Ugh.

Carolyn pooped on the floor today.

I took her out of the bath and let her run around naked until I dried myself off.

Because if I were a baby, I'd want to be naked as much as possible.

Who am I kidding.

I'm thirty-three and I still feel that way.

It was less than five minutes.

Then, all the sudden, there it was.

Poop.

On the bloody floor.

And naturally, she couldn't just leave it alone.

I ran into the room, still clad in only a towel yelling, "NO! NO! NO!  DON'T TOUCH IT!"

But before I could get there, she'd picked it up and was heading toward my bedroom.

NOOOOOOOO!

I basically had to wrest it from her hand while she giggled madly.

Ugh.

Sometimes being a mom is so gross.

In other news, I took Carolyn to the park on Friday morning.

There were like a billion kids there to play with.

But did she want to play with them?

Nope.

Instead she wanted to sit by the little Mexican man on the edge of the grass who was reading the newspaper.

She just sat there and stared at him

And I let her.

Because it was hysterical watching the guy squirm.