I wrote about lowering my expectations yesterday….more specifically about a poop on the floor incident. But, that was more of a thoughtful piece, unlike my usual poop posts. Have I said the word “poop” too much in the last three sentences? Or in general? Interesting side note—I actually would not ever say the word “poop” until I was 23-years-old, and that was only because I started working at a daycare center and had to. Before that, I would literally cringe whenever someone would say the word. I couldn’t stand it. In fact, my college boyfriend used to taunt me by listing various ways of expressing the act of pooping. And I would scream and beg him to stop while he laughed hysterically. True story.

This might be the biggest tangent I’ve ever gone off on….

Anyway, what I meant to say here is that while my thoughts about the poop on the floor incident were more profound than funny when looking back on it, it wasn’t exactly that way in the moment. Here is the actual conversation (in part) Alex and I had while I cleaned poop off the floor (by the way, I’ve said poop seven times so far, but here’s some more):