Bird Doo-Doo

The other day I am walking around Maumee Bay State Park with Joah and Caleb because I had to take Sam there for his cross country practice. Caleb and Joah are loving it and playing in the sand and chasing the sea gulls. They ran all over the beach and acted out a scene from Indiana Jones, so I am told. I have no idea which one, but apparently the one with lots of sand.

After a few minutes I realize that my two sons are rolling around in a giant "litter box" of sand and bird droppings. Caleb is covered in it and flinging handfuls around in joyful glee. I try to remain untraumatized by the fact that my germ-o-phobe tendencies are on red alert. I am unsuccessful and cannot keep it together anymore and start yelling at them to get up and quit flinging the poo!!!! They both look at me like, "What is she freaking out about now?" They saw nothing wrong with this situation. Then Caleb wants to hold my hand and I just CAN'T do it! "Uhmm...Caleb, honey, I would love to hold your hand, but you were just holding a pile of bird doo" and...well, if you know me you don't need further explanation. Where is the Purell?

I just KNOW if I had a daughter she would be braiding flower necklaces with me while we lay in the authorized and sanitary lounging area and find princess shaped clouds in the sky. I can only dream...