You heard me. I said I'M SICK OF POOP. I go from the litter box to railroad tracks in the kids' underwear to backed-up toilets to dog doo in the back yard and back to the litter box again. Don't even get me started on the nastiness I routinely find when my kids forget to flush after doing their business. As if I need proof that they remain potty trained.
This morning I got up at the ungodly hour of nine am and went to check on the kids, who were OD'ing on TV.
"Why don't you get up when your kids get up so you can monitor their screen time?" you ask.
Well, because it's ME and I love to SLEEP IN and it's SPRING BREAK so BACK OFF.
Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I was walking down the hall to check on the kids when I smelled a smell. It wasn't pleasant and was emanating from our laundry room, where the litter box is located. I went in and started cleaning the box and then noticed . . . it.
"It" being a little present a cat had left me. One of our two cats had diarrhea during the night, missed the litter box and hit the wall. The cat diarrhea had run down the wall, behind and over the baseboard, onto the floor, then under the litter box, glueing it to the floor. Can cats have explosive diarrhea? WELL I GUESS SO, GENIUS.
Right then, for about 2 minutes, I hated my life. It was 9 am, my unfed kids were glued to SpongeBob and I was in my pajamas looking at cat poop dripping down my wall. I started to clean it up, gagged and left it - HEY, at least I turned the exhaust fan on - until 5 pm when I eventually got back to IT. After using 4000 paper towels and an entire can of scrubbing bubbles, my laundry room is now back to its usual smelliness er, Downy fresh aroma.
So, let's talk about lunch time. I fixed lunch for the four of us and stood, eating a leftover taco over the kitchen sink, looking out at my daffodils. I took a bite, glanced down at the grass and saw . . .
. . . this.
My eyes flew over the yard and I realized Lilly, our house guest for the week, had left us many of these gifts ALL OVER THE BACK YARD. (My kids have picked up dog doo one time since Sunday. I'm not a dog owner - do you pick up dog doo more often than that?) When I saw this lovely sight, I was CHEWING FOOD IN MY MOUTH. I gagged for the second time that day and went outside for some fresh air - but not in the backyard, if you get me.
If I didn't know better I'd think I was pregnant. I mean, really folks - I'M A NURSE. I have discussed the most disgusting things known to man while eating a meal at the nurses' station. I've lost my nurse's cast iron stomach and I think it just happened today. However, all is not lost! I figured out a cure and it looks like this . . . .
Hello lover. Come to mama. This is the beginning of a beautiful relationship and it's called Karenpie + Long Island Iced Tea = happiness, peace, tranquility and no-longer-caring-about-poop-in-my-life. OK, I know some of you are not partakers of adult beverages but let me tell you, if you had cat poop dripping down YOUR wall, you'd be on my front porch begging me for a Long Island.
Yes, you would. Would too. Admit it.
Before I leave, I'll share this with you, so you don't think I'm completely gross and inappropriate. Alright, alright, I AM gross and inappropriate but I'm learning to take really cool pictures. There's more than just dog doo going on in my backyard and this is the proof.
Send scrubbing bubbles if you think of me.