I'm clearly a very sporadic blogger. Here's this year's blog post.
Filled with excitement for our high school's big ribbon cutting event last night, my family and I headed to the Egg in Davidson for dinner first. We figured that, since we were asked to park away from school and walk, we'd just eat, leave our cars and go to the school. Very sad to find that the Egg is no longer open for dinner. Bummer. So we headed for the high school (knowing they were grilling hot dogs there and had ice cream), my 15-year- old was booking it, walking around 200 yards in front of us, his brother ahead of us, too and then the two of us taking up the rear.
We turned down the street when suddenly, my foot felt, well, weird. And wet. And gross. I looked down and saw that there was some sort of poop thing on my toes; and because we were out (in the wild!) and had nothing with us, I picked up a leaf and wiped my toes off. All was well, except my hand was kind of wet feeling, so I wiped my hand on the back of my shirt; realizing as I was doing it that my hand might not be clean.
As we kept walking, I got a bit in front of my husband, when he said, "My G-d, Jennifer (not Jen, which denotes irritation on his part), what did you do to your shirt? And something smells bad, too." So I turned to him and whined, "Well, what am I supposed to do now?" He pointed out that the sports boosters would be selling spirit wear, so I could probably find something there.
We got to school, where a crowd of around 500 was gathering. I ran up to the booster's booth and asked a friend if I could grab a shirt, noting that I had no cash, but was good for it. She said it was fine and I ran inside, where the air was blissfully cooling things off.
I got another friend to help me pick out a shirt and we found one that was cute. There was a stack of mediums and one large and I really would have preferred an XL. I took the shirt and went to the bathroom, where I stripped off the dirty shirt and, without thinking, turned on the sink and started scrubbing out the spot with soap & water. It was then that I realized I hadn't yet tried on the shirt. Oops. I looked at the shirt, scared it wasn't going to fit and did what all respectable women do when they are sure a shirt won't fit: Put my hands inside and stretched like crazy! I put it on and it fit well enough.
I thought all was well and went outside to join my husband, who was talking to another couple. As we were chatting, she pointed out that she liked my sandals. I thanked her as I looked down at my feet to tell her where I got them, when I noticed that my toes were brown and, yes, a bit poopy still. I looked at them and said, "Uh...I think I need to go back to the bathroom now," and bolted back inside, where I basically gave my foot a bath in the sink.
I'm realizing as I've been typing right now that out of 5 or 6 blog posts in the past 3 or 4 years, this is my 2nd post about poop. Says a lot about what I find interesting in my life.
