After yesterday’s mishap with where the bathroom is at our house, we finally did go off to the Central Florida Zoo. Where it was raining and we waited in the car to the point where I was getting ready to put the car in reverse to get out of the parking spot, and over my shoulder I look and see blue sky. Within minutes the rain had stopped, and Melissa and the boys were walking passed the school buses (checking out every single one) to the entrance of the zoo.
I’m thinking of suing the creators of “Peppa Pig” for making that show too darn cute to stop watching. With all the jumping in “muddy puddols,” I’m afraid Pierce thinks that that is what puddles are for. This posed a bit of a messy problem in the zoo parking lot, which is gravel and full of pot holes. Before we had even gotten past the entrance, I had already threatened both boys with leaving a half a dozen times if they didn’t avoid the puddles from there forward. Finally it sunk in—or the sun dried up the temptation.
My boys were crazy enough for Melissa to probably go home and double up on birth control, despite her desire to have a family. They were running in opposite directions, while I was busy taking pictures. She was probably wishing I would keep a shorter leash on my animals.
Then when we left, we had another 45 minutes in the car to run back to the other side of town to pick something up. Somehow, the boys weren’t asleep after all their antics at the zoo. In fact, they were wild in the back seat…WILD! I’d get firm. They’d get quiet…for a minute, and it would ramp up again to a hundred decibels of squealing, laughing, and other bizarre noises. By the time we got home, I think I saw Melissa run crying from my driveway to her house, where she double bolted her door and changed her phone number.
By evening, I was teetering on insanity. Other than Pierce’s many successful attempts at using his potty chair, I was ready to run from my home crying and screaming. At one point the boys were running and hurdling over the potty chair that we put in front of the TV. It was empty, but it became an object to kick and fall over, so daddy put it on the sofa for about 5 minutes until I put it back where Pierce could use it since he was doing all of this naked from the waist down. I kept waiting for him to do “#2” so I could put his pull up back on and feel like we really made some progress. Pierce came down the hall to tell me he had poopy-ed and I thought he meant that he needed to. Then he started pointing back down the hall. It was like the Clorox commercial where the kid poops in the tub, and he’s so proud of himself. In the hall just outside his bedroom door is the biggest “#2” I have seen. How can a 28lb child poop like a grown man? Aside from being nowhere near a toilet and lying on the tile—it was frightfully impressive. Pierce was all excited to have me pick it up and put it in the toilet. If I’m not mistaken, there was an extra step here that could have been omitted.
I learned later that it was a full moon yesterday which would explain the lunacy. Overall, it was a “crappy” day!