Tonight I came downstairs to the horrible odor of Bacon's poop. (I know it was his because it has the odor of the undead.) I was irate of course, because Hubby was sitting on the sofa slack jawed watching TV while Bacon was breaking all hell loose.
I should have known though that it wasn't NEW poop.
I should have remembered that there were a couple of pairs of crap encrusted underpants in the powder room. (Because yes, much to my chagrin, we are back to crapping our pants ALLTHEDAMNTIME, despite being potty trained.)
Of course I am a mom now, and I can hardly remember my own goddamn name let alone that we left dirty underwear somewhere that a dog could get it.
However I did leave crappy underwear where a dog could get it, and get it she did! Her face and feet are covered in poop. Her breath reeks of poop. Now my carpet and family room reek of poop too.
Someone just shoot me now. This is seriously more than I can handle anymore.