One reason I’m glad that my son doesn’t like to eat vegetables

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You will never guess what Ethan did yesterday.

His grandparents came to our house yesterday. Usually when they are here, I will either hide in the basement or keep myself busy in the kitchen, because witnessing how they let their grandchildren do anything is like taking bullets to my bare chest. NOTHING CAN STOP THEM!

After dinner, they were hanging with Ethan and Maya in the living room. Matt came out of the bathroom and found Ethan playing with a piece of brownish grape-sized THING. When he was trying to figure out what it was, my father-in-law said knowingly that it’s a piece of chocolate that Ethan picked up from under the ottoman. I heard that from the kitchen and I was all, “How is that possible a piece of chocolate was left on the floor in my living room?” Then suddenly Matt picked up Ethan under his arms and held him at least a foot away from his body as the smell hit him like an ax in his face. And he knew that piece of chocolate that his father referred to was in fact one of Ethan’s HARD-ROCK POOP PEBBLES. Yes, my father-in-law let my son play with shit. How much love it is!

Matt carried Ethan like a dead rat to the bathroom and¬†sterilized his hands. We were trying to understand the physic behind this incident, like how did his poop sneak out his diaper and pants and land under the ottoman without anyone’s notice? And what’s wrong with his grandpa’s nose?

We figured the only explanation¬†is that Ethan grabbed it out of his diaper himself. Maybe he was too bored, maybe you was still hungry, I HAVE NO IDEA! One thing I’m pretty sure is I couldn’t be more thankful that Ethan never likes to eat vegetables. Imagine his poopy hand comes out from his healthy soft feces, and he paints graffiti everywhere in the house.

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