so, where was I? oh yes, how could I forget.
after opening the door to Hannah and Jake's bedroom and surveying the scene in front of me, I nearly had a coronary right on the spot. and if the heart attack didn't finish me off, the stench that saturated the room surely would have. Eu-reek-a!
while I was busy yakking on the phone, both Hannah and Jake had gone number two in their diapers. and then, without consulting me first, they decided to finger paint the entire room with that fecal matter. the title of their masterpiece: Brown Spots on the Wall, by Who Flung Dung. or maybe it was Brown Spots on the Rug, by I Squat and Dunnit. I can't remember.
oh my goodness you guys, they had smeared poop ev-er-y-where.
from as high as they could reach on down, there were brown streaks on the walls, on the trim, on the door, all over the carpet, on the bed, on the crib-- which happened to be the Jenny Lind style, you know, the kind of crib that has those cutesy, knobby slats and such?-- yeah. there was dried poop encrusted in between every. single. knobby thing and oh! it was like a scene out of a Stephen King novel, except instead of blood, it was poop. the apoopcalypse.
but that's not all! it was on the crib sheets and the mattress and the closet and the door jam and the toys and then. THEN. through the steady stream of smoke that was pouring out of my ears, I glimpsed two naked figures jumping up and down on the bed whom I assumed were Hannah and Jake, only they were so covered in POOP, I scarcely recognized them. to gross it up even more, I think, I mean I'm pretty sure, they had eaten some (poop) because there were brown smudges around their mouths.
SICK, SICK, SICKKKKK! I almost tossed my cookies right then and there.
overwhelmed, not knowing where to even begin, I raced to the phone and dialed up Gary at work. before he could even squeak out a "hello," I half sobbed, half screeched into the phone, "you have to come home, like RIGHT NOW! there's crap everywhere and I don't know what to do!" although I think I might've used something more vulgar than the word crap. gulp.
"what do you mean by 'crap?'" he asks.
"as in that brown, stinky stuff that comes out of your rear end, DUH! it's all over the kids and their bedroom and oh my gosh." and then I went on to relate the above situation to him. "please," I pleaded. "you have to help me."
silence. (I think he was too shocked to say anything.)
"pleeease!" I pressed. "this is a two-man job. plus, these crazy kids are just as much yours as they are mine."
"how am I going to explain this to my boss?"
"I'm sure you'll think of something great. tell him an emergency situation came up and you, um, gotta go."
"oh boy. okay. so, uh, apparently I should pick up a shampooer on my way home?"
anyway, long story short, after hanging up with Gary, I threw Hannah and Jake in the tub and scrubbed the crap out of them. after Gary arrived home, the two of us teamed up and together we scoured the entire room. right after we duct taped Hannah and Jake's diapers shut and tied them to the bed post. what a nightmare!
this is exactly why you should never ignore laughing kids.
oh, and yeah. that KA-WHUMP! noise I heard? while I was concentrating on writing a blog post, Rowan and Scarlett had snuck a couple apples out of the fridge and were throwing them against the wall in the boys' bedroom. KA-WHUMP! HAHAHAhaahah!
I will survive these days, I will survive these days, I will...
PS. a few pictures from the park.
|"The world is a playground, and life is pushing my swing." --Natalie Kocsis|
|"ring around the rosie..."|
|my Rowan, what big blue eyes you have!|