Today has been a good day. A friend and I made plans to leave our boys with a childcare provider who does drop-in care, and we were going to have coffee and enjoy some much-needed catch up time together.
The boys and I got up this morning and had a relaxing time at home. I packed their lunches, showered, and we weren’t running late at all. They were excited to go play somewhere new, and nobody cried or protested as I left.
I felt so luxurious driving around in my new minivan (oh, I haven’t told you yet? Yep, I got a minivan!! More on that later).
My friend and I went to Panera and had coffee and a sandwich and chatted forever. It was amazing. She had her baby with her and he even fell asleep! We were living the charmed life, I tell you.
When we said goodbye, I ran to the grocery store to pick up a few things, and on the way to pick up the boys, I passed a compounding pharmacy, and remembered that I had been meaning to go in there for something for months. I made the stop, got what I needed, and made it to pick up the boys with time to spare.
I walked in the room to find my boys sitting quietly, listening to a story, while the 2 other boys there were screaming and pushing and falling all over each other. Yes, my boys were being the good ones. Mrs. Evelyn told me that they had been so wonderful and polite and asked how I got them to eat so well, and how Isaac even asked to be excused when he was done. I humbly said that they are sometimes better for others than they are at home, but I mentally patted myself on the back for raising polite kids.
They cheerfully got into the van and on the way home, I ruminated at my wonderful morning with a friend, congratulated myself on having the ingredients I need for dinner, for finally stopping at the pharmacy and taking control of my health (picked up something for migraines), for having the best kids in the world. Oh yes, I was having a good day.
And then we walked into the playroom door to find it.
A diarrhea grenade had gone off….on the Berber carpet. Because when dogs get the runs, tile and hardwood will just not do, my friends. And also because (inexplicably!!) when dogs get the runs, they do the walk-and- poo. They give traveler’s diarrhea a whole new meaning.
The boys were aghast.
I sucked it up—literally, I had to hold my breath–and unloaded the groceries and then got down on my hands and knees in my cute-meeting-a-friend-for-coffee outfit and cleaned up the sh!t. While the boys stood safely on the untouched tile screaming, “oh gross, stinky!!!!”.
And I thought to myself, welcome back to reality–hope you enjoyed your 3-hour break.
(And I did. It was totally worth the diarrhea, even though I will never again walk around down there barefoot.)