on birds, moles and growing up.

Am I the only one who feels like she's waiting for the grown ups to come? A few weeks ago, I opened the curtains on a Sunday morning to discover fresh bird droppings in the middle of our living room window. Claire immediately wanted to know what that was, so I told her, "it's poo." Every day she would point it out to me, as if to say, come on, mom, clean that crap up. Around the same time, we discovered another giant poo, this time on our back door. For some reason, it didn't occur to me that I should be the one to clean it. It also didn't occur to Nate. Suddenly we were those people. You know, those people with the poo on their house. A week went by before I filled a bucket with sudsy water and scraped the poo off of the front and back of my house, it took about 3 minutes.

Around the same time, Nate decides to make it his mission in life to kill the moles that have been destroying our backyard. He got two of them in under a week and we've had no fresh mole holes for the first time in months. We are both thrilled. I guess we're growing up. We've stopped waiting for the grownups to kill the vermin or take care of the poo.
My husband: making backyards safe, one mole at a time.