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10:44 a.m. - 2004-05-16
Poop in the Tree

Poop In A Tree

Yesterday, I had the experience of babysitting my nephew, Joe.

Joe is my sister Linda's, 10 year old and is the youngest of three boys. The events of one average day in my sister's life would be enough to drain Wonder Woman of her powers, but Linda handles all of the trials and tribulations of having an active family and a full time job very well. Her organizational skills are finely honed, she has all of her priorities in order and there is not much that can drive her to the medicine cabinet looking for a tranquilizer. Like all brave warriors though, she does have an Achilles Heel and that weak spot can be summed up in the phrase, "What Will The Neighbors Think?"

To put this into perspective, I need to add that a year ago. Linda and Don bought a beautiful Tudor home in the nicest neighborhood in town. It is a peaceful neighborhood that surrounds a beautiful park. It is one of those beautiful neighborhoods where the neighbors are all considerate of each other. It is one of those "Pleasantville" kind of neighborhoods that one aspires to live in...a neighborhood where you don't want to "stand out" or be known as too noisy or rowdy. It is one of those neighborhoods where you want your neighbors to think, "Gee, now there's a nice family." Linda can handle anything, as long as it doesn't involve getting noticed by the neighbors.

Well, yesterday, it was just me and Joe. Linda and Don took their oldest son to register at the college he will attend this fall and the middle boy, Sam, was gone for the day. Having only one child to care for, we did not anticipate any glitches in the program, and Linda told me that I would have a boring day. I mean, What could go wrong?

I only had a couple of hours in the morning to be with Joe, then I had to take him to the park district theater where he was in a play, watch him in the play, leave him there for the next performance and go back to the house to wait for their return. What could go wrong?

The day started out serene enough. Joe got up and layed on the couch for a while watching Saturday morning cartoons. What could go wrong?

An hour before we were scheduled to leave for the play, Joe got dressed. Everything was going according to plan and yes it was a delightfully placid morning. What could go wrong?

In the hour between getting dressed and leaving for the play is where a series of events happened that ended with dog poop in a tree and Joes pants down around his ankles in the park accross the street while a neighbor looked on.

Now this family has a large, black Labrador Retreiver named Mudge. Mudge likes to play ball and run free. Having an hour to kill, Joe and I decided to take Mudge out to chase the ball. Joe got his bat and a baseball and took Mudge out the the park in the center of the neighborhood. I was sitting on the porch and was just minding my own business enjoying the view of the beautiful neighborhood when I heard Joe yell, "Mudge....Mudge...No Mudge."

I looked up to see Mudge in a position that dogs only use when they have to poop and then heard Joe wail "Oh, Mudge" in a tone that let me know that Joe's attempt to comand the dog not to poop, failed.

I laughed and yelled to Joe, "I'll go get you a bag to clean that up with, you just stand there so we don't lose the spot where he pooped."

I fetched a plastic grocery bag and brought it to Joe, who proceeded to scoop the poop into the bag. I started walking toward the house and said "put the bag of poop in the trash can."

Hearing no response like "OK" or anything, I turned around and saw him swinging the bag of poop around like a sling above his head like he was going to see how far he could throw it. I believe that Joe had every intention of throwing it toward the trash can and had no mischievious intent. Hurling a bag of dog poop in the direction of a trash can makes perfect sense to a 10 year old boy. After all, it still ends up in the trash can. I mean, what could go wrong.

I yelled out to him, "Don't throw that poop!" but I was too late.

The bag was swinging full circle above his head and I could tell by the lump in the bottom of the bag and the position of Joes arm that a large bag of dog poop was about to be hurled in my direction. He let go of the projectile and we both watched it fly out of his hand and head upward toward the pine tree. Up, up, up went the poop and it seemed like we were watching it in slow motion, until it reached about 30 feet up and there it lodged solidly in the branches of the tree.

"Sorry" said Joe.

I just laughed. I didn't think much of it and told Joe, "toss your bat up in the air and when it hits the branch, it will knock the bag of poop out of the tree."

He tossed the bat up about 10 or 15 times and hit his target, but that tree would not give up it's prize.

Just then, one of Linda and Don's neighbors came out and not recognizing me said, "What's going on here?"

I turned around and sheepishly told him about the bag of poop and how it got stuck in the tree and that we were trying to dislodge it so we could dispose of it properly in the garbage can.

He kindly laughed and said "Don't worry about it."

Just then, as if there was some poltergeist trying to seize the opportunity to embarrass us more throroughly, the button on Joes pants came undone and his pants dropped completely down to his ankles, exposing his underpants. Poor Joe, who already was afraid that his Dad would be mad for throwing poop into the park's tree, had to endure the additional embarrassment of standing there, pants around his ankles in front of one of the neighbors.

I instantly knew I had another story to write and it started forming in my head as a Dr. Suessian sort of rhyme that would go something like this:

In a park in Des Plaines, at 5th and Main, there's a bag full of poop in a tree."

The balance of the day went according to plan and after the play, I returned to the house. The phone rang and it was my sister's cheery voice. "Hi, how did it go?"

"Great", I said.

"Did anything happen?" Linda asked.

"Nothing much." I replied, "Oh, except I now have another story to write."

"Oh no, what happened." she said supiciously.

"Oh let's just say that It involved dog poop in the tree in the park across the street."

"There's poop in a tree." she said to her husband. I heard a faint expletive in the background. "Don's not laughing." she said.

I said "It gets better...your neighbor came out and saw the whole thing."

"Oh..My..God" she sighed.

I didn't have the heart to tell her at the time that Joes pants came off too. I'll save that one for later.

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