confession time

Since the subject of the day seems to be rocks
I will forthwith here and now maketh my confession.

When I was but a wee lass I coveted rocks.
I liked shiny ones and sparkly ones and smooth ones and interesting ones.
I liked to collect them and bring them ihome.
I believe I had a special hiding place but cannot, at this point, remember where it was.
Once I amassed quite a collection of the typical findings
I would spend time going out hither and yon to find more and more interesting rocks.

One day I found a particularly interesting rock.
An odd shape to be sure and I believe I pocketed it for further inspection when I got home.
The aforementioned specimen was forgotten until my mother was preparing to do the laundry.
She would go thorough pockets checking for the forgotten rocks that I had brought home.
This is a good idea when you do not want to ruin your washing machine.
But on this day she ended up being less than happy about what she discovered and
she had serious doubts about my proclivity for collecting.
For when she removed my treasure she discovered that it was soft.
Now one does not often find a rock that is soft.
And I hadn't.

I will hereby confess.
What I had scooped up as a treasure was -
you may have guessed it -
dog poop.

Sorry mom.