Holy Sh*t!
I woke up refreshed and ready to take on the day. I was up early and had a smile on my face as I headed down the hall to my oldest room. As I reached to door a terrible smell hit me. I rolled my eyes thinking “great, here we go”. I expected this to be like any other morning since we were still potty training and accidents happen. So, I took a breath and prepared myself for mother of all diaper changes. I slowly opened to door and it took everything I had not to hurl on the spot. I wanted to throw up, crying and scream all at once. I expected to see my 2 year old sleeping in bed with a loaded diaper waiting for a change but instead i was greeted with a literal shit storm. My son and all his belongings were covered in fesses. He had painted his room top to bottom in his own shit and I swear he never looked more please with himself. I took one look at the room and knew there was no hope and everything (including the boy) needed to be thrown out. I stood in the doorway for what felt like hours trying to pull my jaw off the floor. I finally scooped up my son and plopped him in the bath to scrub himself up. You may think I’m cruel for make him wash himself off but I think it’s pretty effed of him to make me scrub his shit off the walls. As he washed I prepared a bucket of bleached, gloves and tried to regain some sanity. We BOTH spent the next hour or so scrubbing every inch of that room, soaking toys in bleach tubs and throwing everything in the washing machine to deep clean. When the mess was finally cleaned to my satisfaction my little one looked at me and asked for pancakes. I gritted my teeth and fixed him some breakfast. I sat there and watched him eat but I decided to hold off until lunch at least; my appetite was shot!
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