Must be the season of the excrement.

Well, we are heading into poop-stink season, or as the rest of you like to call it, spring. For a person with a heightened sense of smell and three dogs, this is pretty much damp shit season.

Molly and I are flying solo for a few days, and for those of you thinking "you are publishing that you are alone on the internet?" I have three psychotic dogs and am a pretty good shot. Robbing people in the woods is probably a little Darwinish.

After we dropped her dad off at the airport Molly and i went to the kangaroo farm where Molly proceeded to photobomb every single person in the farm's photos. She just can't help herself, she loves animals to the point of being completely blinded by the cuteness. She is a lot like her mom. Honestly what's not to like? If they are not in the mood, a kangaroo with just drop kick you. No subtlety at all,  and I respect that.

It's been a pretty up and down end of winter, we spend most of it with the plague, which was less than cool. It did bring up a lot of funny stuff though. Pun  intended. Molly asked me for a drink of juice one day and then exorcist-puked it right back at me, and that would have been funny enough. But then that was also the week she decided to be captain phonepants and call everyone and talk to them at length, and I got to hear her tell EVERY.SINGLE PERSON who asked how she was doing that she puked, and i quote; "I puked really bad, juice everywhere. I am calling it a juicepuke. It was okay cause it tasted okay. Juicepuke, you ever done it before?" like juice-puking was this hip and happening thing that people really need to catch onto. Seriously? Haven't you juicepuked? All the cool kids are doing it.

This week as we are prepping the yard Molly is renewed with her pursuit of animal ownership. It's not enough that we have 3 dogs and 3 cats and all I do is mop and cry, she needs 2 goats, and 2 sheep, and - now because the fool woman at the kangaroo farm told me they sell them - 2 kangaroos, and 4 horses and 2 alpacas. Seems like a legit shopping list, no?

Sam and I can't yet see eye to eye on the goats just yet. He in his annoyingly logical way does not want something in our yard that will eat anything and whose only purpose is to faint and therefore make me laugh. I, a person who completely lacks in logic but makes up for it in batshit crazy, just keep showing him this as my rebuttal:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AnVv0RkiG4U

I win right? Molly laughs like an 80 year old man when she watches this video. Anyway, today we were discussing kangaroo ownership and she let me know that they wouldn't be too expensive because they hunt their own food to which I had to ask "Molly, what do kangaroos eat?"  "grass, flowers and birds that can't fly."...makes sense I guess. Must suck to be a bird that can't fly in Australia.

Then we went out to clean the chicken pen, I was putting some new dirt down for the stinky bastards when I looked down to see Molly lovingly holding a chicken by the face. "Oh Chicken Butt," she said, "Want to know how I named you? I looked into your eyes, and I just KNEW. I knew that you would be Chicken Butt forever and ever."

She does actually have some kinship with animals that is truly special. I can't even touch the chickens without them getting all ridiculous and feathery, but she can stare romantically into a chicken's eyes and hold it in her hands and it seems just as captivated as she is.

So after this weird little moment with Chicken Butt, we are having a chat about pets and responsibility and all the chores that would be required to keep this insane Canadian zoo that she is planning. She looks extremely thoughtful hanging on to her demented chicken friend, and then she comes up with her version of a negotiation;

"Mom, I think I got this. If we get all the animals, I will feed them, and ride them, and I will love them and take care of them and walk them and wash them. I will love them and they will love me. I will do EVERYTHING....(big pause) I will do everything except clean up their shit. That will be your job cause you are really really super good at cleaning."

Some Mollyisms

I can totally see why from the outside my 'chose not to be parent' friends are feeling like they got the golden ticket and they will be musically crunching magic mushrooms - er chocolate - with Willy Wonka in a few minutes. It's kind of messy, there is very little of that full on pass the fuck out sleep, and it is bloody expensive. But from the inside there are messy little nuggets of gold. I don't think parenting is for everyone and I think we owe it to the world not to harass the living shit out of our childless friends with obligatory "You're missing out"isms. For me though there is nothing quite as amazing as that I created this little person that has my eyes, my hair and my psychotic temper, and is also entirely her own little sweet, smarmy, world dominating self.

So today I am just going to throw down a few Mollyisms that I have been storing up, because I hear that some of you are missing out.

A few months ago Sam and I were going through the ordeal of selling our house. We were getting stretched pretty thin and i was in a piss poor state, and my little comedian seemed to sense that she was needed on stage. I was sitting in the kitchen getting mentally beyond stretched when I heard light chuckling in the bathroom. The laughing got louder and louder and finally she came running out of the bathroom naked with about 1 foot of toilet paper wedged between her butt cheeks, yelling "I'm a whitetail deer! Get it mom? I'm a whitetail deer!"

My mom got her a Rockin' Elmo for Christmas one year, and she headbanged so hard to "Elmo's gonna rock" that she fell off the patio and hit her head on the bbq. I picked her up and asked her if she was okay and she said she "was clearly rocking out too hard that time mom"

One day when I was feeling too ill to take her to the horses I said "I'm sorry buddy, we can't do that today, Mom feels like crap" and she actually looked me up and down and said "Because of your hair?" Talk about kicking me while I was down.

For three months when she was really small and just learning words she would wake me up EVERY day with the same routine. She would crawl out of bed, grab her stuffie, whack me in the face with it and say the only "word" that mattered to her at the time. "Getupfrenchtoast!"

The Christmas when she was three we went out to dinner and as we were coming home Molly was sound asleep. Sam took her inside and up to bed as I discovered that one of our jerk dogs had peed on the couch! So as Sam is tucking Molly in I am reaming out
the dogs.

The next morning Sam and I rush around trying to make her Christmas morning all magical and when we're ready Sam creeps upstairs and says "Molly, guess who was here last night? SANTA" And she sleepily replied. "Yeah he was, and he peed all over the damn couch!"

That's all for now. LD