I got to spend some time with my family in WV this past weekend. Amongst the crowd of kin was my nine-year-old nephew who I don’t get to see nearly often enough. We were hanging out in the family room Saturday evening when he began quizzing me from a book.
These were awesome questions like which would you pick: a kitchen with a pizza chef? Or an ice cream parlor? (We both wanted the pizza chef.) Have you ever, um, passed gas and blamed it on someone else? (That one we’ll keep between the nephew and me.) And then he asked, “Have you ever stepped in dog poop?”
He nodded sagely and said, “Pretty much everyone has.”
This, I think, is a good thing to know when you’re nine. Pretty much everyone has stepped in poop at some point and if you haven’t, hang on, it’s probably going to happen soon.
I’ve stepped in quite a bit of poop over the years–both literal and figurative. Dog, cow, cat, horse, turkey (I hike), and who knows what else. I’ve never meant to step in it, but there you go. Walking along, enjoying the day, and splat. The best thing to do is scrape it off your shoe, find some water for a bit of a rinse, and keep going.
My nephew probably isn’t a pro at dealing with the repercussions of stepping in poop at his tender age. But the fact that he knows life is bound to get stinky for everyone at some point makes me think he’s off to a great start.