I love a good palindrome, but I must admit that I enjoy "racecar" or "level" more than "poop".
Except when Cleo says "poop", because then it's the cutest thing ever. She adds a little "puh" to the end as she enunciates the final p, really the only enunciation in any of her words. It's just adorable. And, of course, as a 19-month-old child, she's obsessed with poop-- what it is, exactly, who has some, where it came from, if Neddie Bear or Noah can, in fact, put his poop in the potty.
So when we went to the park today, little did I know that we would find a tiny little pile of rabbit poop, and it would be her grandest discovery to date. Slides? Swings? Her new doll stroller? No.
She wants to tell EVERYBODY about the "bunn-nee poop", including my parents' 80-year-old neighbor. When I gave her raisins, she eyed them suspiciously and asked, "Bunny poop?" She had to really inspect what Lovey was doing, to see if perhaps a chihuahua could make some bunny poop. She could not.
I guess what i'm saying is that I always knew that having a child would expand my world and make the little things mean a lot, but I had no idea a pile of turds could cause me so much amusement.