Poo Marbles and Mona Lisa

One of the worst things about having my vasectomy, is the knowledge that I will no longer be able to spawn any more kids.

On the other hand...

One of the best things about having my vasectomy, is the knowledge that I will no longer be able to spawn any more kids.

I love my kids. I do. But enough is enough with the two of them. In fact, if you're interested, they're free to a good home.

Had my children been born at, say, the age of 4, then I'd gladly go forth in trying to create more. However, since they actually come out looking like tiny little versions of Gollum from Lord of the Rings, I'll pass.

Thanks to my adventures in fatherhood, I've actually considered writing a book entitled:

Things I never thought I'd say, until I became a parent.

Here are a few that I can remember saying to my kids:

1) Don't eat your foot.
2) The dog is not a toy!
3) Get off of your sister! (although, I believe this is common conversation in Southern states)
4) Hooray! You made a poo!

It's the last one that gets me. Under no circumstances, growing up as a teenager, would I ever consider being more excited to see someone's poo other than my own (my own poo still holds a sentimental place in my heart...um...actually...my colon).


Baby poo is disgusting. Right out of the chute, baby poo resembles tar and smells like - if I may be so bold - Armageddon. Once again, the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse - Stinky - rears his ugly head.

As they grow older, though, you enter the realm of solid poo. There is a significant difference between my child's "solid poo" and my own "solid poo."

Whereas, I consider it a challenge every morning to create the longest continual strand of poop possible (i.e., no "breakage"), my kids tend to poo in marbles. I'm not sure if this is because ALL kids poo little marbles...or if it's because I only feed my kids acorns.

This presents a problem during the diaper stage. If you have kids, or have been around a kid who's sh*t him/herself, your first sign that something has gone awry is the stench.

*sniff...sniff sniff*

"Oh..mother of GOD...did you poo!?!?" you ask your child.

At which point, you either (a) pick up the child, stuffing their ass into your face or (b) do the stretch-open-the-diaper-leg-hole routine...to take a peek.

If my kids crapped snakes, the open-diaper-leg wouldn't be a problem.

However, they don't....and this means that the open-diaper-leg routine results in tiny little poo marbles pouring out of the diaper leg like a giant poo dam has burst and - subsequently - rolling all over the house.

It's almost like they were waiting to be freed and this is their chance of escape. I spend the next half hour on poo-patrol, and deciding if that's poo on the floor, or my dog's kibble.

When my daughter started potty training, things started to get ugly.

We tried everything, including a potty that made music after the child went in it (I wish I had one of these...how cool would it be to hear a great "TA DA!" after every drop). We also had put a potty in her room, so she wouldn't have to walk very far if she needed to go.

And this is where we found out that she has an artistic side.

What you're looking at here, is not art.

It's poo.

My daughter's poo.

After pooping her little marbles out, my daughter looked down..proud of herself..and decided that it would be a good idea to make her crap into a smiley face. This means that she actually reached down into her potty, grabbing each little poo marble, and deftly crafting this little gem you see here.

So proud. So proud.

That reminds me of another entry for my book:

"Don't play with your poop."