Happy Bunco Night, Mommy, Hope You Like Crap!

Happy Bunco Day Mommy, Hope You Like CRAP! Current mood: dirty
True Story. "Hey Vivien, come over here...what did you get on yourself?" I asked my little one as she teetered over to me with a small brown smudge on her dress. Thinking it was some leftover cheerios from this morning's delicious and nutritious breakfast, I took my fingernail and rubbed at the stain. But to my horror, it was neither delicious OR nutricious, nor was it cheerios. It was poo. Now I had to figure out where the poo came from. Did she stick her hand in her pants? No poo there. Did she get into the litter box? No, she would have had to pass me in the kitchen to get to the laundry room where said boxes are kept. As if trapped by time, I began the trek to my bedroom, arms flailing as my mouth formed "NOOOOOO" with the low, gutteral register of slow motion. But it was too late. A pair of poopy underpants lay on the floor on TOP of the clean shorts I had laid out for myself (now also containing some turd remnants). Max was in on the potty reading his book. And yes, there was even more poo in the potty. How can a 3 year old generate so much dung? The world may never know. At least he made it to the potty for the worst of it, and for that I am grateful.
So it's not even noon yet and both kids are in their second sets of clothes. Max got a "whore's bath" in the tub while Vivien walked around topless. Somebody, take a picture, would ya? No one understands the nitty-gritty, down and dirty, excrement filled existance of the Stay At Home Superwoman.
By the by, tonight is the night we play Bunco and I was greeted by a lovely morning phone call from my adoring and adorable husband..."Happy Bunco Day, Mommy!" If only he his Magic 8 Ball was turned on...he could have added "Hope You Like Crap!!!"