Ghost Poopy

After a rousing Saturday night including catching up on reruns, and calling our parents, Nick and I headed to bed early. We snuggled in and both got out our kindles to read when we smelled it.

N: Oh come on! You farted!
S: Um. No! No way! That was NOT me! Don’t blame that on me!
N: It wasn’t me!
S: Then what?

We look at each other, then both jump out of bed, turn on our bedside lamps and pull back all the covers. After an exhaustive search of our blankets, our sheets, our pillows & pillow cases we found…absolutely nothing. The smell was also gone.

Are you going to leave them a gift, or am I?

We climbed back into bed, each took up residence in the far corners of our respective sides and tried to fall asleep. Each suspicious of the other.

Just before we drifted off, I reminded Nick that it was my turn to sleep in and let him know where he could find breakfast for the kids.

Six-thirty sharp, Tilly is up with bells on. Our routine is to bring her into our bed until Charlie wakes up, then we take them down for breakfast together. Around 7:15, Charlie comes in, so Nick gets up and takes them downstairs. He asks me how long I want to sleep, and I tell him 8ish as I roll over and snuggle back in.

*Twenty-five year old me just threw up. Eight in the morning on a Sunday is sleeping in?!?! What in the hell happened?*

The kids were being good, and the three of them were having fun, so Nick gave me a bonus hour (It’s not even Mothers Day or anything!).

So at 9am, he came in to wake me up. I opened my eyes, and said I’d be right down, then closed my eyes again so I could wake up slowly. Then I smelled it. Again. The same smell as the night before. Shit. In. My. Bed. Some. F**king. Where. And now we’ve slept in it. Gag!

This is totally what mommy and daddy look like when they sleep.

I leap out of bed again and start stripping everything off it. Nick (who assumes I’ve dozed back off when I didn’t appear downstairs) comes back upstairs right as I am shoving everything into the washer.

N: What are you doing?
S: The s**t, it’s in the blankets! It’s ground in! There is poo residue somewhere in our BED! The smell, it was ON MY FACE when you woke me up. We slept with it all night! I think an unwiped butt sat on or near our pillows at some point yesterday.

Grind it in! Grind it in! Grind it in!

Gross.

Yay parenthood!

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