You may be wondering why I am sitting here at eleven in the morning with wet hair and sweatpants on. You may be wondering why we are taking such a long break from our morning schoolwork, why the whole house smells like bleach, why the breakfast dishes are still dirty, and why I’m doing laundry on a non-laundry day.
Well. Let me tell you.
Once upon a time, on a Tuesday, my children were exceptionally cranky. So I told them no alarms in the morning. Sleep in on Wednesday. So they did. Of course, by the time everyone was sitting down to breakfast it was getting kind of late. Late enough that I decided to leave the breakfast dishes and wash them up while the kids were doing independent work. This was a brilliant plan.
Another result of the sleeping in was that my husband was in the shower when my daughter woke up this morning. Why should this matter? Oh, it does. You see, she had to go potty very badly when she got up. But her dad was in the shower and had the bathroom door locked. So she ran down to the downstairs bathroom and relieved herself, not in the toilet, but in her little pink potty chair.
This is relevant.
Around 10:30 this morning I left the boys to the joys of math worksheets and handwriting practice and came down to clean up the kitchen. Squeezy followed me, as she always does, all around the house, every day, wherever I go, whether I want company or not . . .
That last bit wasn’t really relevant.
I was rinsing cereal bowls when I heard “Mommy! I went poop!” Squeezy isn’t so good at cleaning herself up yet, so I went to help her out, and in so doing, I went to my doom. See, nobody had even been in that bathroom since Squeezy had put her highly concentrated morning tinkle in her little potty. So it hadn’t been emptied before she had done her business. The translation of this is that it was very full, and significantly grosser than usual.
Which means that, when I went to empty it into the toilet and dropped it, and when it bounced off the toilet seat, the bathroom and all its contents were sprayed with– well, you get the idea. And I was, as it were, in the front row to this little disaster.
Which is why I am freshly showered and wearing the only pair of clean pants I could find, my yellow sweatpants, and why my bathroom smells like bleach, and why my dishes still aren’t washed, and, most importantly, why I am about to go snitch a couple of those little Snickers bars from the trick-or-treat candy. Some things just require chocolate. LOTS of chocolate.
So. How’s YOUR day?