Everyone knows that the stay at home has many jobs. To prove this I will now tell you that I am the chauffeur, chef, maid (kinda, sorta), launderer, lunch packer, boo boo kisser, teeth brusher….you get the idea…
However, I never thought I’d be on the police squad. Not the normal break up fights between the kids police squad, oh no, this is a whole new unit.
I am now an unhappy member of the poop police. Yes, I’m serious. There is not a person in this house that poops without my involvement…
Let’s go down the list, shall we?
My Loving Husband. What the hell is up with him? I would think that with his self prescribed high fiber diet his bowels would be able to take place without me knowing about it. I would think wrong. Eric takes so long to go that he jokes about taking an unscheduled shit if I don’t know about it and make a fuss. But in my defense, if I’m in a rush to get somewhere and all of a sudden he decides he has to go, my whole time frame is thrown off, then I get crabby, I yell at the kids, and I’m doing the work I had set aside for him to do (i.e.-brushing kids teeth) to get out the door on time. Seriously, Eric’s bowels stress me out, and since he knows he stresses me out, he’s probably more stressed out and causing Irritable Bowel Syndrome, it’s a catch 22. And I know you’re thinking I should let him go in peace….well, take those crazy thoughts elsewhere..
My First Born Son. Why won’t he wash his hands? Why? If Blake’s been in the bathroom for more than a minute I demand to know if he went pee or poop. He’s always honest with me, then pitches a fit when I demand to smell his hands. And guess what? They always smell like poop. Always. You would think by now he’d figure it out and just wash his damn hands…nope…so freaking gross.
My Jackie Jacks. Jack is almost five, and he has man poops. Seriously. He poops like his dad. But he always positions himself on the toilet so that the shit is never in the water. Nope, it hangs on the side of the bowl, stinking up the place. And no matter how many times I beg him, Jack refuses to flush. So if I don’t catch him going, it could be hours before that toilet gets flushed, and then I have to go in and scrub off the hanger onners. At least he washes his hands….
My Disgusting Diva. Need I remind you of the Poop Soup? Hope also is fond of scraping her butt across the toilet seat and leaving a trail of poop behind, kind of like a demented Gretal. Not that I use the kids bathroom if I can help it, but there have been times I’ve sat in her leftovers and visibly recoiled….and once in a while I come across her markings and Jack’s leavings at the same time…yes!
My Baby Girl. Corn. Need I say more?
And just for the record, I don’t poop. And if I did, it would obviously smell like lilacs and jasmine…just ask Eric…
*click here to enter an awesome raffle, $10/ticket, prizes include a new Canon Rebel, and so many other crazily amazing goodies I can’t even remember! It’s to benefit Kirill, a Russian orphan whose adoption was denied simply because he has Down Syndrome. His family is appealing, but the costs are great…please help for a great cause!