A Poopy Weekend

          To continue my TMI streak (see here & here), I'm going to  regale you with a disgusting tale of my Sunday last week. My SIL dubbed it "a poopy day". Really, it had been a poopy weekend.
          It started with "one of the kids" (there's 7 here, remember??)  smearing poop all over the bathroom (we're pretty sure it was accidental...we hope) and the rug. Well, the next night, the poor rug (just the rug!) was attacked again. We had our suspicions (the 2yo is the only kiddo who still sits down to put his undies on), but no witnesses.
         On Sunday I found myself in a Walmart bathroom with our now 5yo (this was because of a "you'd rather not know" potty at the restaurant we went to lunch at). She seemed to be experiencing a time delay, so I approached her stall. This action was met with "No, Mommy! I don't want you to see my fingers like this!" Yes. She had miscalculated the amount of bathroom tissue she needed to wipe with. So as I helped her clean the mess, we talked about using appropriate amounts and how *that* kind of toilet paper is "very thin".
         Naturally, this convo led to a "who got poop on the bathroom rug the other night" convo. And she admitted it was her. (I know! I know!) So, as we wandered around Walmart, I attempted to discover the "why" behind it (I still don't the answer to that!) We ended up in the hair product section and picked out a few items, then Amber saw the new Niki Minaj (is that how you spell it??) perfume. Which is just a torso bottle with a head cap. The display, however, was just the torso. I'm not a huge perfume wearer (or Niki Minaj fan) so when Amber commented on how pretty the perfume bottle was, I stated, "Amber, that is not pretty! That is just her torso and some blue lines across her boobs, so that means her boobs are showing. That is *not* pretty."
         Of course *this* convo led to Amber saying how she doesn't have boobs yet, and I assured her she would get some "soon". Then she says, "Yeah. All I have right now are these polky-dot things". As I glanced over to say some pearl of motherly wisdom, I noticed she had emphasized her statement by raising her shirt. For all of Walmart to see. (I just wanted to face-palm so hard that I would smack myself into another dimension. It didn't happen)
        Later, I found myself in the same Walmart bathroom with the 2yo... who decided that it would be awesome to not only exit the stall by crawling out from under it, but to do so using the "side exit". Under another stall. Hi, my name's Michelle, and MORTIFIED is my middle name.
       Hope your weekend was less poopy!!


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