For those who are still here, you were warned.
If you don't now or have never lived with a boy child then you have not experienced the extreme level to which their lives revolve around all things poo and poo-adjacent.
That's right. I said poo. As in the Big #2. Poop. Turd. Crap. Dookie.
Or as my son learned in science class this week: feces.
His new favorite word.
Thanks, Science Teacher.
So, on to the dilemma. Just as we were leaving the house this morning, I discovered that the kid had stopped up the toilet in the guest bathroom (notice not HIS bathroom) with a big ol' pile.
Now, do I:
1. Take the time to plunge it and thereby make us late to school and work?
2. Leave it for when I get home knowing it will be 8 hours grosser at that point?
Which would you choose?
Oh, and don't think it didn't dawn on me that while most people go home to a husband, partner, and loving family, my option is to go home to a toilet full of poo and a date with a plunger.
What a perfect metaphor for my life!
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