Saturday, August 06, 2005

In Which Much Poop Is Discussed At McDonald's


In the too-late-to-back-out part of the drive-through, where you're trapped between the ordering place and the money-paying place. Me, Alex (driving), and Bella, who is chanting "cheebuger, cheebuger, cheebuger" from her carseat. (She sounds exactly like John Belushi from the old SNL skit when she does it, but I suppose the reference would be lost on her unless SpongeBob said it.) The driver's window is still rolled down from placing the order.

Me: "I smell poop."

Alex: "Bella"?

Me: "No, I think it's wafting in from outside. Oh, WOW! You don't smell that?"

Alex: "Yeah. I think someone pinched one off right out here" (pointing down to the pavement outside his window). A way with words, my husband has.

Me: "That just could not happen. It couldn't."

Alex: "Sure it could." Alex never, ever underestimates humanity's capacity for going bug-nuts at a moment's notice.

Me: (Not about to be outdone in the gross mental-image department by my husband) "Well, I would have said that no one would ever possibly take a dump on an airline food-service cart in mid-flight, either, but that happened, didn't it?"

Alex: "Yeah, and that was verified!"

Me: "Verified?"

Alex: "Yes, by about...several people." (We both now dissolve into laughter at the disintigration of the hard facts in our posession surrounding the infamous mid-air public pooper.)

Me: "You know what? You really ARE funnier than I think you are."

And somehow, we were still able to eat after that. I think poop talk is way too common in our home.

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