Crying Over Spilled Milk (Poop)

I want you guys to think of me when you have a bad day, then your day will seem so much better. I wake up on a Friday, like any other 19-year old teenager. "Yay, it's Friday fun time!" HA! No. Wrong-o! I get up out of bed and use the restroom (the night before was taco night). I went to flush, and it wouldn't flush. It's okay, I'm calm. I ask my "wonderful" husband to fix it. "Yeah babe, when I get up."

Two days later...

The toilet is still stopped up, and my husband is on the Xbox. I nag until he gets up to go get some tools to fix the toilet. My daughter is silent. Parents, when kids are silent it's bad, right? Hmm...Yeah. All the sudden I hear not one. Not two. No. No. Not two, but three flushes. I run for the bathroom. Once, I make it to the hallway I am ankle deep in taco-night-toilet-water. I freak out. I bet most wives can guess what I started doing. I began to splash through the water to find my clean towels while bending God's ear cursing my husband, who waited to fix the toilet. I laid down all my clean towels, dirty towels, and most of the clothing items in my apartment. That didn't help because by the time I soaked up the water in the bathroom my daughter's room was flooded. Oh, but believe you me, a toilet overflowing with taco water was the least of my worries.

It's Sunday. That means we can't get anyone out to fix the toilet, but it at least stopped overflowing. Since it stopped overflowing I picked all the wet laundry out the floor, and you'll never guess what happened next. My washer hose busted! Yes! So now my washer flooded. It's okay. I'm just a little frustrated. I decided that my 3-year-old daughter shouldn't be in a mostly flooded apartment, so I pack her a diaper bag. I get her in her car seat. Then, I get in the driver's seat. Then, once again, you'll never guess. The vehicle wouldn't start. Great so I have to call my dad and get jumped off. Later that day I find out from my mother in law that I have to faulty parts in my vehicle that I can't afford to fix. Yay. So I ask my husband, who is on the Xbox, again... "Babe, help me, please. I can't do this by myself." He replies, "In a minute, babe."

The next day...

Husband has yet to go to bed or get off the Xbox. I call a plumber. OUCH! My wallet hurts! Then, I order parts online for the vehicle. AHHH! My wallet is screaming in pain. Next, I drag my daughter to Walmart, because my husband was too busy doing important stuff (playing video games) to go. I grab a washer hose, and it fits. Yay! I proceed to clean up the rest of the water with what clothes I have left. Then, wash them.

It's ten o'clock. Yay! I can go to bed. