You know It's Gonna Be One of Those Days

Warning this post is a little gross:

Last night S woke up at her usual 2:30 am for a little snack. My husband who had been sleeping on the couch excused himself to the bed and I took up my post on the couch for the rest of the night. Yes, we work in shifts. As S finished and I laid down for an hour or two of sleeping a noticed a foul smell. I had made tofu for dinner which everyone hated and I thought to myself poor hubby I've really done his stomach in.

After about an hour the smell got worse so bad in fact that it woke me up and rather than continuing blaming it on my poor hubby the truth reared its ugly head... the dog had pooped in the house.

Now I faced a quandary do I turn on the light and risk waking everyone up and begin my day at 3:30am or risk stepping in it? I hated the idea of going to sleep with a sock filled with poo but I was not going to lose a minute more sleep. So flashlight in hand I began a tracking mission to scout and retrieve the pile of poo without stepping in it. Nervously I walked keeping a close eye on my feet hoping not to feel that terrible splat of foot against poo. I followed my nose and soon found the steaming pile which I scrubbed in the dark. After about two bottles of fabreeze my clean foot and I went back to sleep.

A few hours later everyone was awake I dressed S in a cute little dress and B chose his own insane outfit and we were off to work. I opened the school and kid after kid arrived but no teachers. Now I am a seasoned professional I can handle most anything. I've taught in blackouts and transit strikes but as those kids kept coming I started getting nervous and then...you guessed it....S pooped, all over her little dress, an excersaucer and another child (don't ask me how). I picked her up and narrowly avoided dripping her poop on my foot. Victorious and still a litle grossed out my clean foot and I loudly sang the wheels on the bus while I cleaned her, her clothes and said child. (By the way another teacher did arrive a few minutes later.)

So the day went on poop free. At the end of the day I took my little brood and headed home. B screaming that he wanted a toy and S screeching her happy little screech. I got home and walked through the door and splat. My foot hit poop. The dog had done another big one right by the front door.

I guess I just need to be a little philosophical about it. There are just some days when the universe deems you are going to get poo on your socks and no matter how hard we try there's no running away from your destiny.