Oh... the poop.

I must warn you, if you have a weak stomach, stop reading this now. Just click close. Just don't do it. Also, if you don't have kids yet, and don't want to taint your view of the rainbows and butterflies that is parenthood, well, then you may not want to read this either.

OK, everyone gone?

Well, for the two of you left reading this, I will tell you about my "crappy" day. Pun completely intended.

One of my little daycare sweeties was hanging out playing after snack this morning. I was going about my business doing the normal routine of cleaning each child before removing them from the chair. As I am removing the last kid from the table, I glance over at the little girl laying on my carpet ... with POOP ALL OVER HER LEGS!! Did you hear me? POOP ALL OVER HER LEGS!!!! It was like the scene from a horror movie - like cue the knife stabbing music right at that moment - as I look around the room and see poop on the firetruck, poop on my wood floors....s Oh God.

I pick up the poop covered child, and somehow with super strength wrangle the other 3 kids to safe spots and began to de-poo the poor girl. She was unphased, by the way. I am glad about that because a poop-covered, thrashing child is the only thing worse than a poop-covered neutraly charged child.

I begin operation bleach every freaking thing in my house - starting with my white shirt that I am WEARING that is COVERED in POOP! Oh God.

Then I moved to the wood floors. Bleached those. Then to the poor firetruck. Bleached the heck out of that. Then vacuumed the floors, inspecting every inch for poop. Then I just couldn't stop there and decided I better bleach every toy that was on the floor - just in case a poop particle landed on it.

Now anyone who knows me knows that I do not normally use bleach! I use all natural or homemade cleaning supplies, so the fact that I basically bathed in bleach HAS to show you the severity of the problem here.

Well, the afternoon has to be better than this. Currently, all the kids are sleeping - excpet for my son, the music-enthusiast, who happens to be upstairs in his crib singing himself to sleep. Twinkle, twinkle, little star to be exact.

Yep, the poop is worth it.