READER BEWARE: do not read if you are easily offended or have a strong gag reflex to disgusting stories.
Yesterday was a phenomenon. I never knew there could be so much poop catastrophes. It started out with me kicking some of Gus's poop down our dark hallway as I stumbled to Miles bedroom at 4am to give him some medicine for his cough. Then in the early morning as I was poop scoopin' our patio Gus decided to lay a fresh one right next to my foot. He failed to mention it to me and I stepped into it with my BARE feet. Gross AND disgusting (and remarkable, right Teisha?) you say? Well it gets worse. So as I stumble to the tub to wash off my feet Gus decides to finish his poop job in the house. So now I'm trying to wash my fecal infested feet off, all the while trying to watch my children and keep Miles from playing in Gus's new poop in our house. FAIL. Of course Miles has to pick up some of his poop because I asked him not to and bring it to me in the bathroom. Okay so now we're cleaning off Miles' hands, my feet, bleaching the tub, and shampooing our carpets with pet cleaner. I can't stand the thought of my kids crawling around on the floor where Gus has done his deed.
So you can imagine my relief as I put both my boys down in the afternoon for their nap. I needed a break to breath and to further disinfect the kids' bathroom with lysol wipes. Well, that didn't last long. Miles woke up from his nap earlier than normal (like an hour and half earlier) so I decided to just let him have some quiet time in his room by himself so I could gather myself and recharge my batteries for the evening. WRONG IDEA! I should have known better. As I went to get Miles in his bedroom after his "quiet time" I was immediately killed over with the stench that waffed through the door. Then as I looked even closer at him I noticed dark brown stuff everywhere. At first I was thinking he went to bed with chocolate, but NO it was poop. POOP EVERYWHERE! In his hand, under his fingernails, all over his body, in his mouth & hair, all over the bed and sheets. I didn't know he could produce so much. The next hour is a big smeary blurr (pun intended). I raced him into the tub once again, thoroughly rinsed him off and then jumped in the shower myself and rinsed me off. All the while Graham is still sleeping. Then I decided to lock Miles in the playroom while I picked up his bedroom. At this point I about tossed my cookies. I almost didn't want to use our washing machine to clean up his bedding. What if our washer is never as clean again? After a few loads of crap coated blankets and running the washer with nothing but water and bleach I felt much better.
I was sure my stink-bug (pun intended again) child was going to wake up this morning with a bout of e. coli or giardia, but he seems unphased. I, however, am scarred for life. This "crappy" day will go down in the books as "the day of the poop". I know "sh*t happens", but really did it have to happen so much yesterday?
I will spare you pictures of the real thing, but it looked a bit like this.