Poopocalypse

Holy sweet hell. Know what those pictures are?

Exactly what they look like.

But let me give you a little back story.

Right now I am hosting either Strep, or it's low rent, meaner, uglier cousin. I'm waiting for the lab report to confirm.

My body aches, my throat is on fire and I am congested like that snot monster from Ghostbusters. Yeah, sexy.

So after a particularly bratty morning wrangling the monsters while John got his hair did, the trade off was that I was supposed to get to spend this afternoon in bed trying to get over the plague.

Operative words: supposed to.

See, John put Sterling down for nap... and evidently skipped one critical step.

He didn't put the jammies on backwards.

In our house, backwards jammies are critical. For obvious reasons.

Homegirl was so moved by her unexpected opportunity to get naked that she decided to spread her joy... on her sheets, her comforter, and all over the carpet.

And as I sit here feeling sorry for myself, I know that I am the one who is going to end up cleaning it up.

At least I am congested enough that I won't smell it.

Much.

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