Friday, January 31, 2014

Maybe the Dog Did It?

The problem with being a blogger is that everything that happens each day is evaluated to ascertain if it is blog-worthy.  Is it appropriate?  It is interesting?  Do I have a photo that could accompany it?  Is it even my story to tell?  Will it come back to haunt my children in ten years?

Case in Point:  I got back from running my son to preschool the other day and had a small window of time available to cross about fifteen things off my To-Do list before we had to run out the door again to go to the doctor.  I emptied the dishwasher and refilled it, emptied my coffee cup and refilled it, emptied the washing machine and refilled it, all while Thomas was enjoying the antics of a very curious monkey who was struggling to hit a pinata at a birthday party.  Yes, alert the Parenting Police.  I allowed my baby to be entertained by TV while I did chores.  Anyway, once all the essential cleaning jobs of the morning were completed, I sat down at the computer to try to finish the writing I was under a deadline to finish.  Time was of the essence and I was able to work right up until the very moment we had to leave.  I trotted off to the bathroom for a quick potty break before we started the process of leaving the house which I have taken to calling "The Epic Shoe Hunt."

When I walked into the bathroom, I was horrified to find that whatever little boy had taken care of business that morning had failed to flush the toilet and we're not talking just a little #1 action.  In fact, there was additional evidence smeared all over the seat in case I needed additional confirmation.  As I crossed the floor to flush away the evidence and start trying to erase that image from my memory, my bare feet were suddenly.....WET.  I looked down and sure enough, I had stepped in pee. 

So, to recap.  Standing in pee, staring at poop, a toddler behind me with his head cocked to the side and asking, "Mommy?  Where are you? What doing?"  The little voice in my head responded, "Trying to keep myself from screaming expletives," but I am proud to say that I did NOT in fact scream them.  I merely muttered them under my breath.  Not the same thing. 


I did not take a photo in this moment to share on the blog (you're welcome) nor did I even think it was interesting enough to even write about, but the best part came later when my severely frazzled self finally showed up to pick Micah up from preschool.   I asked him if he was the one who had made the mess in the bathroom that morning and he quickly denied it, blamed the dog and asked to listen to the Frozen soundtrack. 

Guess you just had to be there.  

And now I give you a completely unrelated photo of who I actually suspect was the Non-Flushing Poop Culprit:

If you've made it to the end of this post without rolling your eyes and grumbling, "Ugh.....she's blogging about poop again," I want to congratulate you while I simultaneously question your sanity.  It's a strange brew, folks.  Maybe someday I will be blogging about dinner parties or the proper etiquette to follow when asking a celebrity for their autograph, but today is not that day.

Hang in there with me for a while, ok?  I still have one more kid to potty train.

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