Epic shit my kid says.

Giggles had quite the morning humor-wise.  I had a terrible morning parenting-wise (I’m really trying not to fail at this whole being-a-mommy thing, but I really stink at it).

Giggles walked out to the living room this morning asking where his “Punge-Bob” comforter was.  I, being cranky and not having coffee yet, still angry at the damn dog, said, “Charlie pissed on it last night so it’s in the wash.”  “Ohhh.  Charlie went potty on my blankie?” His brow furrows.  “Yes.  You left it on the floor, so Charlie went potty on your blankie.”

Five minutes go by…  Giggles walks back out to the living room, hands on his hips, and spots Charlie.  He makes a beeline for him with his finger pointed, “Charlie! Why you piss on my blankie? Yous a bad boy! You go pee-pee in your potty!” Oh.  Crap.

Lady starts making grunting noises in the bedroom, so I go to check on her.  She’s coo-ing. . . working too hard to keep my attention (I KNEW THEY’D BEEN PLOTTING!) A few minutes go by, I’m completely wrapped up in the deep conversation I’m having with the six-week-old. . . and Giggles comes in the room:

“MOMMY, I POOPIED IN THE PAWTY! Come see, mommy… come see!”
I walk out of my bedroom door. On the floor, a pile of excrement.
“Giggles, that is NOT the potty.”
“Mommy, I poo-pooed in CHARLIE’S potty.”
“Oh, thanks for clarifying.” 

In the picture I took of it (I wasn’t going to post that here – that’s ridiculous and awfully disgusting.  I just sent it to my older brother so that I’d have someone to vouch for my story.  And then I thought it would be funny for my little brother and sister to wake up to a pile of steaming nastiness on their phones, so I sent it to them as well.  It’s Christmas time, you see, and it’s all about giving.) and in the picture you can see his perfectly carved out little butt cheeks.  It’s actually cute when you can’t smell it.