Not more than five minutes ago, the following happened.
The girls are in the bath tub. I'm chatting with John in our bedroom just a few steps away (all safety concious out there can rest assured that I could see the girls the whole time). He looks down on the floor and says: "What's this?"
He picks up the unknown object. He screams: "Ahhhhh! It's poop!" and immediately drops it like it was a ball of fire (which it kind of was).
"Whose poop is that? Why is it on the floor? I can't believe I just touched poop. With my bare hands. I'm going to have to burn them now. I'm so disgusted."
I am laughing. I can't talk. I'm laughing that hard.
"It's not funny! Stop laughing!"
I keep laughing. I probably didn't have to tell you that.
"I feel sick. Seriously, I think I might need to vomit."
For those of you who haven't bred yet, welcome to the romance of parenthood. Hey, at least there are some good moments of schadenfreude.
Still laughing.
4 comments:
Oh that is the funniest thing I've heard today!!
You never answered the question about whose poop it was. Inquiring minds want to know. Sort of. Actually, nevermind.
Shan: Yup, and I'm still laughing this morning. John still isn't.
Beth: It was Hope's but you probably knew that. Emily, luckily, hasn't done that in a year or so.
I'm laughing out loud in my office, relieved that most people have left for the day so I don't have to explain what's making me laugh!
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