The Best Laid Plans...

This morning was off to a good start. Deacon had allowed me to sleep in to 6:15. Awesome! My house was sparkling from marathon cleaning yesterday. I had even self-cleaned my oven. (Much to McKay's dismay, who said the smell "hurt her nose." An entire bottle of air freshener was used to remedy the situation.) And now I was pondering how to avoid entropy. Perhaps locking my children in the backyard or going to the library. Everything was going so wonderfully that I decided I had time to blow dry my hair before I took Parker to school. Deacon was happily watching PBS kids with Parker, so I told Parker to watch him and went upstairs.

My first indication that something was up, was when Deacon came crawling up to me. O.k. apparently Parker had not been so good at watching him. And apparently Deacon had learned how to climb an entire flight of stairs. Grateful he hadn't fallen backwards to his death (He is accident-prone.), I scooped him up and went downstairs.

And that's when I discovered that my problems were much bigger than an unsupervised baby. McKay was laying bare-bummed on the floor, happily watching t.v., with brown streaks extending from bottom to feet. In what could be only described as "diarrhea gone wrong" my house, especially my bathroom, had gone from immaculate to dumping zone.

Two baths and another can of air freshener later, I had all but the bathroom clean. With five minutes to get Parker to school, I told him to go brush his teeth. "Are you kidding me?" he asked. "There is NO WAY I'm going in that bathroom!"

New plan for day: De-toxify bathroom. Look for another baby gate. Find some kiddie Pepto.