My life is one big rotation of games;

“Are You Smarter Than Your Preschooler?”

“How Many Ways Can a Toddler Escape?”

“Where’s the Shoe?”

“Name that Poop”

“How to Remove Poop From Any Surface”

“Did You Eat That?”

“You Have a Penis”

and

“Shhh. Mommy’s Pooping”

Fun things I said this week:

Why did you poop in your bottle?

How did you get the poop all over your crib, clothes and pillow but not on your butt or your hands?

No, mommy didn’t drop her penis. She never had one.

Did you just pee into that boot?

Did you just pee on mommy’s horse book?

Why did you pee on the page with a photo of two horses mating and a detailed diagram of the horse’s estrus cycle?

Where did all that sidewalk chalk go? He ate it? All of it?

We don’t put our fingers in our buttholes. Or anyone else’s butthole.

Why are the twins covered in grease?

Why are the twins covered in ashes?

Where’s the duct tape? I’ve changed the twins’ crib sheets 4 times this week. I want to tape their diapers on.

Stop ramming your head into that.

Where are the boys? (That’s always the scariest question)

Why is there a turd in the horse trough?

Why is there a turd in the baby pool?

Did you eat the June bug?

Catch that dog! It has a poop in its mouth!

Wow! The balloon butts your sisters made you are the most adorable things I’ve ever seen!