That's Not Chocolate

If you are a parent or have young siblings say it with me: Children. Are. Disguisting. I'm not referring to the constant stream of drool they seem to produce, or even the dreaded diaper bombs. No, I'm talking about the seriously nasty stuff. My kid is one of the worst offenders. He has been guilty of dropping food onto a dog hair covered floor and picking it up and eating it. If he finds random french fries that have been sitting in his car seat for god knows how long, he will eat them. And today took the cake. We went to the movies today and I bought him buncha crunch. We came home and I was reading a book and didn't pay attention to what was going on when my son comes up to me and says really sweetly, "Here you go mommy." And he held out his hand and dropped something round and brown in my palm. Upon first glance it appeared to be a buncha crunch and I figured he had picked it up off the floor, but after further inspection, I realized he had just handed me a fun-sized version of Mr. Hanky. For those of you that don't watch South Park, it was shit. That's right, my child dug into his freshly made load and procured a turd just for mommy. I guess it was his creative way of telling me he needed a fresh diaper. I am just amazed that children have the capacity to be so dang gross. Like off the charts gross. I know that toddlers don't really grasp that what they're doing is nasty exactly, but sometimes I think in the back of my head they know exactly what they are doing and they find new ways to up the ante on the vomit inducer scale. I'm pretty sure I saw that tell-tale meschevious glint in his eye when he handed me his scavenged turd. Not that he would tell me. He's too busy acquainting his finger with his nose.