Seeing is knowing . . . usually

It’s a good thing I had my eyes in when I came upon Bosco this morning. Those contacts of mine are always helping me decipher stickers from unsightly rashes, spiders from sock lint, and poop from guacamole.

The Husband, on the other hand, does not wear his corrective lenses as often as he should. So once, when he was cleaning up the then baby Bosco after a relatively messy meal, the Husband got guacamole on his finger and decided to just lick it up. I understand this. Guac is a treasure not to be wasted. I probably would have done the same thing, only not this time. Because I would have been able to immediately tell it was actually poop, which had escaped our little one’s diaper (No the Husband didn’t actually eat it. Close though. So close. He wised up before it touched tongue. Luckily. Or I would ne’er kiss the man again). Experiences like this make me so very grateful that I can and do stick thin circular disks of sight into my eyeballs.

And while we’re on the subject of seeing clearly, I have an update for those anxiously awaiting news on the carcass in my neighbor’s yard. Well I finally have information, I think. Alas, it is not a carcass, but some ornamental, hieroglyphic urn . . . with nothing in it. You could probably fit a swine carcass in it though.

So I’m still a little confused as to what it's actual purpose is, but at least it’s upright now and not plopped down in the front yard anymore. My spectacular view has been restored.

Do you know how close I had to get to the neighbor’s front door to get this picture? Let’s just say I took Bosco with me so I could pretend to be telling him to get out of the neighbor’s yard, in case someone came home. I didn’t have an explanation ready as to why I had a camera though. Good thing we came and went undetected, I think.