Who Let Their Dogs Out.

Ahhh. Today I did some running around with Monty and Looch. We went back to the Ministry of Transportation place, Drive Clean test form in hand, and all was well. Felt rather smug and responsible going back to my car.

Told Monty to go in Lucy's side and climb to his seat, as there were cars going by on the other side of the car. He did this, and I got Lucy in. When I went back around the other side to buckle Monty in I see this big smear of dog crap on the seat between the kids.

Eeuuw! "Where did that come from!?"

Look around, don't see any other crap. I do my best to scrape it off with the two baby wipes I have in my purse. It is disgusting.

Then I get into my seat. The SMELL. I am almost wanting to die with the smell of the crap. Then I go to put my seat belt on and my hand slides into something on the front of my coat.

Now I am uttering this low moan. Crap. On the front of my coat. On my hand. And now, on the seat belt. I jump back out of the car, yelling and huffing and puffing.

Some guy walks by and smiles at me. "How's it goin?" He says. I think he was stoned. I think the look I gave him probably wrecked his high.

I am standing outside my car. I have no baby wipes left. I grab a paper from the floor of the car. "Hey!" Monty yells at me. "That's my Jesus Homework!" (That's what he calls the papers he brings home from Sunday school.)

"Oh." I say. "You're right, honey." I grab an old happy meal bag, glad for once that my car is never clean. I do my best to clean my hand, my coat, the seatbelt.

The kids are smiling at me like two little summer peas from the back seat. Monty is pointing to the back of my seat and laughing. I look.

More crap. On the back of my seat. At this point I am looking for the hidden camera. Because poop doesn't just multiply like this out of nowhere, without special FX people in the wings.

But it ain't a special effect. It just stinks way too much. "My boot!" Monty yells.

I look at the bottom of his boot. It is covered in dog crap. It all comes together. He smeared it on the seat going across it. He playfully kicked me in the stomach when I went to do up his seat belt. And then he kicked the back of my seat.

Blech. I can't even write anymore. It hasn't been long enough for me to see the humour. All I can tell you is, I am off to SUDS tomorrow morning.

And check your kids shoes before they get in the car.

A.