I Don't Want Us to Be the Family Whose House Smells Like Poo

I Don't Want Us to Be the Family Whose House Smells Like Poo

Mali and Leelo seem to have stopped barfing, Leelo for a couple of days now and Mali for about 18 hours. Which would be great if they weren't now working on exorcising their illnesses through the other ends of their bodies.

Leelo woke up this morning covered in "soup" from knees to armpits. My first reaction upon unzipping him and discovering the mess inside his pajamas was to be grateful that I don't barf easily; the second was more gratitude, this time for our total jammie containment system; the third was even more gratitude, to Seymour for leaving the wipes in the bathroom; the fourth heaping of gratitude was because we were in the bathroom to start with--Leelo's mess couldn't have been cleaned up in any other room without significant collateral damage. I'll spare you (additional) details beyond stating that I used all the wipes on hand, put Leelo straight into the bath, kneeled at the altar of the Diaper Genie, and then sealed the crap-saturated shirt in the wipes container for dealing with later.

I thought the container would seal in the smell, but no--the overload had just temporarily disabled my olfactory system. When I returned to our house after morning errands and kid-runs, I was greeting with a wall of Fresh Shit Stench. Which means that Iz's friend Marys had the same experience when she came over to carpool this morning, though she would never say anything. *Sigh*

Mali, even more my personal barnacle than usual when she's sick, has finally let me put her down. Time for some serious laundry and cleaning. My kids have enough to deal with without being the family whose house is "gross."

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