After a night of hardly any sleep, because of a teething almost one year old. I got a 5:30 am wake up call, from my sweet children asking if they could have a brownie. Um, no. GO.BACK.TO.BED! I spend the morning getting my kids breakfast and trying to pick up while Finn cries at my feet. I take a shower. I'm exhausted. 9:30 rolls around, Finn's nap time. Hallelujah. I quickly change his diaper, put Curious George on for Knox and decide to take a quick power nap. I'm lying in bed and I smell poop. Poop? Where is it coming from!?! I sniff my hands. No. I sniff my shirt, my blanket, my bed, I rub my face to see if it is on there, I run my fingers through my hair to...oh...NOO!! (insert Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho stabbing music here, wraaa, wraaa, wraaa, wraaa)
Why yes, that is a turd stuck in my hair. How it got there? I don't know!! Maybe Finn pulled it out of his diaper, maybe it rolled out while I was changing him, maybe Knox thought it would be funny to throw a piece of poop into my bed. I DON'T KNOW! Does it surprise me that a piece of poop was stuck in my hair, no. Does it gross me out. Yes. I took another shower. After taking a picture and before blogging about this.
I'm going to go get a brownie.
Meanwhile...Finn is still screaming in his crib.
Sigh.
