It's Saturday night, and I'm relaxing on the couch. I've been cooking all day, so my feet are propped up and I'm reading the paper. Suddenly, my littlest guy runs up to me, eyes alight with glee. "I got chock-it, Mommy! Chock-it poo poos!" I take a moment to digest what he just said. This boy is a woman when it comes to chocolate. He has a deep and abiding love for the stuff.
But, chocolate poo poos? I try to imagine what situation would cause him to equate what usually stays unseen in his diaper, to his great culinary passion. "Where?" I ask hesitantly. There are some questions one would just rather not know the answer to. "Come on, I show you!" he pulls at my hand, practically dragging me down the hall to his room. Sure enough, smeared all over the floor is the "chock-it". Apparently he'd been playing when he was hit with a bout of what my mom calls 'The Trots' and my dad calls 'Rocky Mountain Quick Step'. This was more than any diaper could hold. I hadn't noticed before, but it was all down his legs. I get him swabbed up while my #3 boy enthusiastically cleans up the floor. The littlest guy was just as pleased as he could be. "I TOLD you Mommy, I got Chock-it!"
Final Post
3 years ago
7 comments:
In the picture, it looked like he is eating his newly produced chocolate
Yep, that's what I was thinking too. My oldest boy has now officially entered the world of blog commenting. Welcome!
ROFL. Oh gross. I thought you were saying he ate it. Glad he didn't. Good job today btw.
As I was reading, I was imagining carpet in the bedrooms. I'm thinking if your son was able to clean it, maybe its hard flooring? Oh, please say you have hard flooring. I can't believe you made that so funny!
Yep, it definitely wasn't carpet. Linoleum, over hard wood floors.
I am also just so grateful that he didn't try a sample of the chock-it. Although, with all the chocolate consumption our family has been doing, I'm surprised we haven't started an actual production of the stuff as a natural by-product.
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