Mom put some moss balls in my aquarium. They are a solid round mass of moss that live in water. They are like green snow balls. They are cute and cuddly. The internet says that the moss balls are the perfect plant for people without a green thumb because you can’t kill them. I didn’t know that some people’s thumbs were green. If their thumbs are green, are their toes green too?
Anyway, some people think that the moss balls are my poop. Seriously?
My poop is big. For sure. But it’s not bigger than my head. Seriously.
Mom WAS surprised when she first saw my poop. She told me that it reminded her of the time she found out about toad poop. That’s right, toad poop. This is how it happened.
Two summers ago, mom dug a pond in our yard. That’s another long story. Anyway, she dug the pond so that she could have some frogs. She dug the pond, but no frogs came. So being a bit impatient and wanting instant gratification, mom went and bought three tadpoles. They were the size of dimes and nickels. Mom would walk out to the pond everyday to see the progression of the tadpoles turning into frogs. Nothing was happening fast. Instant gratification was taking too long. Mom said a few bad words under her breath.
Then one morning she found a black mass floating in the shallow waters of the pond. It looked like the detached head of the tadpole. Her heart starting beating, beating, beating. She was horrified, sad and confused. She tried poking it with a stick. Nothing. She got close and tried to look for a mouth or eyes. But it was just a mass. A blob. Do tadpoles disintegrate so quickly? Sigh. One lost tadpole. At least she had two more.
Then a few days later she found another blob. Two dead tadpoles. Then another blob. All the tadpoles were dead. Mom started googling for living frogs shipped from Florida through ebay. She was hell bent on getting her instant gratification.
The next day she walked to the pond. And there was another blob. Wait a minute. There were only three tadpoles. Wait, what? Wait. What?
After much googling, mom found out that the big black blobs were not dead tadpoles. They were toad poop. Mom had been mourning over toad poop.
This is when mom found out the size of toad poop. It is the size of a dime. I kid you not.
And here is the kicker: my poop is bigger! Take THAT universe! (But not as big as the moss balls in my tank.)
I am so proud of my big poop. Happy Friday.