November 29, 2011

The Magic of Dragon Poop

“Wow. Furnatche. How did you make something so pretty?” Dylan reached out for the pile that raidiated it's own sparkling light.

“No, sweetie. Don't touch that.” Aunt Purdy came up behind Dylan quickly reaching for his arm. The tip of the boy's finger made contact with the pile just before the arm was pulled out of reach.

“IT'S POOP!” Dylan screamed. The three year old held it to his nose. “SMELLY POOP!” Then thrusting his hand at Aunt Purdy, “Make it go away.” Dylan ordered emphatically.

Aunt Purdy patiently cleaned off the offending fingertip as she discussed the importance of listening to the child. “That's why I said don't touch it. If you had listened to Auntie you wouldn't have poop on your hand.”

Aunt Purdy looked down at the training pad that now had a stinking dark pile where the sparkling lights used to be. She dumped the dirty baby wipes on it, rolled the pad up like a diaper and put it in the trash. She put a clean pad down where the first one had been.

After Aunt Purdy and Dylan had scrubbed up in the bathroom they sat down on the couch to talk about Furnatche's poop.

“Dylan, that pile of sparkling stuff was Furnatche's poop. Auntie learned about it a few days ago herself. She accidently stepped on it in the basement. Thank goodness I always wear shoes in the basement. If you see anything sparkling except Furnatche don't touch it. It is either pee or poop. If we don't touch it for five seconds it disappears. No smell, no mess. If we touch it...”

“YUCK!” Dylan finished the sentence for her.

“That's right Dylan. YUCK.”