The entry falls under the heading of "TMI"

Warning. . . . if you have a weak stomach you might not want to finish reading this entry

Consider yourself warned.

I had a great day with Noah (who is on winter break from preschool for the next two weeks). He helped me pick out anniversary cards for my parents, played a bit, and then we had a "big boy" lunch at a fantastic Mediterranean place with my mom and Auntie Arlene. Not wanting to cook or hang out at home tonight we took Noah to the mall where he had dinner and rode the merry-go-round together. It was a nice evening. Until we got home.

Noah had not had a poopy diaper all day. No big deal. So we got home from the mall, got him undressed for his bath, and then he ran around the house naked like he does every night. Next thing we know, he is standing in the kitchen next to Dan and I and there is a big turd on the floor (at least he had the good sense to do it on the tile and not our newly cleaned carpet). While Dan and I were trying to process the fact that our son has just pooped on the floor, our lovely dachshund Elie came into the kitchen, put the turd in his mouth, AND CARRIED IT INTO OUR FAMILY ROOM AND ATE IT! When he was finished, he just looked at the three of us with this shit-eating grin on his face, as if to say "what's the big deal."

It's been an hour since this happened and we are still stunned. And repulsed. And it goes without saying that neither one of us wants Elie licking our faces (or any other body part) this evening.