Award-winning Nasties

My long postponed postpartum (by a year, ugh) weight loss program has just been aided by these two incidents. 

First of all, I'm working up in my room when I hear a commotion outside.  I hurry downstairs and out the door just in time to hear Jake yelling, "No James, you can't have it!" and then see him yanking a large, half-full Dunkin Donuts cup out of his hands.  James screams, "But it's mine coffee!  It's mine coffee!"  I look into the cup to see what it really is James has been snacking on and find that it is indeed cold coffee, with little bugs floating in it.  I ask James where he got it and he matter-of-factly trots down the sidewalk and points to a spot on the curb.  Coffee aside, it was the sticky straw he'd been sucking on that really got me.

To Whom It May Concern:  Please don't leave your nasty old coffee where little kids might find it and think they've won the lottery.  And if you do, please brush your teeth before you start drinking it.

Secondly, I take the kids to the river to play.  It is a lovely little spot where the North and South Umpqua join.  It's a beautiful day and we're feeling well (minus my hurt feelings from having to see myself in a swimming suit).  I'm playing in the sand with Audrey when Clara runs up with a crawdad she's caught.  She's wondering why it's not trying to pinch her (lots of experience with that), determines that it's dead, and drops it next to me to dry in the sun so she can take it home and put it on her dresser to stink up the upper level of our house.  It was very stinky.  I'm distracted

with James for a moment, then turn to find Audrey munching on the tail of the crawdad.  She has pulled off the claws (one down her suit) and has little swimmerets dribbling down her chin.  I'm horrified.  I scream.  She is totally unfazed, pulls out the crawdad to examine it.  I relax.  Then she pops it back in, this time crunching enough exoskeleton to suck out some pallid, ultra-stinky flesh.  I begin to laugh hysterically and scream again, this time having the presence of mind to pull it out of her mouth and toss it back into the river.  She cries.  Then she finds a claw and is occupied with burying it in the sand.

Moral of the story:  Don't waste time laughing, just pull out the crawdad.