Shane has one playground routine I could live without.
Saturday morning, Shane and I went out garage-saleing as usual. There weren't any good sales in our immediate vicinity, so I ended up carting him half a mile before calling it quits. However, I knew there was a playground up ahead that Shane had visited yet, so I slogged on another quarter of a mile to give him a thrill.
We arrived at the playground, and my son took of running. He made a loop around looking at all the gear. Once he was done surveying the landscape, he sprinted over to the slides. Shane flew up a flight of stairs, a baby blur, and then he stopped. He got really quiet. That's when the grunting started.
Shane likes to poop when he gets to a new playground. He will climb up somewhere, or he will hide under something and gets down to business.
Maybe it's Shane's attempt to mark his baby territory, but you're doing something wrong, son! The poop stays in your pants! It's called a diaper. The playground remains unmarked and you get to carry your business on with you.
Unfortunately, this means I can't let Shane run around as long as he would want. He always complains about leaving, but if his heinie stays in the baby marinade too long he'd be complaining louder for longer the rest of the day.
One day, he'll use a toilet or at least go behind a bush.
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