283
R. Linda:
Once the newness of the talking dog and new action 'figers' wore off, the Airport was in to ask me "What we doin' now?" Oh God. Not a moment of peace, we had to be doing something.
"Well, here's a thought, we could go out and spread the cow manure around the bushes."
"Ewww," the Airport said holding his tiny nose.
"Ah come on, it'll be fun. You can play in poop as much as you like and your Mam isn't here to get on you over it. We can be smelly guys having smelly guy fun."
"OK," was the enthusiastic response.
I put the baby down for a nap, all those blinking lights and sounds just wore him out. I got the Airport in old clothes and me in mine, and out we marched to the shed for garden tools.
He was pretty good helping me empty the manure into the wheelbarrow, but there were lots of 'ewwws' and remarks that his mother would have been horrified to hear, like how I had messed up and said 'cow shite' out loud and how he was throwing those words around just because he liked the way they sounded. I got a shovel and a rake and off we went to spread 'cow shite'.
I started shoveling in around the bushes and he had the rake. At first the idea of raking it was pretty gross in his mind. He'd rake, stop, look at me, make a face, rake, stop, look at me, make a face and it continued on that way until I couldn't hide me laughter. It was just too funny that face he was making, all scrunched up and well, the smell was pretty cow-ish. I'd 'moo' at him and he'd laugh and if anyone saw us they would have thought we were a couple of looney tunes. After about the fifth bush he decided to quit the rake and handle the stuff. He was right in there with me garden gloves that were much too big for him, but he was having a great time throwing the stuff around. It was in his hair, in his shoes and he was basically covered in cow dung.
I saw ants busy around the stepping stones and I told him to hold off on the cow manure, I'd be right back. I got a mason jar, filled it with water and handed it to him.
"Whaz this fer?" He squinted up at me.
"I'll finish the cow poop you go catch the ants. Just stick em' in the jar and watch em' swim."
"Really?" His eyes lit up and off he went. I know cruel I be, but it was better than me being pelted with cow dung which was starting to happen as he found it funny to toss it at me head. As I finished up I heard loud stamping and found he had resorted to stamping the ants out. He was mad for it, his sandal clad feet stomping hard and each time he'd yell, "Gotcha ant!"
I told him I was going round back to prune a bush, he could bring his jar and see if there were any ants in the back. This suggestion was met enthusiastically as well, he ran ahead of me and then called to me as I rounded the side of the house that there weren't any ants but lots of moths. They weren't moths they were lady birds, to you lady bugs. Ok, I told him collect those instead. And off he set and this was an easy task because lady birds are slow and stupid. They let you pick them up, they don't try to fly away -- so easy pickings.
I was horrified to see he was pulling their wings off and then drowning them in the water with the water-logged ants.
"NO, NO, NO!" I said once me brain registered what he was doing. "You don't do that." I took the jar away and emptied it of it's occupants and he stood there looking aghast at me like I had lost me mind. Then he started stomping them out. I picked him up and physically took him to another part of the yard and set him down.
"Da was remiss to give you that jar and tell you to put ants in it. And I was wrong for letting you stomp the ants. And you were wrong for pulling the wings off the little red beetles. They actually serve a function so you can't just up and kill them."
"Why not? Mommy says the beetles are pests cuz dey git in da house an she's always vacumnin dem up."
Oh good, his own mother vacuums the bugs. What was I to say to that?
"She said dey come in where da spaces iz all da drafts are."
He was looking up at me importantly, like what he just told me was something of great knowledge.
"Ok, look, let's forget about bugs and cow poo. I'll finish up here and we'll go get brother and head out for McDonalds."
"GOODYYY!" He shouted jumping up and down.
Well, I finished the pruning, he helped me put the tools away and we went to the house to find baby standing up in his crib chewing on the railing. I gave him a quick nappy change, washed the Airport and me hands, gathered up a jar of baby food and a bottle of formula and off we set.
Being typical guys we walked into McDonalds and queued up and noticed people sniffing the air. Oh yeah, it was us they were smelling. The Airport was oblivious, but I was trying not to chuckle. I had got so used to the smell of cow manure I completely forgot what I might be smelling like. I had been wearing some that the Airport threw in me hair and I knew the Airport was covered in the stuff. Yup. Even the baby seemed to have noticed because he'd kick to get down he did not want me to hold him.
We ordered our food and of course being typical guys we were eating in. To hell with the smell we were giving off, we couldn't smell it, so we didn't care if anyone else could. A McDonalds employee had just washed part of the floor in the dining area, and was taking up the signs that said WET FLOOR in another section that had dried. He looked up as we approached and told me that that section was now open.
"Ah the manure section," I said in passing and of course the Airport found that very funny and loudly repeated it as we walked to a table. The poor lad holding the signs and mop looked like he was about to pass out from the smell of us. I did notice no one sat near us, and an old man who was dining with his old wife, both of whom had to be hard of hearing because he seemed to not have heard the Airport's announcement that we were headed for the manure section, shouted at his wife, "What in tarnation is that smell? Smells like cows don it?"
Yes, he was smelling the ripeness of us I am proud as a guy to say. I sat there and chuckled me way through me burger and fries and the Airport munched along with me. The baby did not want his food, I guess the smell was just too much, and so he closed off his airways by sipping on his bottle.
Yessiree and Bob's your uncle we had a fun time because we then went out to the playground and cleared the place out. Yes we did, LMAO.
So in a nutshell, I made it through Tonya's mini-holiday and learned that cow poop can be a way to peace and serenity because no one and I mean no one, wants to be near you or engage you in conversation. So in a way I did have some peace and quiet from the world in general and had a lot of poopy laughs with me eldest.
