The poop chronicles

Maybe put down that snack.

Still with me? Last night, I got a rare phone call from the babysitter. Freaked out, I shoved my way out of the restaurant, fearing contusions and hospital visits, only to hear that my cat pooped.  "Only", because it's better than injured children. That crappin' cat pooped all over the rug, my preschooler stepped in it TWICE and tracked it throughout the house.

OK, we resumed Date Night plus a stop at the grocery store for rug cleaner.

Then my sudden attack of food poisoning that lands me in the powder room half the night and then, the morning begins with the aforementioned preschooler not at all confining his bathroom visit to the toilet.

And the cherry on this sundae, ewwww, is that diaper changes have now become wrestling matches with chances of poop containment reduced to 50/50 odds.

It's been 14 hours from the start of all this shit. (Pun and it stays.)

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