Our dog, Ruby crapped on R.'s purple, fuzzy rug tonight. Mr. Schmitty was beyond pissed. It's a new rug and it was ruined. You just can't get poop off of that kind of rug.
I was at the dining room table with the kids, trying to help W. study for two tests. Two tests that he failed to remember he was having until today. Two tests that, of course, are to be taken tomorrow.
I was getting slap happy as I was quizzing him and trying to keep the other two occupied. I wanted to keep them away from their father, whose head was spinning as he walked around cursing under his breath. "Damn dog...frickin, frackin, mumble, grumble!"
We had just finished dinner and the steak sauce was still on the table. W. pulled off a dried up, rubbery piece from the neck of the bottle. It was almost black in color and very squishy. I winked at W.
"Ewwwwww!" I said to T. and R. as I picked up the booger-sized drop of steak sauce. "Daddy must have dropped a piece of Ruby poo on the table!!"
"YUCK mommy, don't pick it up!!" yells T.
"Well, I want to make sure that's what it is," I replied as I peered at it more closely.
I held it up to my nose and sniffed. W. almost fell off the chair as he tried to keep himself from laughing.
"It smells like poo."
"Mommy, give it to me, I'll throw it out!" yelled R.
"Wait, I still want to make sure," I continued.
I stuck my tongue out and touched it to the ball of sauce on the end of my finger.
"YUP, that's poo, alright!" I smiled up at T.
I thought he would pass out. He had the most disgusted look on his face. I've ever seen one like that on a kid before. I think he may have thrown up in his mouth a bit.
Meanwhile, W. was hyperventilating next to me. I almost had to give him a paper bag.
"T., seriously, it's steak sauce. Do you think I'd actually taste dog poo or even touch it?"
"You might mom, you are weird, you know."
Touché, by dear boy, touché!