What Is A Turd?

Ok, I am here with my kiddos in sunny Colorado, for an extended stay, really enjoying myself. Well, sis and I made a rash decision to gather up this herd of kids and go "out" today. Oi. Seems like we got into the car about 10:00 a.m., not bad for 2 moms vs. 5 kids. We went multiple places, and all in all, the kids were great, you know, trailing along behind us dragging their fingers across everything in their path. It was good.

Towards the end of this adventure, the melt down had begun with the littlest one, so there was a feeling of frenzy to get back to home base. Lo and behold, there was a train, parked, or nearly parked across the "short cut" to get back to the house. So we do a U and zoom down to the nearest crossing, and we have about 30 seconds to cross the tracks, but this car in front of us seemed rooted to the spot. The cacophony of screams whines and cries was nearing a crescendo when Sis says, "WHY WON'T SHE MOVE??" and I say, "Because she's a TURD!!" The following exchange could be heard above the din between Abby and her cousin:
Abby: "Hee hee, did you hear my mom say 'turd?'"
Eden: "What is a turd?"
Abby: "It's a tiny green slimy thing that comes out of a frog's butt. At least that's what my Uncy Duncy says. Personally, I think it's just little pooplets."

Alas, all of the young innocent children in the minivan are now somewhat versed in the "ins and outs" of life. Bwah.