Kind of a Crappy Morning

Actually, the night before wasn't that great, and that is what ushered in yesterday's crappy morning. Sometime around 3:00 AM on Friday, JG - the 6 year old - crawled into bed.

Let me interject that as a mom of four, it is not unusual for a kid or two to wander into our bed in the middle of the night. Sure, my sleep is disrupted, but I sympathize because I remember having vivid nightmares as a kid that sent me running and screaming all the way to my mom and dad's room. Typically when one of our kids wants some cuddles, I move to the middle of the bed and lay there until daylight like a mummy entombed by people might.

So I lay there still and silent like any mummy would, and then the littlest daughter wandered into our room. Now there were four people in our bed. After about an hour of me rolling around the bed, repositioning the children, and trying to find a slice of space, I finally gave up and went to sleep on the couch.

Of course, Poetroad slept through the whole thing.

The alarming part of the story is what I discovered in our bed the next morning...

Something brown and squishy that leaves skid marks. Go ahead - take your best guess. The worse part about the discovery was that the skid marks and the deposit were in the very spot I was rolling around in during the wee hours of the morning.

Of course, I did what any parent would in this situation: I totally freaked out.

And I went on a mission to root out (and possibly clean up) the offender. I was certain that it came from our three year old as she is the only one potty training in our house. I checked her pants - nothing. Then I checked the other of the two little bed-mates - not even a hint of brownness.

I didn't even want to venture there with Poetroad; besides, he was still asleep. Instead I looked in the toilet - ah ha, a piece of brown-streaked toilet paper. Who used our toilet in the middle of the night? It wasn't me, so that left only one other possibility in my mind.

Still, I wondered if possibly a nugget could have fallen from our three year old's pants. Could her pull-up have pulled to the side in her sleep? Did she somehow miraculously mess her pants and clean up the evidence herself? No - couldn't be. So, again, that narrowed it down to Poetroad.

When he woke up - all the while I was frantically packing lunches, serving breakfast, and managing the normal morning chaos - I blurted out, "You pooped the bed."

"What?!" he sleepily questioned.

"There is poop in the bed. The girls didn't do it. I didn't do it. A dingle ball must have fell off when you were sleeping."

"No. No! What are you talking about?"

"I cleaned up poop from our bed this morning. None of us did it. It must have been you," I accused. "You must have went poop in the middle of the night and not wiped very well."

"Uh, no. I think I would know if I pooped in the middle of the night."

"Uh, apparently you would not know."

Quietly and obviously annoyed with me, he went back into the room. Only to come out moments later to declare, "That's not poop. That's chocolate. Who ate chocolate in the bed last night?"

"Oooops. We did. Sorry. You should have seen the log, though. Melted and squished peanut M&Ms really look like a nugget of poo. Nevermind then. Apologies all around."

And that was that.