She ran the sweeper, sucking up dirt and debris from the back room, having finally found some motivation for the day. She had literally texted her niece but a few minutes before that she was just in a shit mood for the day.
Amidst her cleaning frenzy, she hears the wails of her oldest, beckoning her attention away from her menial task. The youngest was stripped down to her bare bottom despite having just gone on the potty perhaps five minutes prior.
“I pee, I pee.” she informs. Needless to say, Mommy was not impressed, but she pursed her lips and headed back to her youngest’s room to get her cleaned up. When what to her wandering eyes should appear, but a lovely little nugget on the hallway floor.
“Damn cats,” she muttered under her breath. Their lovely little presents were not uncommon surprises to be found. Surmising to get that in a minute after her daughter’s clean up, she turned the corner into her youngest’s room and there, lo and behold, lay another tiny little treat, a discarded pull-up, and a pair of red leggings.
Not always quick to put the pieces together, this evidence was irrefutable. She gasped, and turned to her youngest, “Is this poop yours?!?” Her immediate burst into tears relayed shame and sadness over the truth.
“Accidents happen…” the mother said, letting her daughter know she was not in trouble, while inside she fumed a little regardless. To ease some of her anger, she did what any Mom might, and Snapped her happy little accident for others’s amusement.
“Melly did it,” the youngest tried to recover.
“No, honey. This time it wasn’t the cat who left me a little present.”
“Melly…” she half whispered, half pouted as her mother picked up the tiny turds and sprayed the carpet to clean it.
Back downstairs, returning to play and vacuum, it was not long before, another wail rang in her Mommy ears.
The youngest’s tears and the oldest’s tattles relay that there is something on the young one’s foot. Mommy picks up her daughter, sets her on the stair and took a peak. Jammed between toes are the smelly remnants of poo.
“Where did you step in this?” she questioned while cleaning the debris from her child’s foot.
Her daughter walks her over to the cupboard door. They then stood there for a few minutes trying to communicate.
“It’s by the door,” her little voice states.
Mommy looks all over the door, on the floor beneath the door, inside the door, in the cupboard,in the the cupboard directly beside this cupboard and all around.
“Where did you step in the poo, honey?” she asked, determined to get to the bottom of this poop perplexity.
“I didn’t step in poo Mommy,” irritation oozing from each word. She clearly was inconveniencing her young daughter.
Deep breath… “How did the poop get on your foot then?
“I don’t know…. I don’t know…”
Well, that was productive, she thought to herself, and returned once more to her unfinished job. Literally, two seconds after turning on the vacuum, yet another alert from her eldest, and cries from her youngest. This time, there is poop on her youngest’s hand.
What the hell is going on??? Where is all this poop coming from? she shouts in her head.
After scrubbing up her daughter again, she goes to see what is happening in the living room. Blocks are spread all over the floor as well as various other toys.
“Well these all need washed. You sit here. You sit there, and let me figure out where all this poop is coming from,” she instructs her littles while commencing to pick up all toys and place in the sink for a proper washing.
She tries to question her youngest about where all the feces could be found, but no conclusive evidence was provided. After cleaning up all toys, she began to wipe down the floor to cover any poop smears that may have been made, and then turned her vacuum to the carpet. All was just about clean when suddenly, a cold, squishy, and all too familiar goo was oozing between her own toes. The last remnants of what her daughter had evidently found prior, was now firmly trapped between her own toes. The color and consistency was not that of her find just a few minutes ago in her daughter’s room, and this time she knew…
“AHHHHHHHHHH those cats!!!” This was more than she could bear at this second.
A second pooper!
Hobbling across the floor, toes in the air to avoid further contamination, she cleaned her foot, and then washed it properly in the sink and dried it. Her lovely daughters were still firmly planted in their seats as Mommy was clearly losing her shit.
Upon further examination, it appeared that most of the debris had been cleared by her foot, so she sprayed the carpet and scrubbed away any last remnants of the feline feces, finished a last sweep, and went to inspect the cats for remaining evidence of just which feline was behind the fiasco.
Both were reportedly clean, but the fat one was very suspicious…
Maddening… to say the least.
*** Upon finishing the writing of this post for cathartic purposes, my oldest just turned to me and said, “Mommy, I need to poop…” Living the dream, folks.