Does this look like a kid who would crap on your floor?

I was all set to make mid-morning pancakes today when my youngest tore off his diaper and crapped in the slate entryway. Yes, on the floor.

I was alerted to the situation when I heard "Go! Go!", JB's usual primal privacy call (accompanied by frantic hand waving which signals to all who pass that they should pass quickly and not make eye contact).

There he stood, brown nuggets scattered on the floor and a panicked look on his face. Well, that was just the start of my day. Whoooohoooo T.G.I.F. my ass! (As every parent knows, Friday is simply the start of 48 hours without regularly scheduled activities. This means YOU have to think of stuff to do with your kids.)

The rest of the day (so far) has included a trip to the Apple store in PA to fix my unbroken MacBook. The "Genius" at the Genius Bar clearly enjoyed telling me absolutely nothing was wrong with the computer that multiple engineers could not get to connect to the Internet last night. He had to especially enjoy delivering this news after having watched my two hooligans repeatedly yell at the kids' only computer screen when the Dora game didn't move along fast enough for their liking.

One fun thing we did during our hour-long wait was to walk down the street to get coffee at Cafe Del Doge. Here's a coffee house that actually originated in Venice and succeeds in briefly transporting you to Italy when you walk through the door. I needed some Italia right then.

I did not need Dubs to scream "I WANT A MOCHA!" over and over as we waited in line amidst the distinguished looking gentlemen who flanked us. But even he stopped for a moment, looked around and said "What smells so GOOD?" right before his brother gave him a quick but vicious shove that knocked his new hot chocolate all over my new ultra comfy suede Merrills.

At least my shoes are brown.