Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Jeepin' and Poopin'

The weather was beautiful! Finally! After months of a winter that brought us freezing sub-zero temps, ice storms, and wicked snow, spring had finally arrived and the temperature had soared to 70 degrees. I could not wait to go outside with the kids. I raced home from work, eager to let the kids play with all of their playthings that had been gathering dust in the garage all winter.

The girls hopped right on their bikes and rode up and down the driveway. Jack took off in his motorized Jeep and made laps around the house. I sat my ass in a lawn chair with a snack and Pottery Barn catalog. Life was good - until it wasn’t.

Jack had been Jeepin’ it full speed around the house – making lap after lap. The kid loved it. He loved it so much that he just had to get naked, and so it was that at about his 5th or 6th lap around the house, he came around to greet us in the driveway without his clothes.

"Jack!" I yelled. "Where are your clothes?"

"Oh yeah," he answered. "I took them off." 

"Why did you take them off?!?!?!" I replied. 

"Because I pooped," he said.

And with that he took off full speed - ready to make another lap.

"Jack Rumbach!!!" I yelled. "Get back here!"

Yet off he went - Jeepin' it naked, covered in poop, leaving skid marks around the yard, with me running wildly behind him.

As I set off chasing the little pooper, I ran by his "business" and yes, he indeed pooped right there in the front yard for everyone to see.

Awesome. If you happened to drive by that day, I apologize. 

If you live in the neighborhood and were trying to enjoy the beautiful sounds of spring, I also apologize but I hope you enjoyed the show.

I get it. Kind of, I do. He was really excited to be outside - he'd been cooped up for months. He couldn't be bothered to go inside to poop. He was ready to rock and roll and enjoy the sunshine. Bodily functions be damned. 

After finally catching my little streaker and cleaning him up, I then had to go scoop poop out of our yard - like we have a dog, except, we don't have a dog - we just have a Jack, who apparently isn't house broken. 

This kid is going to kill it at preschool in a few months. Hadley was sent to preschool writing her name and knowing her letters. My greatest hope for Jack is that he keeps his pants on. 

Woof Woof.