Since I could barely walk last night after doing a day's work around the house, I decided that today I would really take it easy and maybe start a new book or sew or something. (I threw sew in there because it momentarily touched my mind as something relaxing... it's not easy enough for me to consider leisurely- so I'm striking it from my to-do's right now. Strike.)
I had to break down and take a tylenol last night that Jed had to practically force-feed me. I think I said "no, thanks" through clenched teeth a few times before I decided that the pain I was feeling in my lower back justified the treatment.
Anyway.... today is lazy day. My big plans were to unload the dishwasher and make the bed. And that was all. When I fluffed up the cozy Ikea comforter hubby and I sleep under, I noticed a small thing in the bed near the foot Jed's side.
Oh, THERE'S my hair-tie, I thought. Because I usually lose them sometime during the thralls of my lingerie-laden dreams during the night. Don't ask, they get pretty weird when I'm pregnant.
So I made a grab for the "hair-tie" and to my surprise it was....well.....it was poop. A tiny nugget, hard and dry. *Gag. I know. AND I TOUCHED IT!
After scrubbing my hands and arms and brushing my fingernails surgeon style, I called husband at work to tell him that I touched poop and to toss a few ideas at him about where it came from.
I started off with the obvious: I'm pretty sure it was the dog. It was at the foot of the bed.
Husband: Are you serious? Which side?
Me: Your side. About where your calves sleep.
Him: Maybe it was me.
Me: No, it was too small to be yours.
Him: Oh, then it was definitely Boone's.
So now that I have touched the bed poop, my fingers are convinced that they are contaminated. Even after the scrub down. Or scrub up. I keep reaching for stuff and automatically using my left hand, which is the doofus hand that always drops stuff.
My day has turned from leisurely and breezy to wash sheets and de-poop the bed. Super. And I'll probably starve today since I have to depend on wonky hand to feed my face. Unless I get a smoothie...
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