Preston Poo - Part Doo

Last night Preston was reading my blog (my only known reader so far - and he even reads without me asking him to!). He mentioned to me that he especially likes the parts that are about him. In fact, he has admitted to opening the blog and ctrl-fing his name. Apparently he even has no objections to the Preston Poo post (evidenced by his lack of freaking out about it), and that is saying something.

So, babe, this post's for you!

I had forgotten in the Big Bend antics about this follow-up to that particular post.

When we were down in Del Rio we downloaded these really cool pics of the jail in Gonzales to my laptop so we could play with them in Picasa and see how awesome the D-40X was. What came with those awesome pics? Oh yeah. Pics of Preston's Poo. I shit you not.

Preston was so excited about the new Nikon that I checked a book on digital photography out from the library (after all, I work in one) for him. Preston only reads when he is on the poo pot. So I gather that he had just read about some really cool setting that he wanted to try out with the camera (which of course had gone into the bathroom with him so he could play with it while reading about it). For lack of a better subject, he then photographed his poo. Now I can vaguely understand the occurances up to this point. Sort of. I still think I'd have photographed the books on the back of the toilet, or the soap dish on the sink, or the sink faucet, or something other than poo, but I can vaguely see how if you are a boy it might go the way of poo. What I can't understand is that *He didn't delete the photo*. I'm pretty sure that if I ever ever photographed my own shit, I'd delete the photo. You know, 'cause someone might see it.

So, I've now seen Preston's poo. I've now seen human poo that isn't mine. Not in person, and while I'm sure the picture didn't do the smell justice, we'll try to keep it that way.

And I still married him.

Hope I'm still married to him after this post.