July 29, 2008 by Marj Hatzell
Ever have one of those days?
You know, THOSE days? I had one today.
It started out innocently enough. Bugaboo was up at night and ended up in bed with me, but he slept soundly. Except for a kick and a headbutt, he really didn’t bother me that much. Then I got Darling out of bed on time and he was out of the house before seven (the time he is supposed to leave and often wakes up instead). Bugaboo got up, took his meds with no problem, smiled and cuddled and got on the bus happy. Bug Boy and I took Shadow for a walk and came back to eat breakfast, dress and hang out. We did the food shopping, returned home and hung out more. Then I took him to a special lunch. Then we went shopping at a Goodwill store (sorry, can’t stay away. I find good stuff, y’all) and headed off to get Bugaboo. Then we took Bugaboo to therapy…
Sorry to bore you with the mundane details, but REALLY! It was a NORMAL, CASUAL, EASY day. I don’t get where it all went wrong! I mean, even on the way home from Bugaboo’s therapy, at FIVE O’CLOCK PEOPLE, I hit no traffic on I95! I mean, THAT NEVER HAPPENS!
And then we walked in the door at home. All heck broke loose. The end!
We walked in the door and I began dinner. Pasta Primavera! Easy, right? I mean, you boil pasta, saute some veggies and VOILA! Except the phone rang. It was the awesome pharmacist trying to sort out our meds for the trip so I’d have enough to take with us. I asked Bug Boy to close the doors upstairs to keep Bugaboo out while I cooked dinner and even heard him close the doors. Except I should have specified that he was to lock them. See, we have to keep all of the doors closed and locked (bathrooms and bedrooms) at all times in order to keep Bugaboo out of trouble. A few minutes later, Bugaboo was running in and out of the room. The third time he ran into the kitchen (and I had just chopped and added the rest of the veggies) I noticed no pants. And no diaper. And…yes, you’ve guessed correctly! POO! Down his legs! Hooray, he ain’t constipated! OH NO! WHERE’S THE DIAPER? I grabbed him under the arm pits, stuck him in the tub, scrubbed him down as quickly as I could and left him to go find the missing diaper. I found it in his room, breathed a sigh of relief and walked into my room to grab clean towels from the pile I had folded on my bed. That’s when I saw it. His clothes, stripped off, covered in poo. On my bed. Which was covered with poo. And my pillow. YUP! Covered in poo. Sigh. I stripped it all off, wrapped it in a large ball, threw it in the hall and checked on Bugaboo.
Then I smelled something funny. It wasn’t poo.
Dinner was now boiling over on the stove. I dashed downstairs, scrubbed my hands and turned the burners down and began salvaging our dinner. It was in decent shape, slightly unevenly cooked, I CAN DO THIS! NO PROBLEM! Then I remembered the water was still running in the tub so I sent Bug Boy to TURN OFF THE WATER! AND PUT A TOWEL AROUND THE TOILET (because there was now water dripping under the toilet and through my kitchen ceiling. Again.) and he actually listened and did it. THIS PARENTING STUFF WORKS! I ran back upstairs while the pasta finished boiling and the veggies finished cooking and noticed Bug Boy’s door open. Gulp. I hesitantly went towards his room and pushed the door open the rest of the way and…
You know what’s coming. DO I REALLY NEED TO TELL YOU? Except! This is different!
This was DOG POO! I can literally count on two fingers how many times in nine years my dog has had an accident in the house. I mean, TWICE! SERIOUSLY! TWO TIMES! Once when she had her spaying operation and once when her kidneys were failing, and those were VERY GOOD EXCUSES! And she has never, ever POO’D IN MY HOUSE! Except! Today she did! And she didn’t just poo. She must have been asleep on Bug Boy’s bed (a common place for her to spend her day, basking in the sunlight that streams through his window) and couldn’t get downstairs fast enough. Because it looks like she was attempting to jump off of the bed as she went, as it was THE RUNNY VARIETY and was smeared all over her his blanket, his pillow (ruined, soaked through) and on his rug. Sigh.
Now, I know some of y’all are saying, “DG! How do you know it was dog poo? I mean, Bugaboo had just gone all over your room! It could have been him!” Doods. When you’ve seen the amount of poo I have in my career, you know the difference between poos. And dog poo and Bugaboo poo have different smells, textures and colors. Yes, I notice these things. And dog poo? Smells ten times more pungent in your house than Bugaboo poo. Not that you care to know this. I’m just putting it out there so y’all are informed. Consider it a poo lesson. You can thank me later.
So. More poo. I grabbed the sheets, blankets and pillow, rolled it in a ball as best I could, chucked it in the hall and ran to get the stuff to clean the carpet. Bugaboo was still in the tub. I finished deodorizing the carpet, sprayed and wiped every surface I could and ran the poo-filled linens to the washer. I dashed back upstairs (did I mention that by now I was sweating to death? No? I was. And we have central air set on 72.) and the food was boiling over. Again. I turned it off, salvaged dinner again and realized I had once again forgotten about Bugaboo. Because I’m the best mommy in the world, I sent Bug Boy up to check on him. Bug Boy walked into the bathroom and screamed, “BUG-A-BOO! GETBACKINTHETUB!” And Bugaboo replied, “EEEEEEE! OOOOOOHHHHH!!” And Bug Boy said, “BUG-A-BOO! YOUARESCREAMINGTOOLOUD!!!!” And Bugaboo replied (louder), “EEEEEEE OOOOOOHHHHH!!!!” To which Bug Boy replied, “BUG-A-BOO! STOPITYOUAREHURTINGMYEARS!” To which Bugaboo replied…I think you get how it was going. Next thing I knew, Nekkid Bugaboo was slipping and sliding his way on the linoleum floor. I was still salvaging what was left of dinner. I handed the pull-up to Bug Boy and said, “Here. Dry him off and put this on him.” You know, because I’m the world’s best Mommy. And they both stopped screaming and looked at me like I have completely lost my mind.
And then Darling walked in the door. At that precise moment. And I lost my mind. THE END!
Except it wasn’t. I forgot I’m taking my kids and two of the neighbors’ kids to a local science museum tomorrow and had NO FOOD for lunch (it cost $40 for two people to eat there. Not really. Ok, maybe.) so I had to run out after dinner. I was drenched with sweat, couldn’t get the smell of poo out of my nose and had food splattered all over my clothing. We ate dinner, I ran out and…
Bought myself a flipping huge milkshake. The biggest one I could find. Better than alcohol, right? And once again, I’m writing about my dog and poo. At least I didn’t mention my backyard. Oops. Just did.
ETA: I don’t know if it was bad karma (like, when I poo’d in the neighbor’s bucket when I was 4 or went in my pants at kindergarten) but I had multiple dreams about poo last night. In the dreams, every time I walked into a room or building, I’d find poo. We were on vacation, I found poo. We went into a hotel room, I found poo. And so on and so on…and I woke up and it wasn’t a nightmare! Just a very strange dream indeed. Chocolate milkshakes make you dream some funky things, y’all.