Home Stinky Home


We're back in Fort Collins and settled in! Our clothes are hanging in a closet, our belongings are in drawers, and our dog remembered us! I love that little sweet thing, but he's definitely been spoiled by everyone here. Eating people food, lounging on couches and beds--stuff that never would have flown when we lived in Provo! But he's a well-behaved dog so I can't complain too much. Brock and I joke that we're going to name our first son Mojo Jr. JOKE'S ON YOU, EVERYBODY! WE'RE SERIOUS.

I do have one complaint about living in the basement, however. You see, the basement is Caden and Connor's domain (my nine- and seven-year old brothers). It always looks like someone threw a grenade in the toy closet, but I don't mind that because to me it's a sign that they're engaged in creative play--puzzles, Legos, forts, Pokemon drawings, crafts, you name it. I'd much rather live in a messy basement like this than in a clean basement with the TV on 24/7. (Plus, Caden and Connor are good about cleaning up when you ask them to.)

The thing about them ruling the basement is they also rule the basement's bathroom. Now, a little splatter on the toilet seat is to be expected from any member of the male species, be he seven years old or twenty-seven years old. What shouldn't be expected--ever--are unflushed turds in the toilet.

Bless Connor's heart: He's apparently so anxious to get back to creative play that he neglects to send his bodily deposits--fluid or otherwise--on their merry way down the septic tank. It might be a cute idiosyncrasy if it didn't happen two or three times a day.

But it does.


  1. hahaha. you can come read that book in our bathroom if you want. :)


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