Text of e-mail: “What you can’t see is the epic turd. I spared you that. So the four year old sits on the John and reads Vanity Fair while dropping bombs.”
This is what happens when I leave the house for the day. Everybody gets all up in the body art and then someone takes a massive crap – while, apparently, reading Vanity Fair, which, thank god she’s picking up the important life skills early – and then someone e-mails me the evidence.
And I am left to puzzle over the following questions:
1) Why is my four year old reading an article entitled ‘The Bank Job’ while moving her bowels? Is she trying to understand the market? Is she planning a heist? Did she learn anything? If so, how can I turn this to my advantage?
2) Why are the two children in the bath without water? Was my husband actually planning on bathing them, or was this just some sort of bizarre time-out?
3) Why does my husband think that he is sparing me anything by not sending a picture of the alleged ‘epic turd’? I have witnessed those turds first-hand. I have shared a bath with them. I am hardened. BRING IT.
4) Why did my husband capitalize the word ‘John’?
5) Why did I spend more than 30 seconds scrutinizing this picture when it is clear that the allegedly ‘epic turd’ cannot be seen from any angle?
6) Why am I forcing you all to look at it, turd or not?
Oh hey! I’m a finalist in the Bloggies – Best Canadian blog. Which is really kind of exciting, because I never win anything, except a bowling tournament once, but that was when I was six and the winners were picked at random. You should totally vote for me, because. (It’s kind of weird and complicated at the Bloggies page, because you have to scroll sideways through the categories, but really, it’s worth it. To me. Just don’t mistake me for one of the vegetable or sandwich blogs that’s nominated with me. It’d be understandable, I know. But don’t.)