So tired of this crap

Please forgive my salty language.  But there really is no other way to express my utter disgust.  Nearly every morning when we finally venture out of the cool bedrooms and head to the living room, I open the outside doors to test the humidity.  If it is cooler outside than inside, which it often is not, I open the doors around the house to bring in a cross breeze.  I will let the girls wander around the patio, riding their bikes and other sitting and riding toys while I open shutters and assess the state of the garden. 

The garden always looks gorgeous.  There might be hummingbirds or monkeys or new blooming flowers,  Fallen limes or a chain of butterflies chasing each other.  A beautiful sight for tired morning eyes.  And then, on the patio, there is this.

The wretched toads that offer no promise of turning into princes have left hideous, putrid smelling gifts all over the patio.  Gifts which, as I am the only person capable of cleaning in the house it appears, I am meant to clean before Virginie walks right into it or tries to pick it up.  Paradise?  Yeah...and it's full of shit.

I know these freaks are not only found in Barbados.  My father told me that he'd once accused his neighbor of letting his dog freely relieve himself on my parents' driveway, only to discover that the toads in Florida too defecate all over walkways and other spaces.  Yeah, I know, nature and all that.  It's beautiful.  It is.  Next time you are marveling at the gorgeous views and photos of the sea in Barbados, think of me, yellow-gloved, armed with paper towels and disinfectant spray, scooping the never-to-be-princes' turds.


(c) Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle