Monday, December 7, 2009

Disinfect, much?

This happened last week, and I almost didn't want to share, but then I figured, why not? Everyone has a good poop story, right? No? Just me? Ok, then.

So I have a pair of snowflake PJ pants that I stole from Ryan waaaaaaaaaay back in college when he was just a guy I really liked (and thus, stole clothes from). Obviously I can steal his clothes any time I want, seeing as we're married, but I do love the snowflake pants. So I wear them constantly.

As in, the minute I get home from work, snowflake pants and sweatshirt go on. I like to be comfy. Whatev.

I actually get changed before I even take the dog out (do you see where this is going?), and usually just slip on whatever shoes are by the door to let her out.

So one day last week (or possibly before then, I just happened to notice it last week) I took the dog out in my snowflake pants.

Now, keep up with me here, because this next section is very important.

After taking out the dog, I went upstairs to get a package of decals I've been meaning to put on the living room wall. I bring said decals downstairs. I climb on the couch to position them just so. I step back and look at my work. Not satisfied, I climb back up on the couch. I walk from one end of the couch to the other. I step back again. I go to the kitchen for some water. I go by the dining room table to sort through mail, all while looking at the decals. I decide I like them where they are. I go back to the couch, climb up, walk over throw pillows and blankets, and get the decals up for reals.

Then I go over to the armchair Ryan is sitting in, I climb up, and snuggle for a bit. The dog jumps up. I fall out. And I notice there is something brown on the carpet.

I start dying lauging, and tell Ryan to smell it because I think the dog let out a stink nugget (a rare occurance, but it does happen when she gets excited). He leans down, says no way, and touches it. He smells his finger and promptly starts gagging, to the point where he needed to remove himself to go to the bathroom.

At this time, I am laughing so hard I can't even move. I then smell the carpet and sure enough, it's crap. And now I'm wondering where it came from.... I check the bottom of shoes. I check the dog's butt. I check around the house.... and there's a smudge of poop by the couch.

Shit. Literally.

I check the bottom on my foot. Smeared in shit.

I immediately drop to my hands and knees and crawl upstairs to the tub, where I promptly realize that there is poop smashed into the hem of my snowflake pants.

Of course the only logical thing to do here is ask for a pair of scissors to cut off the offending hem (and the other hem later because the pants are too terrible all lopsided). So I washed off my foot, gagged at the poopy pant hem, and then realized that I must have stepped in poop when I took the dog out earlier, and because the pants are so long, the hem covered the bottom of my shoe. And then when I took the shoe off, I stepped on the hem

WHEN I WAS ON THE COUCH.

Project "De-Poop" commenced, and only now do I feel 100% comfortable with the amount of cleaning that has been done.

3 comments:

Sue (Someone's Mom) said...

Ew...I'm not good with these kinds of things.

Claire said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH POOP PANT! That was a good one.

Mrs. Newlywed Giggles said...

hahah.. wow... at least you figured it out soonner than later.