This morning Will was playing with one of those plastic Easter eggs and figuring out which of his toys would fit inside the egg. He called to me, "what's that mommy?", and he was pointing to something on our living room carpet. It was early morning, so it was still a little dark in the room, but it appeared to me to be a little pebble--probably something one of us tracked in from the outside with our shoes. I said, "it's a rock, baby," to which he replied "oh!" and promptly put it into the plastic egg, shaking it to make noise like a rattle.
Later, we were in the playroom where the sun shines in brightly through a large window. I was holding the plastic egg as Will played with other toys. I opened the egg and caught a whiff of something a little unpleasant. Upon closer inspection, I realized the "pebble" that Will had been playing with all morning was really a piece of cat poo. A petrified, hard piece of cat poo that my long-haired Persian cat, Doug, must have deposited in the living room.
Needless to say, copious hand washing and egg washing ensued.
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