First - the Scarecrow. Isn't he fun? He blows in the breeze pretty good, and the tin can & metal knitting needle feet make some fun, anti-small critter noise.
And for the "Not Nearly So Bad As The Other Time." If you are easily grossed out, now would be a good time for you to go read some other blog.... I woke up the other morning with M calling me, cheering that he had poop that needed to go in the potty (we have been emptying his poopy pants into the toilet, so he'll get the idea where that stuff is supposed to go). So I go cheerily in to change him, and then notice that he is clutching something in his hand, and his diaper is not on his booty. Ahem.
"Skish, poop... Mama, poop potty?"
Yes, dear reader, that translates to: "Look, mother dearest, the poop doth squish. Shall we deposit it into the proper receptical?"
I took a deep breath. I did not freak, but calmly explained that we do not touch poop, and as an example I calmly picked it up from his hand with a wipe, and then cleaned him up and we flushed the poo down. He has not repeated the incident.
Now, before you go thinking I'm some kind of calm-queen, super mama, I would like to point out what my dear friend Lindsay likes to remind me of: compared to me, most parents potty function horror stories are an absolute cake-walk. So, someday, as you walk in and find your kid holding something gross, or filling their tea set with toilet water, you just repeat these four little words and know that it could totally be worse:
"Painting with poop. Repeatedly."
That's right. 'Nuff said.