WTF Wednesday

So today’s post has no rhyme or reason – it’s just a WTF Wednesday.


Yesterday the girls had tennis lessons, so Doodlebug and I decided to chill in the truck and watch a movie. By the end of the lesson and the VERY end of my patience I began to smell this horrible, mouth watering, gagging reflex smell! It was somewhere between diarrhea, fresh dog shit and sea food?

Yes you read that correctly! Doodlebug decided to shit his pants! WTF? Really? Why me?!

As the lesson ended, the girls took off to run a mile (as previously instructed and before I could yell at them that we needed to leave) while their coach headed my way. (Okay, I am thinking to myself and secretly hoping that he is headed to HIS car because I know that he is going to smell this awful smell as soon as I roll down the window and he is going to think it is me!)

No such luck, he comes to the truck and my mind is racing. The whole time he is talking about the girls’ progression, all I can think about is “please quit talking and go away! My son has had an explosion in his pants and I am about to puke from the smell - I KNOW you can smell it!”

Again, no such luck. The coach is going on and on while Doodlebug is yelling at me “Poop, Mommy, POOP!” All of my attempts to ignore his yelling failed and when I looked back at him, he was holding up a finger covered in shit! WTF!!!????

(I wanted to get out of the truck and run away crying and screaming - nooooo, noooooo, NOOOO.)


I politely kept nodding at what the coach was saying and reached back and cleaned off his finger with a napkin. (By this point I was mortified and the coach was laughing, so I excused ourselves and went to pick up the girls on their run.)

(Oh, and I must have been sending out the most negative energy waves I could think of, because this little fiasco was the most challenging test of my patience so far! Here I am driving down the road to pick up the girls, while yelling at Doodlebug to keep his fingers OUT of his shit – all the while trying not to hurl from the rancid lactose intolerant smell!!!!! )

I get him home, hose him off and leave again to go meet Mr. Strong at the restaurant. When we get to the restaurant, Mr. Strong asked the girls how their lesson went and then looked at me and asked if I ran while they got their lesson because I looked like I had been “really” sweating!    WTF???!!!

(Um, no! This is how I always look after I have been barricaded in a vehicle with rotten, mouth watering, eyes tearing up, drool commencing, overpowering, and finger dancing SHIT!!!!!!!!!)

Apparently, I should look very sexy after that – I know…WTF???!!!


The joys of having children…I guess I am learning the hard way what it is like to have a potty training, lactose intolerant, 3-year-old son with no bathrooms in sight!

And get this, through all of my yelling and weak stomach and gagging! he was laughing and happy the whole time!



WTF people???!!! WTF???!!!



WoooooSahhhhh!

(happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts!)