I raised three boys. We joke often that we can't make it through a meal without discussing bodily functions. Sadly, I confess, this has not changed in the intervening years between grade school and their thirty-somethings. I theorize that dining discussions tend to be different with you have both sons and daughters, but I have no way for knowing for sure. Anyway, it's all fair game at our table. Bear this in mind, and sorry in advance, if you are invited to dine with us...We all gathered for a birthday celebration the other night, and there was indeed some lively conversation which had not made its way to bodily functions - a feat unto itself. This would be a good time to mention that four members of the gathered see no need for the privacy of a bathroom when nature calls. Additionally, we have two small dogs, one of whom likes to be in the middle of everything.
As cake time approached, I passed off a baby grandgirlie and grabbed a soon to be two birthday boy. It was the smell first, and then the gooey-but-not-frosting on my arm that caught my attention... (The cake had not yet been touched - thankfully!) By process of elimination (girlie smiling and pleasant smelling, upcoming birthday boy smiling only), we found our culprit - or so we thought.
Emma, from the other side of the room, walked in and said,"wow, something smells." I mentioned small dog, right? Did I mention waist high to a toddler? Apparently puppy of the curious nature had done no better than I at avoiding the discards of a certain almost two year old, which were now securely located behind his ear, not that he seemed to mind in the least. Cake further on hold, toddler in Daddy's capable hands, I grabbed a puppy in my hands along with soap and water. It was almost a Harris record - an entire meal without an ounce of poop talk. Way to go, Elijah! Bring us back to our roots! You are a Harris man-child after all! Looks like the tradition will continue...
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