I was just outside with Georgia and Brooklyn. While Brooklyn was pooping, in 3 different places because the wind changed its direction or she heard some noise or whatever, I realized something.

It occurred to me that I was standing as if I froze in the middle of walking, one foot in front, and I was also holding my breath. Then I realized that whenever Brooklyn assumes the position, I stop in my tracks, not move a muscle trying not to blink and sometimes hold my breath until she comes out of her pooping stance. Not only that, when she strains for a long time to push that very last teeny piece of turd out, I even make a straining face, intensely staring at her butt. Yes, this is how badly I want Brooklyn to poop. It has been a rough summer for both of us with all that rain.