Boy story for the day:
Crazy/Loon run a daycare, did you know that? Today I helped Crazy take the kids to a restaurant for lunch. Boy had a chance to get ice cream, but chose not to.
This immediately makes me think he's going to barf, because what other reason is there to not eat ice cream?
Boy says he's just tired. Then he asks where the bathroom is.
After he walks away, Crazy decides she'll leave with the kids she brought. I help her clean them up. Boy still isn't back. I help her pack them up. Boy still isn't back. I go to the mens' bathroom, stick my head in and ask if he's alright. He replys, in a rather irritated tone of voice, that he's just fine. All her children are packed up and gone, and he's still not back.... when I'm about to go gangbusters right up in there, out he comes just as pretty as you please.
I ask what he's been doing. He says "I was reading. There was graffiti on the wall- somebody wrote 'My dick rules' and"
There you have it. Boy was not puking, being raped or showering in a urinal...no, he was catching up on some light reading.
Another potty story:
So one of their kids had to go to the bathroom, but he came running out saying "There's a large amount of water! There's so much water it just chased me right out of there!" This is a funnier story if you keep in mind he's three. Then, after it's all cleaned up, he looked at me and said "Well, that was a drag."
Potty story the Third (Are you noticing a trend?)
So Crazy decides that what the kids need is homemade playdoh. She procedes to make a perfectly good batch of the gloppy goodness. When faced with the task of choosing a color, she decided that purple was the way to go. She had red and blue, which, when mixed, made chocolate brown. This was alright by me, because I noticed the resemblance the mixture had to poop. There is little that amuses me and my son as much as making realistic playdoh turds. It would amuse you too, admit it.
Ok, I promise to get off my poop jag. The next entry will have no poop in it what-so-ever.