Tuesday, March 29, 2011

My Kind

The other night I was in the bathroom, removing my make-up, and minding my own business when Megan walked in ...

Megan: Uh, Mom?

Me: Yeah?

Megan: Did you just go poop?

Me: No.

Megan: 'Cause it smells like your kind of poop.

Me: My kind of poop?

Megan: Yeah.

There was no need to take this conversation any further, because I knew what she meant ... My kind smells like roses.


  1. Ha! She's so funny. I like to talk about poop too. Isaac... not as much. It's too bad for him that I'm the only one to talk to in our house.

    p.s. You got a blog roll! And you put me on it! Thanks. :)

  2. Just like we don't sweat; we glow. I hear ya.

  3. Lacie! How could Isaac not like engaging in some good 'ole poop discussions? Well, we both know he's missin' out, big time.

    p.s. Of COURSE you're on my blog roll!! The most current posts are at the top, so don't be takin' any more of those long vacations or you'll slide down fast! ;)

    A-M ~ As always, you totally get it. :)