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Tag Archives: baby
Okay, so there I am with shopping basket in hand just picking up a few essentials… and non-essentials too…
It was when I was going to pick up the non-essentials that the “thing” appeared…
I was walking down the chocolate aisle (oh how that name was so right…), when I saw a strange thing on the floor.
The thing was a poop. I had to double take to make sure my eyes were not lying. My eyes had no reason to lie – we’ve always got on well with each other – we even go out everywhere and do everything together… they had no reason to lie.
The poop had a wheel mark right through the centre of it where someone else’s eyes had totally let the owner down. Not like my eyes.
I called over a store assistant and pointed out the poop. The assistant did a double take – it was the chocolate aisle after all and it could have been an errant Mars bar…. but no… the store assistants eyes obviously had a good relationship with the store assistant and the same conclusion was made. It was a poop that had been run over by a trolley.
I walked away from the poop and left the assistant pondering what to do. I was left pondering how the poop had even got there. I can only come up with one conclusion…. It was human poop.
A guide dog is well trained, and therefore would not poop indoors. If it had to poop it would not poop in the middle of an aisle. Also, it was not dog poop looking – it looked human…. small human. I know small human poop as I have a small human.
My reckoning is that a small human – I’ll wager a child (I’m not about to bet a child on this – I mean I’ll bet it was a child).
Either a child who couldn’t keep it in and it just fell out of the bottom of their trouser leg, or the more amusing Houdini Poop.
The Houdini Poop is one that my small human managed once. Little Alex was only about 18 months old and sitting in his high chair as he ate. It was then I noticed a poop under the chair. Alex had managed to sit in such a way that the poop had managed to escape the nappy, scootch down the trouser leg and land directly under his chair…in perfect condition.
Reasonably happy with my conclusion I walked towards the checkout and past the chocolate aisle again….
I glanced up the chocolate aisle and saw five store assistance stood around the poop… all musing on how it had got there.
I figured they could reach there own conclusion – who am I to take away the excitement of an event that will probably be the talk of the staff room for years to come! (Who’d be that interested in poop! Not me!…. said the poop blog writer…)
As I walked back to my car I wondered if that same poop would have been cheaper in Asda….
When Alex wakes up in the morning he joins us in our bed for a while. Chris left early for work today, so it is just me and the lad today.
This morning he decided he had to bring his Police car (he loves the emergency services) with him…and his drink…and his puppy. The puppy goes without saying, mind you, as that is Alexs favourite.
It may be miserable outside today, but seeing the lads happy face and hearing him chattering and laughing first thing in the morning really makes up for a lot of things!
Imagine a house that is a jumble of boxes….floor to ceiling…awaiting a phone call to say “The contract is clear…you can finally move house!!!”
Imagine a cat. Slightly daft, pretty darn big but with little brain.
So…it’s a couple of days from my birthday (hooray!) and Miew, my little prince of a cat (who takes up a whole double bed), decides to give me a present.
Now Miew looks like a cat, tries to do cat stuff, but is never quite as good at the balancing and chasing and catching as he is at the sleeping.
My present. A baby rat. Miew has caught it, and brought it into me. Then dropped it for me. But unlike a normal cat, this gift rat is alive. Very much so. Not even a bite mark.
It ran under all those stacked crates and bags…bugger.
A good hour later, with several misses, the rat is rounded up. I have my air pistol at the ready, as every time we almost get it within grabbing distance, it runs off. I don’t want a rat in the house and I don’t want to kill it – so it would be my last choice getting it cornered and shooting it, then moving everything out of the way and dispose of it.
Luckily I finally corner it (third attempt and the room is a wreck).
I put down a long cardboard tube with a folded up end, and Chris scares the rat so it runs towards and into the tube. I grab the open end of the tube and fold it over. Ratty is taken outside and released over by the garden shed.
House: A total bomb site.
Me and Chris: Knackered.
Miew: Wants love and attention for bringing me such a lovely gift.
I guess the blog about how I sold my Toyota Supra 3L turbo and bought a sensible baby friendly (boring) car will have to wait….Just wait until junior asks for his/her first car and moans that I only allowed them a sensible one…I had a Supra and now I drive a Citroén Berlingo. Mind you, by then even a simple hatch back basic model will probably put out 240bhp….and run on household waste.