Warning: this story contains direct references to poo.
E1 did a big poo in her potty yesterday. As I bent down to wipe her bum, I could see that it was composed of some small pellet-like poos at the bottom, followed by a huge big cow-patty of a poo sitting on top. In our world, this is a very good thing and deserving of high praise.
Before I had a chance to say anything, E1 piped up, “Mummy, I had a lot of baby poos!” Yes. “And then a big mummy poo!” Yes. I told her it was a fabulous poo.
“And Mummy…” Yes? “The mummy poo is squishing the baby poos, and the baby poos are crying!”
There was a over-analytical part of me that felt I should evaluate this. Why is my daughter assigning such detailed personification to her bowel movements? And what could possibly be the source of this rather disturbing idea of a mother squishing her children? But it was over-ruled by the part of me that was trying desperately not to laugh out loud, stop my shoulders shaking uncontrollably, and thinking, “Just wait until I tell her daddy about this one…!”