Children are a gift

...and they leave you gifts too.

I just found a nice big TURD on our bathroom rug, conveniently located between the toilet and the training potty. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say this was probably the Littlest Streaker, who ran around for a while after her bath this morning. There are other alternatives, but I know that a) it wasn't me, b) that would've KILLED our cat on the way out, and c) I don't think Husband was that tired this morning.

This'd be a milestone, as Mags has never pooed without a diaper before, much less just wherever she happened to be standing. I almost feel like I should bronze it, to make a paperweight out of it or a doorstop for a very small door. Or mark my calendar at the very least: "Mags leaves her mark".

OK, all I did was let it peel off the rug and into the toilet like some unsavory fruit roll up ("Corn? I don't remember eating corn.") Now to clean the rug. And who better to give cleaning advice than - you guessed it! - Dr. Seuss:

He ran into Dad's bedroom
And then the cat said,
"It is good that your dad
Has the right kind of bed."
Then he shook the rug!
CRACK!
Now the bed had the spot!
And all I could say was,
"Now what, Cat?
NOW WHAT?"

Ewww. Maybe not. Maybe more like:

"What's under the sink?"
Said Mom to herself.
"There must be something better
right here on the shelf."

Then she picked out a bottle
and began to spray.
The spot came right out
and Mom said, "Hooray!"

When Mags came home later,
Mom saw her and said:
"So that's what has happened -
The diaper's on your head!

That's the LAST time I let
DAD give you a bath.
If he does this again,
he with suffer my wrath!"

"That's it, the last straw!
I can't take any more!
I'll just have to find
a new man at the store!"

Then Mom checked the date,
It held a red dot.
"Maybe Dad's not so bad,"
said Mom, "Maybe not."