Dog Poop: A Tragicomedy in Two Acts
Not for the weak of stomach. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Act I
Scene: Twinkie the van.
elswhere and Mermaid Girl have just driven from the Groovy Shul to the Fish & Chips place for lunch.
elswhere: I smell dog poop. Do you smell dog poop?
MG: *sniff sniff* No.
elswhere: *pulling into Fish & Chips parking lot* Argh, it is dog poop! It's on my shoe! Yuck! Igh!
MG: Eew!
elswhere pulls shoe off and cleans it with the aid of paper towels, Twinkie's running-water sink, and a wooden chopstick that happens to be handy, then stuffs towels and chopstick in the garbage.
MG: *helpfully* There's dog poop on the floor, too.
elswhere: Oh, no! Yick! Don't move! Stay in your seat! *scrubs van floor with water, dish soap, and paper towels, while MG watches from her booster seat in horrified fascination, occasionally making supportive comments like "I'm glad I didn't step in it!" and "Don't blame me! It's not my fault!"*
elswhere: Okay, it's all gone now. Let's go! Let's wash our hands!
*exeunt*
Act II: Chez Booland, a couple of hours later. MG has been playing with her growing hoard of Pet Shops in her room. In the adjoining bedroom, elswhere is sitting on the edge of the Big Bed, surfing blogs.
MG, on her way to the living room: *pointing at elswhere's right knee* Mommy? There's dog poop on your jeans, too.
elswhere: *in deep denial about now-dry but unmistabably brown stuff on knee*: No, that? That's just dirt.
MG: No, I think it's dog poop.
elswhere: Oh my God, you're right! I must have knelt in it while I was cleaning it up before! Yick! Eew! (etc.)
elswhere, uttering further exclamations of disgust all the while, rips off jeans and tosses in laundry hamper, (which incidentally will be run in the next few hours,) making mental note to put in hot-water wash.
elswhere: Thanks for telling me. Blech.
MG: *in an uncanny imitation of the patronizing amazed tone we use with her when she does something vaguely impressive* I can't believe you got it all the way up to your knees!
elswhere: Um, well, I guess I just have a talent.
MG: Yeah. For dog poop!
Act I
Scene: Twinkie the van.
elswhere and Mermaid Girl have just driven from the Groovy Shul to the Fish & Chips place for lunch.
elswhere: I smell dog poop. Do you smell dog poop?
MG: *sniff sniff* No.
elswhere: *pulling into Fish & Chips parking lot* Argh, it is dog poop! It's on my shoe! Yuck! Igh!
MG: Eew!
elswhere pulls shoe off and cleans it with the aid of paper towels, Twinkie's running-water sink, and a wooden chopstick that happens to be handy, then stuffs towels and chopstick in the garbage.
MG: *helpfully* There's dog poop on the floor, too.
elswhere: Oh, no! Yick! Don't move! Stay in your seat! *scrubs van floor with water, dish soap, and paper towels, while MG watches from her booster seat in horrified fascination, occasionally making supportive comments like "I'm glad I didn't step in it!" and "Don't blame me! It's not my fault!"*
elswhere: Okay, it's all gone now. Let's go! Let's wash our hands!
*exeunt*
Act II: Chez Booland, a couple of hours later. MG has been playing with her growing hoard of Pet Shops in her room. In the adjoining bedroom, elswhere is sitting on the edge of the Big Bed, surfing blogs.
MG, on her way to the living room: *pointing at elswhere's right knee* Mommy? There's dog poop on your jeans, too.
elswhere: *in deep denial about now-dry but unmistabably brown stuff on knee*: No, that? That's just dirt.
MG: No, I think it's dog poop.
elswhere: Oh my God, you're right! I must have knelt in it while I was cleaning it up before! Yick! Eew! (etc.)
elswhere, uttering further exclamations of disgust all the while, rips off jeans and tosses in laundry hamper, (which incidentally will be run in the next few hours,) making mental note to put in hot-water wash.
elswhere: Thanks for telling me. Blech.
MG: *in an uncanny imitation of the patronizing amazed tone we use with her when she does something vaguely impressive* I can't believe you got it all the way up to your knees!
elswhere: Um, well, I guess I just have a talent.
MG: Yeah. For dog poop!
posted by elswhere | 3:01 PM
7 Comments:
That was terrible and funny. Terribly funny!
Oh, the fearful poopies!
But still, it is good to have a talent, no?
Hee hee
I always did think you were a woman of many and varied talents!
We love poop. Don't diss poop. It will haunt u 4 life. Plus it is good 4 ur health
Epilogue, Two Days Later:
Scene I: Busy street corner near our house. Renaissance Woman is busy hammering into the dirt two political signs, urging drivers whizzing by and bored bystanders at the bus stop to PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE drag yourselves to the polls on Feb 6th just to keep our public schools from losing 25% of their operating budget and also their re-roofing funds. (Truly. Pathetic.)
Mermaid Girl is busy jumping in pile of old old leaves next to signs.
Scene II: Our house, a half hour later.
MG's voice from offstage, in the bathroom: Mama, I think I have dog poop on my shoe...
Renaissance Woman enters bathroom to discover it is indeed sticky canine excrement, mixed with decomposing leaves -- not only on the the shoe but on the bathroom floor, the living room carpet, the front porch and, soon after she begins trying to clean it up, the broom and the dustpan.
Twenty minutes' hosedown in the backyard was nearly (but not quite) sufficient to dislodge said poop from the labrynthine treads of MG's Really Good Purple Allweather Moc -- which is still airing out on the porch.
Hee! It's a multigenerational talent!
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