It was a great day for walking, you see. So, of course, Spousey had to encourage more walking. I have dreams of being only 10 pounds more than I was when I graduated high school (not really, no dreams of that at all. Just want to get back a few stomach muscles that were punched out by babes in the womb), so I agree to more walking today. We walked to get the kiddos from school. I am a constant poop watcher. I watch for poop everywhere. Just one of the extra cute manifestations of my OCD. Right now, pretty sure, poop is at an all time high 'round our hood.
My Middle Kid: Can we walk through the soccer fields to get home?
Me: No. They will be riddled with poop.
Middle Kid: You always totally deny me of all my ideas.
Me: I know.
A few seconds later, Spousey: Don't step on that (while kind of blocking the turd and pointing to it).
My youngest girlies, being so much like their mother, avoid the turd. Middle Kid proceeds to step directly on turd, as Spousey watches.
I think Middle Kid says: Watch out for what?
Spousey: The poop you just nailed.
The entire walk home was an attempt to get the poop off the boot by walking in snow, stomping, and a little stick work. The boot still needed a little bleach and nail attention (not my finger nail, eeewww. I find that those picture-hanging nails really get in the groves. I know, I know: very cute manifestation of OCD). Now, you could eat off that frickin' boot.
A couple of hours pass of boot cleaning, snack eating, homework doing, food making. I made some quiche today with some leftovers and some improvisation. What does it mean to "scald the cream?" Anyway, DINNER TIME!!!
As the kiddos, spouse, and dog gather in the kitchen, it seems that the quiche will be well received. One quiche is a ham and cheese kind, the other has chicken sausage and cheese.
First Born: what is that green speck on the quiche?
Me: Oh, just something that will probably kill you. (I think it was actually a bit of green pepper, which probably could kill my extremely finicky First Born.)
First Born: Oooohhhh, that sucks, 'cause I really didn't want to eat something that would probably kill me tonight.
Me: Don't worry, things that will probably kill you really don't hurt you.
All dinner guests (my family), less one, ate the quiches. You really didn't expect everyone to eat the same main dish, did you? Oh, also, my doggy couldn't get enough of the quiche, so he was extra beggy at the table. So I have that, which is not nice.
All in all, a pretty good evening. How was yours? I am encouraging comments. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?