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I have a feeling it's going to be a shitty day...

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

I woke up this morning around 7:00 am with my youngest doing flips on my midsection (damn that wrestling he watches, he even "counted" me out!) So, I gathered the babe, trudged into the living room, grabbed pillow and blankey, made sure gates were in place and turned on some educational morning cartoons. The next thing I know, (I must have dozed off, how could I?) anyway, the next thing I hear are screams of terror from both of the other offspring, "Nathan poopie-doopied, Nathan poopie-doopied, and momma, he's PLAYING with it!!" I then noticed the very strong fecal scent surrounding me. Yes, my darling cherub had already visited the altar of mommy, and in true giving fashion had laid his offering of 4 to 5 smallish sized poop balls in honor of his mother, the goddess. I immediately went into professional emergency attention mode. "CODE POO, CODE POO, WIPES STAT!!" I, being the professional that I am, gathered the dung offerings laid upon me by my lastborn and threw them in the nearest toilet. All the while, Nicklaus, ever the panicked one, is running around screaming, "Wipes, wipes, where are the wipes? We have an emergency poo situation!!" Noni, the 3 year old consummate professional, runs to the diaper bag, employing the alternate plan in case of emergency, and says, "We have wipes in here!" and runs to deliver them to me. I am, at this time, not just sitting on my lazy arse, I am holding Nater-Tater's hands, he's decided it may just be a culinary delight to sample some of his manufactured solid product. Well, I get the oldest boy, to do the least stressful job, he is in charge of running bathwater and waiting in the tub for the soiled child. I wipe up as best as I can, deposit the baby in the bathwater, gather the diaper to take to the outside waste receptacle, and on my way out? Yep, I step right on top of one of my blessed baby boy's offerings to me, now a squashed brown spot on my heel. So, I am writing this after thoroughly vacuuming, spraying and disinfecting my living room & the people in it to remove all traces of my youngest's first offering at the altar of mommy. Damn, when will they learn, chocolate, money, even libations are welcome, shit is seriously frowned upon as a way to pay tribute to the Queen?