Nut has a favorite book called “Goodnight Beach”. We read it almost every evening before bed, to the point where I know the entire thing by heart. And so does my toddler. Every night without fail, she points out the mouse that’s trying to steal a hot dog from around the campfire, a balloon that is flying away, the color of the sailboats. I tell her how smart she is, ask her to count the animals she sees. I love reading it to her…until we get to page four that is. Every time we turn to this page:
Nut says without missing a beat, “Ew. Dat boy pooped. Da-custing,” while pointing to the giant brown ROCK that is poorly placed behind his arse. I can’t say I blame her though, it really does look like a floater. You would think somebody, the author, maybe the editor, the publisher, a test group, ANYBODY would have looked at this and thought, “hmmmm…maybe that isn’t the best placement of that boulder. Let’s nix it.” But no. So last night when Nut told me, “Dat poop’s ghoss”, I just agreed and laughed right along with her. If ya can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, I guess.