I became a Turd Grabber

I felt sorry for the dog. After a couple rainy days she looked bored. So I assembled the necessary items for a walk, cell phone, keys (because everyone has abandoned me tonight) and a plastic bag in case of the dreaded poop. The plastic bag unfortunately proved to be useful because the boys, who are no longer in my will and legally I only have to feed one of them until April, forgot to mention they never let her out today.
I became a turd grabber this evening. Our normal walking route are the roads less traveled by cars, so we can walk down the middle of the road and Buckeye doesn't stop every two feet to smell other dogs pee. But this road, by the pool was over populated as the swim meet dispersed. I swore like a drunken sailor under my breath. The dog was so excited to see the swimmers, she pooped. Being as excited as she was, she pooped while walking. I've had to maybe grab turds 3 times since we've had her. So with a hyperactive dog attached to my left hand and a plastic bag on my right, I attempted the impossible, in front of a stream of families walking and driving home from the swim meet. Probably, I'll never eat again.

Trucks, Turds, Tools and Dead Things. This Post is For You Relax Max

The hell you say Relax Max, this is no girlie blog. Relax Max has failed to grasp the severity of a broken hair dryer. It was a traumatic morning for me and now, to redeem myself, I've promised to post about trucks.

The husband drives a truck, a Colorado, it has standard transmission and I can drive it too. It's red.

I've taken a long, hard look at my blog and can not believe I've fallen into the girlie blog category, I've posted about dog turds, that's not girlie. And if you go way back into my archives all I posted about were tools, that's how this blog started, trying to sell tools online.

Occasionally I drive the husbands truck when it's behind my SUV in the driveway and I haul groceries in it.

I've posted about dead bunnies, dear deer and dead chip monks. Dead things are not girlie. No this isn't a girlie blog. Relax Max, one of my frequent visitors and commenter's, is just being shallow and pedantic.

Mrs. Kravitz Moment, Aug. 4, 2008

I'm so proud of the neighbor kid. He's finally shed the training wheel monkey off his back and is riding around the neighborhood on two wheels, mom and little sister running behind him.

I know my readers have been patiently waiting for my latest "Mrs. Kravitz moment," the last one was about turds. It started off with the kid and the training wheels but ended up with dog poop. You just never know what will unfold outside your office window.
Today I'm focusing on one of the first major steps towards independence. And I don't think she's going to let him do it just yet. She's keeping up with him pretty well. I don't know what it is with us moms and their children riding off and leaving you in the dust on that first solo bike ride, but it tugs hard at the heart. Perhaps we know right then, deep down that we're the next monkey on their backs they are going to try to shake.

I won't get sappy, I won't get sappy, I won't get sappy.

Maybe I'm a little sappy because I've spent the last 3 weeks signing Boy #2 up for college classes and when sitting in the councilors offices in college, all of a sudden I became a lump in the second chair with my purse on my lap. Straining to see over my baby's broad shoulder as he plans his future.
Is this the little boy I taught to ride a bike?
Shouldn't I have a little more say in what he does with his life so he can support me when I'm old?
I'm getting away from this window before I get all misty.

Turd Grabbers

During my recent Mrs. Kravitz moment as I watched my neighbors teaching their little boy how to ride a bike, I couldn't help but notice at least five people going by the house walking their dogs. I've been known to stare out my window for long periods of time. It's part of my fat ass problem.
The dog walkers all strolled past at various times and in various shapes and sizes, but all with one thing in common, a filled poop bag. The way they all confidently walked past my house you could tell they were skilled, seasoned dog walkers. They have a certain air about them as they saunter by with a leash in one hand and swinging a bag of poop in the other. For those of you that do not have a dog to walk, let me explain to you how the poop gets in the bag.
It's somewhat of an art form. Since a dog will crap just about anywhere, owners must always be on the ready for turd removal. They take their plastic bag and stick their hand in it. Grab the turds with just that thin layer of plastic between their hand and the doo doo. With a single motion they will swoop those turds into the bag, turning it inside out and tie a knot in the bag, securing the turds and smell neatly in the bag of their choice, continuing merrily on their way in less than a minute.
They are an elite group of turd grabbers, for this is not an easy task. Getting it all in one felt swoop requires skill. Not dropping a single turd requires concentration and patience. So when you see a turd grabber walking down the street, give them a nod of encouragement, they have skills beyond ours, they are good at what they do and they are keeping the community poop free.