You Did WHAT In My Floor?

Well I've been packing all day for our beach trip. Notice I didn't say loading the car. Just packing. Whether we will actually take everything I've packed remains to be seen. But that's not my problem. Not because I don't want it to be my problem, it's just that I'm no good at it. It's Andy's area of expertise. The man can work miracles when it comes to packing. He once got 8 dining room chairs in the back of an SUV. This skill, coupled with his cheap...I mean....frugal nature....allowed him to move the entire furnishings of our home two moves ago in one of those tiny U-haul trailers...you know...the ones that say "RENT ME for $9.99?" That entire move over 250 miles only cost $27.00, including gas. But I digress.

Trying to pack for a week long trip with two preschoolers under foot is like shoveling snow in a snowstorm. Raking leaves during a typhoon. Blowing up an air mattress with a hole in it. You get the picture. I would pack something, they would pull it out. I would open a cabinet in the kitchen, they would drag everything out. I'd put it back up, they would put something else back to replenish that spot on the floor with a random item. At one point in the kitchen I was stepping over a large Dora doll, about 30 zip loc bags, a Buzz Lightyear flashlight, an open container of Animal Crackers, a handful of raisins and Tina Turner.

I went looking for Andy to see if he could herd the cats outside or rent them to some gypsies for a few hours. I walked into my bedroom only to see a huge pile of...what I thought to be....DOG poop. In the middle of my bedroom floor! GROSS. Under my breath I'm saying "that !&*@ DOG" as Andy says "Look what your daughter did." About that time I realized that the !%^&@ dog had been at the kennel for two hours already. WHAT IN THE WORLD????? I found Catherine, sure 'nuf, running around sans diaper.

"Cath-e-rine. Did you poop in Mommy and Daddy's floor?"

"Ah-huh!" she stated very proudly.

"No, Ma'am. No poo poo in floor. Poo poo in potty! Not the floor. Good grief. Do you understand me?"

She just stared at me. Then she grabbed a fist full of raisins from the middle of the kitchen floor and crammed them in her mouth. Just what I wanted to see from someone who runs around with no diaper on.

Like our Jersey friends say....Whaddya gonna do?