I was just about ready to head out the door to work (for Ted, so it was a bit after 3 AM). Keller had been outside and gotten stuck, so I went out, untangled her, brought her in, and raced upstairs to finish getting ready. Keller wandered into the bedroom and then the bathroom, where I was, and began sniffing all over the floor. Not quite sure what she was up to, I thought it was weird. Walked into the bedroom and I could have sworn there was an intruder in the house - the bed sheets were stripped off the bed, which neither me nor Keller had done.
Or - had she? As I peered closer at the bed, stripped down to the flat sheet, there were near perfectly placed brown prints scattered about it. Still confused, but with the blocks falling in to place, while simultaneously trying to deny what I thought it was, I leaned over to smell it.
Poop paw prints. All. Over. The. Bead.
Oh, and it gets better. Poop paw prints in the carpet hallway, up the stairs, in the living room, in the kitchen, and still on Keller's foot. No wonder she was giving me the "Ididn'tdoitImeanI'msorryImeandon'tbemadatme" cowering look.
So why was I late for work today? I had to Shout all the sheets and pillowcases on the bed, load up the laundry, run around and spray down all the carpet stains to clean later, wipe up the floor, and attend to Keller's rascal back paw, yup, gooped in fresh poop. And before I ran out the door, I kissed Keller on the head goodbye, hugging her and reassuring her that it was OK and I was not mad. Then I stifled a giggle as I drove off to work, still completely disgusted, wanting to take a shower very badly, and also reassured that yes, I am not ready for kids.