The Mr. and I drove separate cars to church this morning. He was ushering, and I was not. We went to lunch with friends afterward and then arrived home…with him beating me there.
When I walked in, a terrible smell assaulted my nose.
It smelled like poop.
Very stinky poop.
I walked around the house looking for a pile but didn’t see anything.
The Mr. came out of one of the bedrooms, and I told him the house smelled bad.
He said that he’d noticed something too (how he was not using stronger words at this point was beyond me).
Together, we investigated further.
He saw it first.
A long, wide pile of diarrhea.
Light brown diarrhea.
The reason I had not seen it the first time was because our floors are brown, so the poop matched the floor.
Boy am I glad I did an eye-scan and didn’t walk all over the place. I would have walked right through it…in my fluffy slippers.
By this time, the smell had grown even worse, and we were both gagging, about to puke.
The Mr. has always claimed that he can’t do poop and did not change many poopie diapers when the kids were babies.
I MADE him come out of his hiding place, threatening him mightily. I told him I’d do the actually wiping up if he would hold the trash bag.
As I gathered supplies, he told me that although he had smelled something when he’d walked in, he thought it was from the very gaseous day I had on Saturday.
Something had not sat right with my tender belly. I’m so glad it wasn’t a weekday.
Teachers with gas…that’s a post for another day.
Anyhoo, I started laughing because I had thought the SAME THING…surely I hadn’t smelled that badly.
Anyhoo, the job required gloves. There was no way I was going to let the cheapo paper towels I’d splurged on a few months ago leak through. The Mr. told me the gloves were going in the garbage with the rest of the mess.
We breathed through our mouths and got through the sordid affair.
We spent the afternoon with the windows open and Scentsy candles putting out a Maple Brown Sugar aroma.
I think this will go down as one of the second yuckiest bonding experiences we’ve ever had…the first being the time we cleaned up Chicky after she did her messy business on the way back from an Auburn game.
That’s a story for another time, though.
No pictures of our adventure today. I figured I’d spare you.