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Once the newness of the talking dog and new action 'figers' wore off, the Airport was in to ask me "What we doin' now?" Oh God. Not a moment of peace, we had to be doing something.
"Well, here's a thought, we could go out and spread the cow manure around the bushes."
"Ewww," the Airport said holding his tiny nose.
"Ah come on, it'll be fun. You can play in poop as much as you like and your Mam isn't here to get on you over it. We can be smelly guys having smelly guy fun."
"OK," was the enthusiastic response.
I put the baby down for a nap, all those blinking lights and sounds just wore him out. I got the Airport in old clothes and me in mine, and out we marched to the shed for garden tools.
He was pretty good helping me empty the manure into the wheelbarrow, but there were lots of 'ewwws' and remarks that his mother would have been horrified to hear, like how I had messed up and said 'cow shite' out loud and how he was throwing those words around just because he liked the way they sounded. I got a shovel and a rake and off we went to spread 'cow shite'.
I started shoveling in around the bushes and he had the rake. At first the idea of raking it was pretty gross in his mind. He'd rake, stop, look at me, make a face, rake, stop, look at me, make a face and it continued on that way until I couldn't hide me laughter. It was just too funny that face he was making, all scrunched up and well, the smell was pretty cow-ish. I'd 'moo' at him and he'd laugh and if anyone saw us they would have thought we were a couple of looney tunes. After about the fifth bush he decided to quit the rake and handle the stuff. He was right in there with me garden gloves that were much too big for him, but he was having a great time throwing the stuff around. It was in his hair, in his shoes and he was basically covered in cow dung.
I saw ants busy around the stepping stones and I told him to hold off on the cow manure, I'd be right back. I got a mason jar, filled it with water and handed it to him.
"Whaz this fer?" He squinted up at me.
"I'll finish the cow poop you go catch the ants. Just stick em' in the jar and watch em' swim."
"Really?" His eyes lit up and off he went. I know cruel I be, but it was better than me being pelted with cow dung which was starting to happen as he found it funny to toss it at me head. As I finished up I heard loud stamping and found he had resorted to stamping the ants out. He was mad for it, his sandal clad feet stomping hard and each time he'd yell, "Gotcha ant!"
I told him I was going round back to prune a bush, he could bring his jar and see if there were any ants in the back. This suggestion was met enthusiastically as well, he ran ahead of me and then called to me as I rounded the side of the house that there weren't any ants but lots of moths. They weren't moths they were lady birds, to you lady bugs. Ok, I told him collect those instead. And off he set and this was an easy task because lady birds are slow and stupid. They let you pick them up, they don't try to fly away -- so easy pickings.
I was horrified to see he was pulling their wings off and then drowning them in the water with the water-logged ants.
"NO, NO, NO!" I said once me brain registered what he was doing. "You don't do that." I took the jar away and emptied it of it's occupants and he stood there looking aghast at me like I had lost me mind. Then he started stomping them out. I picked him up and physically took him to another part of the yard and set him down.
"Da was remiss to give you that jar and tell you to put ants in it. And I was wrong for letting you stomp the ants. And you were wrong for pulling the wings off the little red beetles. They actually serve a function so you can't just up and kill them."
"Why not? Mommy says the beetles are pests cuz dey git in da house an she's always vacumnin dem up."
Oh good, his own mother vacuums the bugs. What was I to say to that?
"She said dey come in where da spaces iz all da drafts are."
He was looking up at me importantly, like what he just told me was something of great knowledge.
"Ok, look, let's forget about bugs and cow poo. I'll finish up here and we'll go get brother and head out for McDonalds."
"GOODYYY!" He shouted jumping up and down.
Well, I finished the pruning, he helped me put the tools away and we went to the house to find baby standing up in his crib chewing on the railing. I gave him a quick nappy change, washed the Airport and me hands, gathered up a jar of baby food and a bottle of formula and off we set.
Being typical guys we walked into McDonalds and queued up and noticed people sniffing the air. Oh yeah, it was us they were smelling. The Airport was oblivious, but I was trying not to chuckle. I had got so used to the smell of cow manure I completely forgot what I might be smelling like. I had been wearing some that the Airport threw in me hair and I knew the Airport was covered in the stuff. Yup. Even the baby seemed to have noticed because he'd kick to get down he did not want me to hold him.
We ordered our food and of course being typical guys we were eating in. To hell with the smell we were giving off, we couldn't smell it, so we didn't care if anyone else could. A McDonalds employee had just washed part of the floor in the dining area, and was taking up the signs that said WET FLOOR in another section that had dried. He looked up as we approached and told me that that section was now open.
"Ah the manure section," I said in passing and of course the Airport found that very funny and loudly repeated it as we walked to a table. The poor lad holding the signs and mop looked like he was about to pass out from the smell of us. I did notice no one sat near us, and an old man who was dining with his old wife, both of whom had to be hard of hearing because he seemed to not have heard the Airport's announcement that we were headed for the manure section, shouted at his wife, "What in tarnation is that smell? Smells like cows don it?"
Yes, he was smelling the ripeness of us I am proud as a guy to say. I sat there and chuckled me way through me burger and fries and the Airport munched along with me. The baby did not want his food, I guess the smell was just too much, and so he closed off his airways by sipping on his bottle.
Yessiree and Bob's your uncle we had a fun time because we then went out to the playground and cleared the place out. Yes we did, LMAO.
So in a nutshell, I made it through Tonya's mini-holiday and learned that cow poop can be a way to peace and serenity because no one and I mean no one, wants to be near you or engage you in conversation. So in a way I did have some peace and quiet from the world in general and had a lot of poopy laughs with me eldest.
Copyright © 2010 All rights reserved
