We're still working on the whole potty training thing and EZ E was wearing underwear yesterday. He was having a grand old time playing in his cardboard house when all of the sudden he emerges from the house and screams, "Hey! There's poop in that house!" (as though he had nothing to do with it). Acckkkkkk! To make a gross story short, we had to throw away the house. Instead of immediately breaking down the house and putting it in a garbage bag, PRH put it on our front porch to take care of after EZ E is all cleaned up and after I've recovered from a major attack of poop-phobia. What happened next? Of course (of course!!!), a damn salesman rings the bell. PRH answers and the conversation goes as follows:
Salesman: Wow! That's a cool play house!
PRH: Yeah. Too bad it's full of crap.
Salesman: What, did some animal get into it or something?
PRH: Yeah. My son.
Salesman: Uh. Okay...
The salesman leaves. I am mortified.
Me: Did you just tell that complete stranger that the playhouse sitting on our front porch is FULL OF CRAP?!
PRH: Yeah, why?
PRH: It is.
PRH: Well, it is.