We didn't get to stay for fireworks because the twinks were bordering on a double-meltdown. So, we left and stopped by my parents house for a minute and then headed home. By the time we got home, it was dusk and there were fireworks everywhere. Callie was enthralled and kept wanting to see more. Wyatt was a little bit scared but was warming up to them the more he saw. Brent had already bought a pretty good pack of fireworks, so we decided to let them stay up and light some smaller ones off in the backyard. They watched about 10 of them, got bored, and asked to come inside to watch Curious George.
Me: "Callie? Did you go poo poo in the grass?"
Callie: (with huge grin on her face) "Nooooooo."
Me: "You didn't?"
Callie: "No, Mommy. Two, free (three), manys! See!"
(Translation: It couldn't have been me mommy. See! There are many turd segments in that pile. Mine don't look like that.)
Brent and I were rolling! And I still haven't shaken, "Two, free, manys!" It's playing on repeat in my head and keeps making me smile. I love it! I think I'm going to refer to piles of dog poop as "two, free, manys" from now on. I dig it.





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