Upon returning home from my Saturday am ride, my wife promptly informed me, hands on the hips (men - you know what I mean), that "my daughter," that is my 2 year old daughter, had swallowed a penny, a dime or a quarter. My wife was not sure which one it was, but was sure it was one of them. While I still don't understand that, this occurrence was somehow my fault. I'm guessing it was because I was absent from the home.

The doctor told us that it was likley that the object would pass, but we should watch her carefully and inspect her stools. I was not convinced. How the hell was that thing going to make it through her tiny little digestive tract? I was imagining the MRI and the surgeon telling us that it would have to be surgically removed. I all could think about was the scars on her plump little belly.

Because it was my fault, I was assigned the task of inspecting the poop. It was horrible. The stench my little monster can put out it amazing . . . sticky little stuff too. Regardless, I have never been so excited for my daughter to shit.

Three days after the incident, and after shifting through three or four foul sticky poops, I found my prize amongst some partially digested lima beans. There it was, a beautiful shiny little late model penny.

Holy shit and thank God!