Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Poop Chronicles, vol 6...

You never know when its going to happen. You never suspect that your time has come. You can never be prepared enough for when The Grossest Thing Ever to Happen, happens to you. Please, please...take my advice and, "Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the [Poop Fates] prowl around like a roaring lion looking for someone to [disgust]". *
Sunday started out a lovely, crisp autumn morning and we all enjoyed pulling out our longed-for Fall duds. Boys in corduroy, girls in sweaters and tights. I got the kids down for a nap and watched Devil Wears Prada whilst beginning the Great Seasonal Clothing Shift. Then the babies woke up and so I went down to get them from their cribs. And there I saw...
nothing, everything was fine. I was still an unsuspecting sap. I went down and got everyone a snack, checked Facebook and then smelled a smell. John not being home, I had no recourse but to deal with the offending party myself.
As I laid Cecilia down I felt a dampness through her skirt and realized that it was really quite a bummer that John wasn't home. I then came to the gruesome realization that she had had quite a blowout of unhealthy-looking excrement all the way down her tights and even into the feet of the tights. Darn Autumn! It would have been so much easier to clean up poo-on-skin then poo-on-skin-through-tights.
I checked my watch. Darn again...John wouldn't be home for two more hours. So I took a deep breath and girded my loins, prepared for battle of the nastiest kind.
Then it happened. The Grossest Thing Ever to Happen, happened to me (memory shudder). As I pulled down her tights I realized that this situation was worse then I thought because, in addition to the runnyness of the filth, it was also rather...well, I'm sorry but it was...chunky. I'm sorry, there's no other way to say it. As I was pulling down her tights I lost my grip on that darn stretchy, slippery fabric and it snapped back and splat against her leg, spraying my face with, well...need we say anymore?
And my mouth? Oh, yes, yes...open.
Sigh. So, please, please, learn from my mistakes, from my lack of alertness, from my lukewarmness. Because if your lukewarmness doesn't cause God to "spew you out of [his] mouth" then you could be the one doing the spewing. Stay alert and sober out there tonight, America. God be with you.

*Modern translation of 1st Peter 5:8, some words paraphrased.
**"So then because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth." Rev. 3:16

7 comments:

  1. oh dear. oh dear. That is definitely the worst poo incident I've heard.

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  2. Okay then there's me, innocently perusing my google reader after another delightful 7.30 am meeting at the office. And there it is, Poop Chronicles. And thinking it will be it's usual entertaining vingette of life at the Love Shack, I eagerly begin reading. And ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.... yeah, that one might be the grossest thing I've read (and pictured vividly with the smell in mind)... and that last part made me throw up a little in my mouth. thanks for that :)

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  3. The best (and worst) story ever. I chuckled to think that when you looked at your watch, to determine John's ETA, that the thought may have crossed your mind: "Can I somehow avoid this for two hours and pretend like it just happened when John gets home?" LOL

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  4. Babies pooping on your face! Classic

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  5. Wow, Gross doesn't do that justice. You just put everything into perspective for me. I'll take normal need-a-bath blowouts any day!

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  6. I'm laughing so hard. What a wonderful and awful story. The advice is greatly appreciated. I'll always be on the lookout for a hint of lukewarmness that may be cause for some spewing.

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