Charlee: I had to go to the bathroom but I’m okay.
Me: Well, did you poop in your pants?
Charlee: Noooo, I just pulled down my pants and it fell out.
Me: Are you sure you didn’t have an accident?
Charlee: No, I cleaned it up.
Katie: Oh gross…. (mixed with giggles)
Me: Well maybe I need to see if the bathroom is okay. (not really wanting to go, but fearful of what she might do next)
Charlee: Don’t worry, that on my britches is cow crap from working cows at the daycare today. Before Meme picked me up, we had to put them in the pen. But she didn’t see them ‘cause we were finished when she got there. (I would call her a LIAR, but I think she just fabricates stories).
So, I reluctantly headed into the bathroom, pondering if I should go ahead and put on my cleaning house clothes or hope it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Needless to say, I turned around went in my room and changed clothes. Then I grabbed the jug of bleach and went to work.
The more I cleaned, the more I noticed what had been victimized by the notorious Charlee. I lifted my new bath rugs that were freshly sprinkled with stinky. I scrubbed the wall that was splattered with Lord knows what. I bleached the grout and the tile that oozed with yuck. Then, I noticed the base of the toilet….and thought to myself “how can a little 20 pound nothing commit such destruction on a bathroom.” Bless her little heart, she tried to clean up--with the hand towel (that is going in the trash).
Does the scene from Daddy Daycare flash in your head?
As hard and deep as I cleaned, the more I found that needed bleaching. When I thought I was finally finished, I spotted the bath toys, needless to say Barbie is now a true Bleached Blonde.
Disgusted beyond means, I threw a plastic Easter egg away. While I cleaned, Charlee headed out to help dad really work cows and ride the horse. A little while later, she came racing back in the house to go to the bathroom again, when she apparently noticed the cheap, good for nothing poop covered Easter egg I had thrown in the trash. She rushed into the family room, and as if I had committed an unforgivable sin said “That Easter Egg does not go in the trash”
Me: Oh yes it does—it has poop on it.
Charlee: OH NO it doesn’t, you can wash it off and I already did. And away she prised
So I guess I am heading back to the bathroom to re-bleach everything.
I know this is a gross story but remember in my first post, I said that I am always knee deep in some kind of adventure only today it wasn’t an adventure I was knee deep in. ;~)