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Self Proclaimed Poop Machine

I know it was probably foolish of me but I was sure I would no longer be writing about poop. All the kids are potty trained, we have no pets. Of course there is still the little detail that we still wipe some asses. Emily is the only child at this point, that we trust to wipe her own ass without using too much toilet paper, having shit on her hands and shit all over the toilet. So the conversation last night began like this:

Ethan: "I'm DOOOOOONE" (This is the call for us to get up off our asses and go wipe his butt)

Clint: "I'm Coming"

Ethan: (upon Clint's arrival to the poop depot) "Wait (grunt,grunt) I need to make one more poop"

Clint comes out to the living room to watch TV while he waits for the boy to finish his "business"

Ethan: "I'm DOOOOOONE"

Clint heads into the bathroom

Ethan: "I didn't make just one, I made two more poops."

Clint: "Okay" (I mean what exactly are you supposed to say to that)

Ethan: "I am a poop machine"

Clint: (laughing) Yes, yes you are.

Wipes his butt and follows him to be sure he gets back in bed.

Ethan: (turns around and tells Clint)"I really am a poop machine"

This is one of those conversations that makes me glad I am a parent.

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