Do you find yourself wondering if you are ready to be a parent? If you read this blog, in all likelyhood you have already reproduced, but I'm sure there are exceptions to this rule. Regardless, if you read the following anecdote, and you find it anything other than completely reasonable, then you are probably not ready for parenthood. Because no event in my life has more perfectly encapsulated the very essence of raising kids than this one. Over the last couple of weeks, Skeletor has been having...poop issues. Yeah, I know. TMI. Whatever. We've all been there. Point being, is that the aforementioned feces (baby mice!) were colored in such a way as to freak us out. And, keep in mind, I'm a mother and a grown-ass woman, so green poop doesn't scare me. Anyhoozle, the Captain and I were being all eagle eyed and such about the boy's trips to the bathroom. We also had long, detailed conversations about them. We were right on the verge of taking him to the doctor, where there would have been bloodwork done and traumas endured, when the Chalky Menace finally ended. While I was at work on Saturday night, Skeletor had a poop so lovely and normal looking that Captain Gingerbeard was inspired to take a picture of it for me. When I got home that night, I was greeted with the digital image of my son's leavings. And, after marveling with relief at the utter typical-ness of the poo, I began to laugh my ass off. Because, as I mentioned earlier, I can't think of a more perfect analogy for parenting than taking a picture of your child's poop.