Wednesday, March 25, 2009

poo post (everybody has one)

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.
Me: Yuh.

the culprit:


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...

4 comments:

JG said...

Yeah, he poops in his sleep, but he's a handsome boy.

Paulita said...

I'll take your poop in bed story and raise you one

I have a small yorkie and occasionally (constantly) she likes to jump up on the kitchen chairs and onto the kitchen table

yup...one day found a few poop niggets on the kitchen table..pretty much on top of our nice expensive bamboo mats

ugh gad

I was nice..and didn't tell me husband for fear of him getting rid of the lil shit

Paulita said...

nuggets..not niggests

Stephanie Meade Gresham said...

You say niggets, I say nuggets...let's call it what it is. POOP.