Well, crap.

The question is not, surprisingly, do I MIND missing my second dinner of the holiday season to pry chunks of hard crap out of my littlest kid's rear. It is, actually, am I the kind of parent that will tell her future lovers of the year Mommy had to miss Christmas dinner to use a buttered Qtip to assist her with the waste process.

 Hmmm.

As I sit here, nursing my diet seven up in a wine glass (because it's Christmas, dammit, and I'm going to have SOMETHING in a wine glass) I've decided it might not be my right. That may change as I get older, and I have nothing more amusing to talk about because my child addled brains finally dribbled out of my ears (actually, it's probably true right now, because I think this is pretty funny, and I have nothing better to talk about.)

Although it is a classic story....

I have a feeling yesterday's story will change as the years go, however.... you know, How Mommy Didn't Catch The Middle Child on Christmas Eve and Had to Call 911 and Spend the Afternoon in the ER just isn't funny. And not at all usable for blackmail. Unless SHE wants to blackmail ME.

This has been a crazy couple of days, and still qualifies as the best Christmas ever. The girls got everything they could want or need, I got to see almost my entire family, and I got cookware.

Life is good. Now back to crap prying.