This morning I was rushing in a towel from the bathroom to the kitchen to grab my coffee to the guest bedroom/my dressing room when.... "What the hell?!?!"
I stepped in a tiny, pea sized soft matter. It squished between my toes and I instinctively pulled up my foot and shoved my fingers to feel what it was, looked at my fingers to see it was brown, and then of course had to do the sniff test. What the???? Poop? In the hallway? I screamed.
Matt came running as I gagged and wildly looked around for the rest of it, as this was a pretty small piece of what I could only imagine was a bigger problem. Whose could it be? W had a nasty diaper this morning that I vividly remember changing, but it stayed contained. Howie! Matt grabbed him and did a thorough search, coming up with nothing. Nothing between the paws, nothing stuck to the tail. I washed my foot and hand, so I could inspect the floor. Again, nothing. No sign of where poop may have previously been hiding. A bunch of nothing.
Matt had one foot out the door to catch the train. I had about 10 more minutes to blow dry my hair before the Grannanny showed to give me a lift to the train. So, I was left with only one option: Lock myself (and the boy) in the bathroom for some hair drying. There was no time for me to wash down the floors. In retrospect, I probably could have been late for work, but it just didn't seem like a real option. "Oh, sorry I'm late, I was searching for invisible, mystery poop."
Lucky, lucky us... The floors were wiped down by the best mom in the world (not me, my own) during W's morning nap. So, now we just live in wonder and fear of when the poop will strike again... And whose poop it was anyway.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment