February 18, 2006

Shitty Morning...I Shit You Not...

Now let me start by saying I am about to talk about shit.....literally. So the weak of heart please leave the room.

Ok - everyone else - here's is just one of the reasons I am Not Winning Mother of the Year. Seriously.

I have four bathrooms in my house. 4. Yes I said it and before you go making any comments - I have to CLEAN all four of them. And 2 men live here. One large boy and one small boy. Neither of which has any future in sports as their aim sucks.

I am USED to cleaning pee. On the seat. Under the seat. Behind the seat. On the floor. On the base of the toilet. On the wall. EVERYWHERE. I bitch every week. I mean BITCH. Nothing helps. But today. TODAY. I lost my mind, flipped my fucking wig.....

I walked into the kids bathroom, to give the kids a shower. One at a time. Its not that kind of place. I glance over at the toilet - I was planning on cleaning anyway - WHAT THE?!?!

Is that SHIT on the toilet seat? Not in - I don't want to confuse you - that was there as well - smeared from one side of the bowl to the other - but on THE SEAT smeared with the accuracy of Stevie Wonder.

I gasp. IS THIS SHIT? ON THE SEAT? My voice is near piercing at this point. My son, who is standing in the shower already, replies quietly, ever so quietly. Sor-ry. Two syllables.....SOR-RY.

WHAT?? Did you KNOW it was there? When did this happen? This morning? Did you try to clean it? Did you wash your hands? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS WAS HERE? Questions are flying out faster than the $100,000 Pyramid. No answers from behind the curtain.

Now, this is the moment....right here....where I know I can either try for Mother of the Year or not........nope. Not today.

In my fury that has snowballed into its own beast - not only at the shit mocking me on the seat - but the fact this this smart little boy, who has been wiping his own ass WITHOUT incident for 2 years now - didn't think it IMPORTANT to tell me that the bathroom looked (and smelled) like a stall out of Grand Central.

I throw back the curtain....little boy WIDE eyed....I bend down to his level and with my nose very close to his, thru clenched teeth pick my words very carefully. "Do. You. Know. That. IF. You. Put. Your. HANDS. In. Your. MOUTH. after. you. touch. POOP. you can DIEEEEEEEEEE???????

I know. Very over dramatic - that whole dying thing. But he had to know to never do such a thing. I'm not saying he isn't going to have an accident. It could happen. He has to tell me.

Scarred for life.....probably.

Poop on the seat without telling me....I doubt it.

Thanks for all the warm wishes to my new friends (even if my sister made you come!)

3 Comments:

At 8:53 PM, Anonymous Trish said...

Niiiiiiiiiiiiiice. I personally thought that was well done ;) I just recently had to deal with this episode here...

*Sniff*Sniff* What smells rank?

Walking around, trying to locate the smell. Enlist my 10 year old stepson in this endeavor...

He says, "Hey, it's this toilet seat cover!"

It's wet. Okay, maybe it got soaked by the shower- toss it in the wash.

I go into the laundry and curiosity gets the best of me. I pick it up and sniff it.

OMG. Puke. It smells like HUMAN URINE (With cats, dogs and kids- you begin to realize which pee is which!).

Therefore I track down my 6 year old daughter and proceed to ask in my most clench-jawed voice, "DID.YOU.PISS.ON.THE.TOILET.SEAT.COVER."

At first, I get the whole, "No, I didn't" story. But eventually- the truth won out. Yes, she DID pee on it. No, she did not MEAN to. (Of course)

But come on!!! Accidents happen- but take the nasty thing to the LAUNDRY! PLEASE!

Hehehehe- thanks for letting me get that out ;)

mommacoatimundi@hotmail.com OR

 
At 9:22 PM, Blogger sherry said...

I'm laughing. LAUGHING out LOUD and yelling to DON..."Oh my GOD I HAVE to read you this..." and, of course, he said he'd rather read it himself, because apparently, my reading aloud isn't so entertaining. Whatever.

Anyway, I know that clenched mouth and thank the LORD I've never been on the receiving end.

And, you know? You were sorta right. You CAN die. I mean, the odds are, like, more astronomical than winning the damn Powerball, but still. You can. Uh huh. It's true.

So, so funny. See? I told you there was shit to write about, even if it IS in the literal sense.

 
At 7:45 AM, Blogger Sheri said...

oh my freakin' word - I am laughing my ass off here.

 

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