So I was debating posting this story on our journal, cause its pretty gross. Pretty hilarious, but pretty gross. So you've been warned: if you have a sensitive disposition, stop now.
This evening I got off work early, and since I had time I thought I'd make ratatouille, a fairly labor intensive dish for those of you who don't know what it is. I frenetically chopped and sauteed vegetables, leaving Luca mostly to his own devices in the living room. All of a sudden he comes up to the kitchen gate and says "Mama, kitty poopy."
Now of late our cat has been having problems with hairballs. I figured one of two things could have happened: Either the cat threw up on the rug again, or he simply went to his litter box, which Luca enjoys pointing out for whatever reason. I quickly exited the kitchen hoping for the former, and was greeted by a smallish light brown mass on the rug. Great, I thought, another hairball, but at least it looks fairly contained. I grabbed a paper towel and picked it up. As I did so, I noticed the consistency was a bit, well, let's just say off.
What I did next is completely unfathomable to someone who is not a) a parent, b) a pet owner, and/or c) a childcare worker. I sniffed it. I don't mean I stuck my nose in it, just took a little whiff. And after years of owning a cat, three years in childcare, and nearly two years of parenting, I could tell immediately that it was not a hairball. So I turned to the next logical culprit. This was the resulting dialogue:
Me: "Luca, are you poopy?"
Luca: "Nooooo..."
Me: "Luca, you are poopy."
Luca: "Kitty poopy! Kitty poopy!"
Me: "Luca, you have poop in your pants. Go to the bathroom!"
Luca finally waddled off to the bathroom with a full load only partially contained in his pull-up, still asserting it was "kitty-poopy" and not his. Let this be a cautionary tale to anyone who thinks toddlers don't lie.
This evening I got off work early, and since I had time I thought I'd make ratatouille, a fairly labor intensive dish for those of you who don't know what it is. I frenetically chopped and sauteed vegetables, leaving Luca mostly to his own devices in the living room. All of a sudden he comes up to the kitchen gate and says "Mama, kitty poopy."
Now of late our cat has been having problems with hairballs. I figured one of two things could have happened: Either the cat threw up on the rug again, or he simply went to his litter box, which Luca enjoys pointing out for whatever reason. I quickly exited the kitchen hoping for the former, and was greeted by a smallish light brown mass on the rug. Great, I thought, another hairball, but at least it looks fairly contained. I grabbed a paper towel and picked it up. As I did so, I noticed the consistency was a bit, well, let's just say off.
What I did next is completely unfathomable to someone who is not a) a parent, b) a pet owner, and/or c) a childcare worker. I sniffed it. I don't mean I stuck my nose in it, just took a little whiff. And after years of owning a cat, three years in childcare, and nearly two years of parenting, I could tell immediately that it was not a hairball. So I turned to the next logical culprit. This was the resulting dialogue:
Me: "Luca, are you poopy?"
Luca: "Nooooo..."
Me: "Luca, you are poopy."
Luca: "Kitty poopy! Kitty poopy!"
Me: "Luca, you have poop in your pants. Go to the bathroom!"
Luca finally waddled off to the bathroom with a full load only partially contained in his pull-up, still asserting it was "kitty-poopy" and not his. Let this be a cautionary tale to anyone who thinks toddlers don't lie.
Comment(s):
Here's the conversation that took place on Facebook:
Carla: I LOVE this story!
Amelia: ha ha - AWESOME! This one made me laugh out loud. :)
Sara: priceless.
Steph: I have a perfect mental image of this dialogue between you and Luca. He can be very convincing in his presentation, but nobody can fool the "Mama sniff test." Thank you for the laugh! Remember: "The days are long, but the years are short..."
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