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Gross

This afternoon as Magoo appeared to be settling in to build a summer home in the city park porta-potty, I got to wondering, “Why do these delightful young people have such a fascination with all things gross and disgusting?”

Although I made them both use the bathroom exactly one millisecond before we left for the park, as soon as we arrived and came in visual contact with the stinky poo boxes, they suddenly had to go again. Because porta-potties are cool. Because they don’t flush. Because within their walls are found the contents of an entire week’s worth of visitors’ bowels.

You can study them and loudly narrate your findings periodically reminding your mother that you’re “NOT. DONE. Yet.” And it’s not just other people’s deposits that my kids are fascinated with. They also spent several minutes yesterday recording their own home-grown samples on my flip video camera.

Their scatological research is quite groundbreaking.

They also love slugs and boogers, which I believe are two different species in the same genus of gooey things that make mommy scream.

Dirt is good but mud is better. Dirty mud with permanently staining slime on it is best.

I used to look at those Grossology games, books, and museum exhibits and wonder what kind of people were interested in that kind of junk. I’m finding that it’s the kind of people who live at my house, the kind of people Dan and I make. And I wonder if I was ever like that. Did I ever make up songs using the names of all the private body parts? Was garbage my favorite play thing ever?

I came to the beach armed with buckets, shovels, and drinks.

In the end, they transported sand and water in an old Subway bag they found on the beach. For food, they picked old crackers out of the sand. If I’m being honest, I should admit that I’m not above rescuing a fallen Goldfish, a firm believer in the 3-second rule. But that’s when they’re my Goldfish and I know whether they’ve been dropped early that minute or that year.

I guess I just need to somehow get a handle on how they think, and then maybe I can trick them out of their grossness.

 

Unused Toys

 

Trash = Awesome Fun

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