A Box of Poop

Christmas is here!!!


I love, love, LOVE this time of year. Celebrating Jesus, family, Caramel Brulée lattes, decorations, gifts, music, hot cocoa, fires in the fire place, cool weather, parties and so much more!

It just doesn’t get any better than that!

I’m sure you’re wondering why I would title this apparent love note to Christmas with “A Box of Poop.”?


Well, my sister ( technically my sister-in-law, but we’re MUCH closer, and that’s too formal-ish) text me today asking if I had old Christmas pictures of me and Super Cute Boy. So while my daughter napped,

My cute kid.

I started digging through the MILLIONS of albums on my laptop for the pictures.

I found one titled “Pics,Winter 10-11” and assumed I would find what I needed in there. Yes I found the wonderful holiday pictures of our tree, family, and the puppies.

Our first tree together.


But I found something greater. Something magnificent that had been stored away in my laptop, waiting for me to happen upon it.


My box of poop.


My picture of a box of poop.


See, Super Cute Boy is extremely hard to shop for. He has even admitted to this fact. When we first we married, I would ask him what he wanted for Christmas, birthdays, etc. He would answer me, and anyone else who asked with


A box of poop.


Ah, Super Cute Boy was so clever. However, he had met ( and married) his match.

It was February of 2011, and his birthday was just around the corner. So I went to work.

The ingredients.


Starting to look realistic.

Pretty good…needs something else.

There. Corn and toilet paper.


Then I presented Super Cute Boy with his birthday gift.

Opening the gift.

Enjoying his box of poop.


So there you have it. Super Cute Boy learned to never respond with ” A box of poop” again.


You didn’t think it was actual poop, did you? Because that’s just gross.



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