Do Skunks Pee on Food?

These are the kinds of questions it is handy to have an answer for when you become a mother. Nobody tells you you'll be needing this information. I believe, if investigated, we would find enough knowledge tucked away in the folds of a mother's brain between-- "Mom, why do they call it 'Good Friday' shouldn't they call it Bad Friday?"  and  "Mom, could there ever be another color?"-- that  it could qualify all moms for an honorary doctorate. Sadly, only their kids are privy to this information because only their kids ask.  But we have our own reward, because as every mom knows, if you get to the origin of the question you'll hit pay dirt.
Case in point--  "Do Skunks Pee on Food?"


Here is what it looks like when a skunk has not rooted up your yard for grubs:

Here is what it looks like when a skunk has rooted up your yard for grubs:

We know it was a skunk doing the rooting because last year we saw him making his nightly rounds rooting up our neighbors' yards.   He never visited our yard and that is how I knew we didn't have grubs, information that served me well in negotiating a price on our yard service.  I felt smug about this until yesterday.

 Here is what it looks like when Sawyer decides to have a picnic on our driveway.

And here is the conversation that proceeded the picnic:

"Mom, do skunks pee on food?"

sproinging sound of brain leaving current task of business on computer
Rolodex in brain spinning wildly-- skunk-- food-- pee-- computing outcome...

"No."

He is obviously relieved as he replies, "Whew, good" and then continues with just a hint of self-importance as if informing me of something I didn't know, "because if they did,  and I ate it,  you would have to give me a potato bath!"
He turns to leave with an aren't-you-glad look.  And I try not to laugh because I know he is really referring to the old remedy of taking a tomato juice bath to remove skunk odor.  Tomato, potato, it's all good.

He's happy with the results of his inquiry.  

But just in case, there's an ample supply of potatoes on hand.

Here is what Tristan had for his picnic.

Ten pound sack ought to be enough to cover both.