Get your squeak on

The squeaky wheel gets the grease, lie down with dogs get up with fleas, the cows always come home, one bad apple spoils the bunch. The longer I am on this earth the more of these sayings have been proved to me to be true.
I went on the much dreaded camping trip this weekend, but not before I got to squeaking. Brad might not have called it squeaking so much as all out bitching. Bitching/squeaking, what ever you call it, it worked. I did not have to go endure two days of hot sweaty boredom. We "discussed" the poor planning of the trip until an executive decision was made. I must give Brad all the credit, he picked a very nice campground in lieu of the crappy one with the great fishing. He selected a kid friendly, activity heavy, campground that unfortunately offered only worm drowning instead of real fishing. But his sacrifice was much appreciated and we all had such a good time swimming, biking, and playing on the playground.
Lil Monster made one appearance last weekend, but only a brief one. He reared his horned head when we insisted Turner get out of the pool. Lil Monster thought it best to remain in the water til the year 2011, but Brad is bigger and stronger than all monsters.
Making her debut this weekend was Tate's alter-ego: Princess Projectile Poopoo, or Princess Poo to her friends. I have never met a baby who could blow through a diaper like my daughter can. She is dangerous like no other. She lures her victims in with cherubic good looks and the smell of baby powder. Then when someone unsuspecting is holding her she lets out a grunt and steaming yellow crap sprays in all directions. She loves to ruin clothes, but that is almost too easy of a target. I swear she smiles every time she shits up her new car seat. It's hard to say that a two months old has a maniacal smile, but Princess Poo does. She watches me struggle to take apart the car seat yet again to wash it, and smiles a triumphant smile.
The upside of having Princess Poo around the house is her ability to stop Lil Monster in his tracks. What Monster can go about his monstering when there is a craptastic shit spectacle right in his own house? So Lil Monster, Princess Poo, Clyde and I, Queen Bitch f the Universe, managed to have a really good time together this past weekend. I guess we are kind of like our own little Justice League. Instead of Superman and his crew we have Clyde- the amazing snoring gorilla of a man, Lil Monster who's able to destroy even the strongest opponent with his fit throwing abilities, Princess Projectile Poopoo who smothers her adversaries in toxic yellow slime, and me, Queen Bitch, whose talents lie in being able to spot a bad time and prevent the atrocity from happening. We all have our talents, odd though they may be. We seem to compliment each other and manage to make up a pretty nice, if very strange, little family.