Vaguely scatalogical

Actually, downright shitty. Literally.

Evan discovered the joy of playing with his own excrement yesterday, and engaged in this new hobby, twice. I am still recovering from the disgust and shock.

I'll spare you photos, but suffice it to say that there were many loads of laundry and many baths. My 18 year old (the one with the room) expressed concern that this is a sign of mental illness. Evan is two. If I had to place a bet, Evan is not the family member most likely to end up in a padded room.

I leave you with a photo, not of a toddler and crib bedding smeared with feces, but of something lovely blooming by my front porch.


Not too shitty