Last night started out much like any other.
Left work, picked up Jamie, came home.
Made Chex Mix.
Ok so that's kind of out of the ordinary, but mama was craving some chex mix like woah.
Anyways, after making a complete mess of the kitchen, Jamie and I made our way downstairs to play.
It was at this point that I realized something had died in my sons pants and he was in need of a diaper change like yesterday.
It was only 6:15....a little early for bath time, but I figured what the heck.
Seemed silly to put on a new diaper for only 20 minutes knowing bedtime was close.
So upstairs we went.
I got Jamie all undressed, cleaned up the massacre in his pants and put him on the floor.
Surely a boy who has just peed AND pooped can be trusted for a little nakey time.
I went down the hall to turn on the tub and see Jamie's naked butt toddling into our bedroom.
No biggie, he probably wants to play with the phone or root through my sock drawer or dig the tennis racket out of the closet.
You know, usual Toddler debauchery.
Like clockwork, as soon as the tub water is on I hear manic laughter and footsteps coming down the hall.
Now it must be told that the amount of time that's past since I saw naked butt in our bedroom to turning on the faucet is maybe 60 seconds.
Sure enough here he comes. But what is that on his leg? And his hand?
Is that chocolate?
Oh dear god PLEASE be chocolate.
I sniff his hand.
All over his legs. Hands. And face.
I clean him up. Brush his teeth. Twice. Get his PJs on and then reluctantly enter
our bedroom the crime scene.
And then I saw it.
And laughed. Cause really....what else can you do.
In 60 seconds my son managed to take a poop (and pee) in the dogs bed.
Apparently he was just marking his spot.
In the infinite words of AP
Motherhood = 1. Mrs EyeCanSee = 0.