Poop?

Not about baby things - imagine that!

An intelligent conversation between my sister and I last night, in the basement while moving crap from the garage downstairs for the party:

Me: EW! What is that on the window sill? Is that poop? Dirt?

S: Uh, I have no idea.

Me: EW! It looks like it's coming out of the window! It's too small to be mouse poop, right? RIGHT?

S: Uh, I have no clue. Ew. Let me get closer. I still don't know.

Me: Ew! Don't touch it, I'm not touching it. Is it saw dust? Like bugs burrowed through the wall or window frame or something? Ew. I'm not touching it!

S: Jen, I have no idea what it is.

Me: Lets get out of here!

{{and you can hear the baby crying in the background, because we've left her outside in the yard in her stroller while we examine the crumbly pile... I'm such a good mom.}}

I'm 30, my sister almost 28.  And neither of us would touch whatever it was to find out. I think she was annoyed with me. Whatever, it was gross.

I will have to send C downstairs to check it out. That's why I keep him around - for reaching things my vertically challenged butt can't, killing bugs, and cleaning piles of unidentifiable stuff. Oh yeah, and he's cute.