Poop Face

It always happens when I decide to be productive. Something bad, that is.

It started when I decided to clean house. I had just gotten back from Walmart (try going at 8:00 am; the quality of people is surprisingly less than troll-like and more human-friendly. Well, not really. But maybe since I was more tired I was less inclined to notice the 400 lb woman wearing biking shorts...). I was going to vacuum, mop floors, wipe counters, and eat oreos. You know, basic house-wife crap, and Rip was going to watch. Rip was sitting in his bumbo on the counter, chewing and trying to inhale my grocery list via slobber, to which I decided that you can always make a new grocery list and you cannot always eat oreos uninterrupted. So I was chewing and Rip was chewing and we were both fairly content. Well, there's only so long a baby can enjoy a grocery list before he decides that eating the words 'milk, cereal, bread...' does not actually constitute eating the real thing, and so Rip started to cry and whine. I ignored it for a while, but really, it started to get louder and the oreos lesser. So I picked up baby and headed to the bedroom to put baby down for a nap. I smelled poop and so I bent my head down, and without looking, put my face up to his bum to smell and see if what I was smelling was indeed poop. It certainly was. And there was certainly so much poop, that my face now was covered in poop, along with my hands, and everything else making contact with baby, including my grocery list. The baby had basically just pooped on my face. This was kind of like the last straw, except that it really wasn't, since he will undoubtedly poop on my face again, and I still am not allowed to spank him (I guess he's too little or something? I dunno, the logic confuses me too).

As I sat down later and contemplated the events of the day, I started getting confused. When did this happen to me? When did my face start getting pooped on? When did I start going to Walmart at 8 am and start considering buying clothes there? And most importantly, when did I start eating oreos at 9 am? I'm like an alcoholic. I'm disgusting. No wonder the baby decided to poop on my face. My life is definitely different than what I had imagined as an 8 year old. What happened to owning my own zoo and letting all the animals out of their cages for walks? And what about turning into an Indian so I could live in a tepee and ride horses all day (inspired by Dances with Wolves)? Nope. I'm getting pooped on and going to Walmart instead. At least I still have half a bag of oreos left...