Oh, Poo

You know you've been married a very long time when the first thing you discuss with your husband in the morning is the status of your dog's poop.  "What's the Poopy Report?" I asked hubby today.  His answer:  "Good form."  You may wonder why I even care about my dog's poop.  Shouldn't I be more concerned with the state of the world?  No.  I already know the world turned to sh*t ages ago.  I don't need any updates.  But Dusty's poop is always in flux.  What could be more fun than tracking it daily?  Many things, I'm sure.  Still, you can learn so much about a dog by reviewing his kaka at length.  I didn't know this when I first got a dog.  No one said, "You'll talk about poop a lot when you get a dog."  Instead, it was, "Expect $5,000 worth of damage, if not more, within the first few months of puppyhood."  That estimate?  Too low.  Of course, I didn't know I'd be talking about poop when I had babies, either.  If someone had told me, "Babies poop a lot.  It's one of their earliest accomplishments.  You will become obsessed with how often, and what it all means, and brag about it to your friends," the SJG might be childless (and dogless) right now.  I might be living in a Downton Abby-esque castle, ordering the servants around.  But I'll take this version of my life, poop and all.  At least we never run out of things to talk about.