Poo On My Leg

I am 26 now. As of yesterday to be exact. My birthday as a wife was wonderful and I spent the day with hubby, culminating with some delicious steaks courtesy of my mom and step-dad.

I awoke this morning, ready to go back to work after my mini-vacation that included sitting around and eating Hershey's Perfect Chocolate Cake slices. However, the start of my 26th year began with a...splatter. On my foot area.

My darling Jake climbed up in our bed for his morning snuggles, but I was definitely not ready to get up quite yet...my hair was washed and I was set to wear it in a pony tail and preppy headband so I could get a few (30) minutes of sleep in before having to face the corporate world once again...and Jake snuggled up beside me. And started twitching. I thought it was just me...that the Hershey's cake had made me even fatter and he was twitching so he wouldn't fall off the side of the bed. I was oh so wrong. I heard a fart and then felt something warm, wet, and heavy fall upon my lower appendage. And the smell. Oh. my. dear. God. The smell.

You know that scene in "Home Alone" where the parents sit straight up in bed and start yelling? That kind of happened at our house this morning. I sat up, looked down at my leg, and, if I had had anything in my stomach, would have barfed all over my OTHER foot. What a way to start off the day, I tell ya. I screamed at Chad, who sat straight up out of a dead sleep and started freaking in his usual Chad way. I hobbled to the bathroom to get the pile of poo off my foot.

I left Chad cleaning up crap as I literally ran out the door to escape the stench and the pitiful looks my Lab was giving me. Starbucks was calling my name. I needed to start 26 off the right way...and that did NOT include a poo pedi.