Poop.

So tonight we have people over for the draft (competition through our business). 5:30pm comes and it is still stinking hot – the sky feeling like it’s only 2 feet above you and the air is thick with the promise of storm and smoky from fires.

The children should be having dinner to get ready for an early bed time but tattoodaddy and I don’t feel like tackling that particular mountain (or any at that point) and they are still outside on the climbing gym in their undies, pretending they are on jet skis.

Tattoodaddy and I talk about the things we need to clean. I need to get food ready and vacuum and I just can’t be bothered.

Suddenly a Dexter sprints past us both making a whimpering sounds as if in pain, tattoodaddy and I look at each other as if “what the fuck is going on” and then we hear each step he lands is echoed by a wet sounding fart.

We look at each other again.
Simultaneously look at the floor.
Look back.
Disgust.

There is a poop trail from my back door to my toilet.

Across my carpet, through my loungeroom, over my vacuum cleaner (and you know how they have the ribbed hosing…) into the bathroom and to the toilet.
And it is definitely not solid.

I hear “I’m sorry Mummy, I just didn’t have enough time.”
Followed with “Can you come here? There’s poo everywhere…”

And he is not lying.
In the bowl. Out of the bowl.
On the seat. On the toilet paper.
On his legs. His feet.
His arms.

I look at tattoodaddy who is still standing in the loungeroom alternating between glancing around in disgust and telling Lola to stay out while she enthusiastically tells us “Dexter did a poo!”

I look at the clock.
I have to take charge.

I grab the baby wipes because they are good for EVERYTHING.
I send tattoodaddy to the shop for carpet cleaner.
I start scrubbing.
I manage to get the most of it off the carpet, clean up the toilet and the floor in the bathroom and I’ve just finished spraying the carpet.

I look around and see the mess that is still needing to be tidied.
Prepared.

I think maybe we can do it.
Usually our customers turn up right on time – they know we have children we work around.

6pm.
Door knock.
The three new customers joining in tonight have arrived a whole hour early.

Thank god I had already scrubbed the poo off the carpet.

Thankfully they were quite content to sit and play games and didn’t stress about our kids.
They acted like a frazzled woman scrubbing fantically was something they see every day and truth be told – they have just finished their HSC so they are probably used to seeing their mothers do the same thing when preparing for guests while they still sit and play games.

But anyway.

The poo.

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