We were enjoying a nice evening at home.
Mary Martin was content playing with her crayons,
Oliver was waging war on a galaxy far, far away,
hubs was checking facebook on his phone,
and Eliza played sweetly with her Barbies on the bean bag beside my desk as I did highly important things on Pinterest.
Nice, quiet evening.
Every so often, a giggle here and there from the girls.
The sound of spaceships zooming from the boy.
It came silently.
It came with no warning.
There was no sound,
no bells or whistles to alert us.
Until she stood.
She stood and she walked.
She had to show daddy what her Barbie was wearing because she looked like a princess.
She stood and walked,
and then I saw.
I saw the hint of it, running down her leg.
Did she sit in something?
Is it marker?
They know how I feel about the markers...
What is that?
"Babe, what's on her leg?"
hubs: "I don't know. Where?"
"On the back of her leg. What is that?"
hubs: (looks at her backside) "Oh my GOSH"
"Could that be...."
She's two years old, afterall. Messy accidents of a dreadful nature have been a thing of the past. At least, with her. No way that's, ummm...
hubs: "It's POO"
hubs: "It's total doo-doo!"
"But how, .....where was she...."
"WHERE WAS SHE?"
I jumped up, remembering that she'd been so content playing in the bean bag seat for quite some time. It's on her leg! If it's on her leg, then....
I looked down.
It couldn't be,
I'd been sitting right beside her in my chair for the past 20 minutes.
But sure enough,
there it was.
Smeared into our beloved Star Wars bean bag.
Smeared into a sweet innocent pillow.
Mounds of it.
The poor girl never made a sound, just kept talking in her best soprano voice to her Barbies. Singing and talking and singing and talking, and all the while, lounging in the poo.
Steady yourself friends,
because you KNOW I took a picture.
How could I not?
(I did, however, shift the pillow to cover the worst of it.)
Avert your eyes if you're of the weak-stomached variety.
It's one of those times when, after the discovery of 3 scoops of chocolate didley-doo, ya just have to take a deep breath (in cleaner air, of course) and laugh.
We not only had to say goodbye to the bean bag and the pillow, but the purple fairy tutu as well. Never before has a garment seen such destruction my friends. There was no saving it.
It was too far gone.
Thank goodness I'd taken these pics of her in it just a few days prior.
Memories of sweeter days.
And, as if a bean bag, a pillow, and a purple fairy tutu weren't enough, E had decided to give her tutu a little umph right before settling into her poop spot. A lovely little pink tutu also fell victim to the poo.
Now you see why we couldn't immediately see it?
It was all up in them tutu's.
All up IN THEM.
The hubs and I jumped into action, not wanting to waste a single minute. He whisked the poo poo princess outside where he proceeded to strip her and begin the task of removing said poo from each of her crevices.
I concluded that the bean bag and pillow were total losses,
so I helped hubs by taking pictures of him removing said poo from E's crevices.
Once our princess had been thoroughly cleaned, scrubbed, rinsed, and repeated, we pajama'd her up and put her to bed. I held the door open as hubs carried all other traces of said poo straight to the curb where we knew it would be picked up in a few days when the rubbish truck (or whatever it's called- it's not the garbage truck, but the curbside stuff truck) would, unfortunately, have the task of tossing it in.
But, guess what?
Even ending there, we've got one heckuva story to embarrass our little E until she's 40,
but it doesn't end there.
You see, I thought it'd be funny to commemorate the curbside poo cast-offs in my Project Life album, so the next morning as O and I left for school, I snapped this pic:
It was a Tuesday morning,
the day after the great poo debacle.
Not the day that the rubbish-or-whatever-you-call-it truck comes.
Are you following?
It should have been there when we came home,
but it wasn't.
And no truck came.
someone passed by in their car and thought,
"Whoa! There's a free Star Wars bean bag and a totally rad black and white pillow! I can't believe someone is getting rid of that!
I'll take it!"
those are the famous last words of some poor soul out there who not only threw a couple of unwanted items into the back of their car,
but a couple scoops of straight up chocolate didley-doo as well.
The moral of this story?
"Check for POO before you take it with you"