Well That's Shitty

Disclaimer: The following is all about poo.  You've been warned.

I deal with a lot of shit in my line of work.  Not in the traditional sense, as in, my boss is a jerk and impossible deadlines and stuff like that, but in the literal sense.  Cleaning up poo is a multiple-time-a-day undertaking for me. 

Thing 2 poops about four times a day still. Probably due to the amount of fruit and veg she eats.  Thankfully Thing 1 is toilet-trained now, although he hasn't really mastered the whole wiping thing yet, so that's still on my docket.  We have two good-sized retrievers and one small yard. This means daily stoop and scooping as nothing is worse than scraping dog doo out of a tiny kids shoe tread. Not to mention Thing 2 would probably pick it up if I let her.  More on that later. And lastly, the damn cat requires her majesty's sand throne be cleaned on the daily or she threatens to find other elimination quarters. 

In case you lost count, that's crap from five other beings, not including my own.  Good thing my wife is self-sufficient in these matters.

So Thing 2 has developed a bizarre fascination with poo.  If she finds one out in the yard, she crouches down really close to inspect it.  She'll pull a stool up in front of you when you're on the can. And most disturbing of all, she demands to see the contents of her poopy diaper after each change. How weird is that?  I sure hope that's a passing phase.

So let me tell you about the shittiest afternoon I've ever had.  Back in January, three weeks into Thing 1's potty-training, the kids and I venture out  to the library. Within 10 minutes of getting here, I notice Thing 2 smells a bit ripe.  As I take her into the bathroom (which mercifully had a change table), I discover that the diaper has not fulfilled its duty of holding in the contents* . I then quickly discover that I have a total of 4 baby wipes remaining in the diaper bag. This is at least a 6 wiper.  Efficiency is of the utmost importance.

Thing 1 then drops a bombshell on me.  The bomb being in his pants,  in a mostly liquefied form, and it's running down his leg.  Thank the good people at the library for having the facility well stocked with brown paper towel.

Outing over.

 

As we head in the front door to head up to the bath, we're greeted by Dog #1 who apparently rolled in some other animal's shit undetected before we left for the library.  Not only does he need a bath now as well, but I have to wash whatever he was laying on.

You'd have to clean Porta Potties for a living to top this afternoon.

So the next time you think you're having a figuratively shitty day, just remember, I'm probably having a literal one.

*Check out my  Cottage post for a similar diaper-related mishap: http://mysahdexistence.blogspot.ca/2016/08/the-cottage.html