Always with the Poop

I feel like every other blog I post has something to do with poop. With a 4-year-old boy, a potty-training daughter, and an infant, I suppose this is to be expected. But today tops them all, I think. After tucking Ella in with a book for her nap, I heard her quietly calling "Mooooo-myyyyyy" from her room. As I was nursing the littlest, I was in no hurry to get up. She wasn't crying or sending me any urgent messages. So when I wrapped up the burping of number three and entered her room mere minutes later, I was shocked--SHOCKED--to find her crib yet again covered in poop. This happened a year or so ago when she took off a poopy diaper after a nap and played with it a little. But today was something new. I guess she felt the urge to poop, but rather than call for me and ask to go potty, she disrobed, removed her diaper, and squatted and pooped on. the. book. THE BOOK! We are a family of readers! This is downright blasphemous! Pooping on a book? And then, she evidently used her pants to wipe her bottom. Yum. And when I shared this news with her father, it went something like this:

Me: Ella pooped on a book.
Scott: *sigh* Everyone's a critic.

Nice. And that, dear future teachers of my children, is why they will not know the story of The Jungle Book.