A Nice, Quiet Evening...WAIT! CODE BROWN!

I've been working in my office for a couple of hours, trying to get ready for the classes that begin on Tuesday.  Tracy and Shea have taken a nap, but now they are wandering around the downstairs chatting and playing.  It's a charmingly domestic sound for me.  I can hear their back and forth, their give and take.  Shea is pretending to call her auntie on a fake phone while Tracy is knocking around in the kitchen making dinner.  I feel relaxed, comfortable, at-home.

I hear the quick patter of Shea's feet and a quick, "Mommy?  I have to go poop."

This is almost immediately followed by, "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh, Kyle?!" I can tell from Tracy's tone that something is rotten in Denmark.  I get up from my desk and rush down the stairs.  When I get to the bottom of the second flight I hear, "Don't walk through the living room!  There's poop on the floor."

What I didn't tell you is that Shea was walking around the house without pants.  She was jumping on her trampoline when something was, literally, knocked loose.  She did her best, scrambling to the downstairs basement, but she left a trail of pooplets all across the living room floor. 

So, as I step down off the last step I look down to see her Hansel and Gretel trail of "crumbs" on the floor.  The dog is already chowing down on one of them.  I grab the dog, shuffle her outside, and high step my way to the bathroom to help Tracy.

"Floor or Shea?" she asks me.  I hate cleaning carpets so I vote for Shea.  She's got poop smeared all the way down her legs, across her ass, and I really don't want to touch her.  But, what can you do?  I strip her shirt off and load her into the shower.  I strip down and step in with her.  Tracy goes about the slow task of getting poop out of carpet. 

Good think we borrowed our friends' carpet shampooer already.  Looks like I know what I'm doing tomorrow.

Ah well, what can you do.  After all, it was bath night and now we got that chore out of the way.