But, the Gut Pile.

Last weekend when we were camping, I came out to our “living room” and saw David and Hadley in the recliner chairs enjoying pumpkin pie with whipped cream at 7 in the morning. Poor Hadley.  Her mouth is hurting even worse now.  Anyways, it was cute and they had the fire going and this is what the puppy brothers looked like:

Yes.  Our camper has a living room.  It is nicer than our house.

We were planning a road trip to go and see Kate, but we ran into a few problems regarding leaving the farm and the dogs. We had already planned on bringing Niko to see her, and we weren’t super excited about the 8 hour trip, plus Niko, plus 5 people, but these are the things you do for family.  Anyways, we were having trouble finding help with Norman and Charlie and David said this actual sentence:

“I think we should just take all three dogs on the trip.”

So, I booked Kate a flight home instead!  Genius!

She got in last night.  David and I were completely asleep, naturally.  I was able to wake up and visit.  The best part of it all was that LD had bathed the dogs so they would be clean and lovely for her visit, and when she arrived, HD went and let her dog out of his kennel right away so she could visit him.  So that was a nice, harmonic time for my children as siblings that I shan’t soon forget.  She and Hadley are off flitting about town visiting all of her old stomping grounds.  And I am at home dealing with:

The Great Dog Cow Poop Pig Gut Pile Aftermath 2021.

I love David.  I really do.  I think he is swell and I have cherished our time together as man and wife.

But, the gut pile.

We need a new plan with the gut pile, reader.  Perhaps you could tell me how you all handle your gut pile quandaries at your home?  I kid.  I jest.

But, the gut pile.

Our dogs do not go to the bathroom in their kennels.  But poor Norman got sick after snacking on the gut pile and made a big poo in his kennel and LD almost puked about 7 times while trying to help clean it up.

It is not a normal smelling poo, Reader.  It is pig gut poo.  And it is nasty-wrong.

And then they go outside and they know how to open the doors and they come in if we forget to deadbolt the doors and then they jump around and get muddy paw prints all over the place.  And I say muddy paw prints but we all know it is cow poop.

So, today.  Today I am cleaning.  And feeling downtrodden about my situation here, if I am being honest.  I am also hopeful the girls will buy some pretty nail polish while they are flitting about town and come make my toesies look pretty.  Because I think cleaning up after dogs who smell like pig guts would be an all around better experience if I had this color on my toes.

Yes.  I took a picture on my computer.  I was lying to myself about getting caught up on some grading and Facebook made me want this nail polish instead.  But I have to spend all the dollars if I order it from those peeps, so I am hoping the girls will find a happy compromise.

And then there’s the boys.

Last night, HD was very kind and offered to start a load of laundry for me.  I was folding it this morning and noticed that there were bleach spots on the clothes.  So I asked HD to show me what he put in the washing machine and he put in bleach instead of detergent.  Because he thought it was detergent.

HD:  Ok, ok, but Mom.  Where do I put the conditioner?

Me:  What?

HD:  I always forget where the conditioner goes.

Me:  Conditioner is for YOUR SHOWER.

HD:  I am confused.

He meant softener.  Bless his heart.  And then this morning the boys went to go and sort cows even though no one told them to, and LD chose to wore shorts and Crocs.  So he came into the house, after kindly taking the Crocs off, but because Crocs have holes in them, he had cow poop mud on his toes, and he also had it all over his legs.  Plus he was bleeding a little.

?

Me:  Nope.  You cannot come in like that.

LD:  But I took my shoes off!

Me:  You have poop on your feet.

So he left for what I foolishly assumed was a shower and then I saw him 10 minutes later walking around like he owned the place with clean toesies but poop/blood still on his legs.  He had the audacity to argue with me in my own living room about the necessity of also washing his legs because,

“Gosh, Mom.  It is not like my legs are touching anything.”

So.  Here’s to hoping that the girls find that nail polish.

In other news, Charlie is two years old today.

Here’s a picture of her the day we got her-

And a recent picture of her “reading” with me.  She jumps up with me if David isn’t home and I give her the “ok.”

You may ask, “Taylor? Should you own light, cream-colored bedding?  Given your lifestyle and how prone your home is to random cow poop and gut pile attacks?”

No.  No, I should not.  Yet, here we are.  And guess what is in my washing machine right now? (Without bleach) (Also without conditioner)

So the dogs are banished outside again for the day.  They need another bath before they can come in.  And then we need to clean the tub.  And then we will have to do it again tomorrow.

Let’s move on.

I have this first grade student who thinks he is Mr. Cool.  Oh, he struts around and cracks jokes at in-opportune times.

He sometimes will start beat-boxing during read alouds.

Poor little beat boxer got sent back to his table for awhile.  Because, consequences.

Anyways, I was reading some story and there was a hunter with a hunting rifle, and Mr. Cool shouts, “Cool!  Do those guys have AK-47s?

And I was like, No.  No, they do not, child.

I was telling the kids about Mr. Maliblahblah and they were like, who is Mr. Maliblahblah, and I was like he is my husband.

Student:  But YOU are Mr. Maliblahblah.

Me:  No.  I am MRS. Maliblahblah.

Student:  You have the same name as him!  That is so weird!

And the whole class erupted into uncontrollable laughter.  I wonder if Mr. Cool was jealous that my husband’s name got more laughs than his story-interrupting-beat-boxing event.

I hope so.

Haircut Lisa gave me a clipping of her plant several months ago.  Wandering Jew.  It is going bananas!  I just keep cutting it and planting another pot and it is so fun.

Doesn’t it look nice?

It almost makes me forget about my pig gut pile problems.

Well.

Almost.