I was watching Veronica have some time with her daddy this morning. They seemed happy, so I got a plastic shopping bag and went outside to do what I do pretty much every weekend.

Pick up doggie poop

I was sad. It has become a favorite mommy-daughter activity. As I make a slow grid pattern over the lawn, Veronica will trail me, paying close attention to the grass. Sometimes she finds it first, but if she does not, I will stop and point.

“Look! What’s that?”

she will carefully look around and then point her chubby toddler finger and announce “Doggie Poop!”

I will carefully wrap the plastic bag around the offending matter, and we will start our search trek again.

She’s very serious about it. Sometimes, she will even count the pieces. “Doggie poop! one…two..three!”

“Very good!”

She will not always take this task so seriously. She will not always be this companionable as I do my (no pun intended) duty.

AND plastic grocery bags may not always be available. They are under attack from different sides.

So I was sad this morning, because I didn’t have my apprentice in the dog poop patrol.

Then the back door swung open “She wants to come with you!” Chris announced. And my tow-headed delight came running out to join the party.

“Look! It’s doggie poop!” I told her.

“Doggie Poop!”

Life can be really funny sometimes. I don’t want our doggie poop saturday mornings to stop.