About poop.We have, for the past several years, had a mystery poop-maker in our yard. We would discover this on the front porch, and make guesses as to the creature leaving the little gifts for us. Too big to be squirrel, we thought. Maybe an armadillo? We never really knew if there were armadillos in our neighborhood, though. Too small to be raccoon, but we only saw a raccoon here once, a couple of years ago. Possum, perhaps. It was all guessing, and we had no answers.
So here is the conversation my lovely husband and I had yesterday evening.
Him: Hey, honey. You know those poops?
Me: Yeah, didja step on some?
Him: No, I know where it comes from! (excited like)
Me: (excited about this, too) Really?
Me: Go figure!
This is all just a big distraction from the fact that I'm freaking the fuck out over my ridiculously low E2. Toad poop. This is pathetic.