kiwords

Of all their many morning chores (brush teeth! empty dishwasher! it's like the Gulag!), Tre and Max's least favorite one is called Poop Patrol. This is pretty much just what it sounds like. Every day one of them heads out to the back yard, plastic bags at the ready, to scoop up the leavings of their dog, bag it, and throw it away. Then they come in and wash their hands while complaining bitterly about what a terrible job the other one does, leaving ALL the work for HIM and it's NOT FAIR.

Raphael doesn't do Poop Patrol, because he's always been too little. This chafes at him. He yearns to be in the ranks of the Poop Patrolers. I suppose it's because he sees it as an Important Job, reserved for those who have attained the vaunted age of at least nine years old. He will never quite forgive Tre and Max for being older than him and having all the fun.

A few weeks ago he started agitating to be able to do Poop Patrol too. He usually asked me at breakfast, not my most interactive sort of time of the day, so I mostly just goggled at him and muttered something about thinking about it. I mean, WHO wants to do Poop Patrol? Really?

Eventually he got tired of waiting for me, and he appealed to Clay. They worked out a solution, that Raphael would do PP with Clay on Sundays. This was a tidy arrangement, because it means Raphael will have supervision, and it doesn't muck with the finer points of the current schedule (Tre is responsible for the days with T in them, Tuesday, Thursday, and SaTurday. Max takes the alternate days. Elegant, no? Well, it helps me remember, anyhow).

Yesterday I woke up, as usual, to the sounds of boys staging a violent uprising. Waking up. Whatever. They were ping-ponging around the kitchen, collecting breakfast and irritating each other. In the midst of the chaos, Raphael announced,

"Today I am going to do Poop Patrol." He sounded so pleased and proud. "Today ME and MY DAD are going to do Poop Patrol. Just ME and MY DAD."

His brothers ignored him, but I listened. He was just aglow with the importance of the task and his dad's company. He could not have been more pleased to be going outside in the dead of winter and scooping up cold dog poop.

I guess you really never know what's going to warm their little hearts, do you?