What dog barf? Part 2.

"Eewwww! Mom! What is that?"

Grace has spotted the dog barf.

"It looks like a giant earwig."

She is pointing to the wad of regurgitated grass lying just so next to the actual barf/bile part.

I pretend to glance back as I'm wrestling Anne's car seat through the door without hitting Lauren in the head.

"It's dog puke," I say. "Not a giant earwig." Now I'm laughing. "But that's pretty creative, Gracie."

"We need to clean it up, mommy," she says, looking back furtively as I urge her to keep moving.

"We've gotta go, honey. I don't have time. Daddy will get it." I hope I sound convincing, but I'm really just thinking there is no way I'm cleaning that up. I'm not.

Tuesday night the puke was gone.