Being buried alive (well, for now anyway) in cat poop might be a fate worse than death for some, but remember, the one doing the scooping and dumping is a necromancer, so death isn't really much of a lousy fate in his book. More of an occupational hazard.
I'm not sure what that says about the life expectancy of our little (currently quite fragrant) light blue apprentice figure, but let's not dwell on the more morbid elements of potential futures, shall we?
On the lighter side of things, "Scoop - Dump" is a game my little 19-month-old daughter likes to play with coffee beans. Ever since I let her smell coffee beans she insists on smelling them in the morning when I make coffee, and she helps me grind them up by scooping them out of one bowl and into another.
I usually wind up hunting around for coffee beans a lot, she's currently more of a "well-meaning chaos engine" than dextrous, exactly.
And our livingroom looks like it has a small rabbit-poop problem.
Coffee beans really do look like droppings.
Yes, thank you, I do write about poop alot. She's not out of diapers yet, so my life is a currently-never-ending series of poop jokes and references.
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