Back in the spring of 1961, when David was around eighteen months old, we had a big dog that slipped into the house quite often, sometimes with some help from the boys here. One day we came home to find him in the house when we returned from town. The older 7 children were in school, so David and I were the only ones here. Being very pregnant and tired, I sat down in the chair to read the daily paper. I kept hearing a bumping sound over and over and only wondered what David was playing with.
After a long time of hearing the bumping sound, David appeared at the hall door wearing the biggest grin you ever saw. In his broken speech, he muttered something that sounded like "dog". After a bit of chatter from him, and the delighted look on his face, he lifted his foot and pointed to the soles of his shoes with an even wider grin. I could see something stuck to them. I decided I had better check it out. I followed him to the bedroom. I was aghast at what I saw. He had literally stomped a pile of dog doo doo on the hardwood floor as thin as he could, to about a large pizza sized circle.
I tried to use toilet paper to wipe it up to no avail, then I tried rags and as a last resort I decided to use my egg turner. I got down on my hands and knees to clean the floor, and as I scooped and scooped, I got more and more nauseous and started gagging and had to quit the procedure for minutes at a time. The doo was as sticky as glue and the smell was almost more than I could handle. I griped at the bewildered boy who understood nothing of what I was trying to convey to him. I finally got the job done, sterilized the floor and trashed the egg turner......
Oh yes, I did salvage the shoes.