Diaper Diving

I got the biggest kick out of your comments on the post about the missing shoes, especially the variance within them. There are clearly two groups of people in the world: those who fear poop and those who are so far beyond the fear, they are numb to it.

I belong to the second group of people.

When faced with errant Polly shoes in a diaper of doo, I did what I never thought I'd do.

(Do. Doo. Doo-doo. Sorry. That's a lot of doo. I mean, do. I mean ... oh, never mind.)

I shut down my brain -- so I wouldn't have to acknowledge what was about to happen -- and turned off my texture receptors. Then I grabbed some extra diaper wipes, held my nose and grabbed those shoes out of the Pit of Poo-Poo.

I had to wait a few minutes, to quell the gags coming from the tips of my toes. Then I took the wipes to a sink and used LIBERAL amounts of soap and water -- like, Markos Moulitsas liberal -- to cleanse the shoes. I do believe they are the thickness of one layer of molecules now.

To answer your question, yes, Natalie knew where the missing shoes might reappear, and with her usual aplomb, merely shrugged at the information. Her only comment was that she really likes those purple cowboy boots.

But you better believe the Polly Pockets are nowhere NEAR the edge of Polly-land anymore. For now, we are keeping shoes on the feet and the diaper diving to a minimum.

Would this be a good time to tell you Teyla had corn for dinner?

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If you're looking for more of Teyla's antics, be sure to read my 5 Minutes of Parenting post today. It involves Teyla dumping game pieces down the air vent in the kitchen, even as I'm trying desperately not to lose it. Lucky for her, she's both the saboteur and the savior in this story. Lucky for me, too.

Also? I didn't make the connection until now, but the title of the post is Do Over. Apparently, I have "do" on the brain. I can't imagine why.