I got home from work about an hour ago and found the house quiet. Everyone was napping. So I tip toed around putting down my bags, creeping quietly so I could enjoy a few minutes of sewing in peace. I'm very close to having a project finished for my friend Katie and I wanted to get it knocked out before bedtime tonight so I could get it in the mail tomorrow. Sorry Katie, maybe Monday.
Anyway, just before I stepped into my shop I heard the stirrings of Kat and Louise. The light was on in their room. Never a good sign. I thought about letting them play quietly for a few minutes, but then they started to rattle the door knob. I'd been found out. They could hear me outside the door. So I opened the door just a crack so I could play a little peek a boo with them. I saw this little face.
Then I was nearly knocked to my knees by the smell of poop. EVERYWHERE. Poop.
I was going to insert a picture here of the bio-hazard site but the images might have been too much for my readers with week stomachs. I Googled "poop images", but they were too gross, even for me, even the cartoon poop. So you'll just have to use your imaginations.
I opened the door slowly and discovered that the room was literally covered in poop. OMGoodness.
Standing the middle of the explosion was diaper-less Louise and her accomplice Katriel. COVERED IN POOP. I whisked them off to the bathtub, scrubbed them down and then went back to assess the damage. Both sets of bunk bed frames, sheets, blankets, plus 4 pillows and pillow cases--covered in poop. Three out of four walls--smeared with poop. The bedroom curtains--defiled with poop. The back of the door--a giant poop mural. The toy box--finger painted with poop. Dozens of toys--poopified. The carpet--a giant, scary poop minefield. Louise is our own personal IED.
And then I saw it, laying on its back next to the door, minding its own business. The Fan. The sh*T had literally hit the fan.
Happy Friday. Hope you have a poop free weekend. I know I've had my fill!
