Saturday while I was at work, Jordan took Suzi and Phibby for a walk around the neighborhood. We'd purchased some special bags at Petsmart just in case Phibby pooped in one of the neighbor's yards, and he thought about finding them before he left. After a few seconds he thought, nah, she won't go, and if she does it'll probably be on one of the empty lots. So off they went. It wasn't until they'd walked for nearly ten minutes to almost the furthest spot in the neighborhood from our house that Phibby decided to unload. In the middle of the road.
Jordan looked around nervously, imagining three or four pairs of eyes boring into him from the windows of the nearby houses. Most of our neighbors are retired couples who spend their days at home. What's more, most of them keep their cars in garages, and if you roll through dog poop it's best to leave it out in the open air. He turned and began the walk of shame back to our house, pulling Suzi behind him in her red wagon.
Most people would've left it at that, but not my Jordan! He left Phibby in the house and drove in the car back over to the scene of the incident with Suzi in her car seat, inside-out plastic baggie at the ready. After picking up the poop, he drove it back over to our house to dispose of it properly.
Lucky that wasn't me. But I am proud of him.