We get home from swimming at the Y, making it home after a hellacious thunderstorm. The dog, of course, peed on the floor. In the office. Right there <– actually.
I put a big thirsty towel over the pee (BIG dog. BIG bladder *sigh*) and danced on it for a minute. Then, I filled the bathtub and threw the kids in, both insisting on wearing their swimsuits. I figure, sure. That’ll save me from having to rinse them anyway, right? Being the queen of multitasking, I’m all about such time-saving steps.
I took Kelsey out of the bathtub first. As I’m taking off her swimsuit, Kelsey looks into the crotch area: “There’s no more poo poo in my swimsuit!” she says, happily.
I look over, and there’s Laurel, sucking on a wet facecloth.
I FREAK out, take her out of the bathtub, contemplate washing her mouth out with bleach and then decide that’s probably not a good idea, send both drippy kids to their room. Bleach out the tub, the toys.
Ten minutes later, Laurel walks up to me, a charming smile on her face:
“Mommy, are you happy?”
“No, right now I’m not feeling very happy. I’m feeling angry at Kelsey and Tommy (the dog).”
“Mommy? Are you happy with ME?”
“Yes, Laurel, I’m happy with you.”
*grins, twirls around the bathroom*