Of Clouds and Billiards

My mom likes to play this game with Ellie where they look at the clouds and tell each other what the shapes are. Elephants, ice cream cones, cars, you name it.

In the last few days, Ellie has adapted the game into other spheres. The one with which I'm not sure what to do, is the poop. It's the cloud game, but with poop. The other day, she called from the bathroom, "Mommy! I made a water bottle poopoo! Come see!" Yesterday, she surprised me with this query, "What shape does your poopoo look like, mommy?" (I will note here for you readers, that like all other women in this world, I do not "go poopoo." Not ever. No gas, either.)

So far, I just play along. "Nice poopoo! Now flush, wash your hands, and tell your daddy exactly what you just told me."

Since I've already ruined your day with this topic, I'm just going to run with it. Ellie also calls her poop like a professional billiards player. You know, like when they say, "5 ball in the corner pocket," or something like that? When Ellie goes in for a number 2, she likes to tell you exactly what she's going to produce. As in, "it's going go be two big ones," or "this time, it's going to be one big one, then two little ones," or my favorite, the triple combo, "it's going to be a big one, then a little one, then another big one." Sometimes she loses track and has me check to see where she's at in her sequence. Is that weird?

Please, don't answer that.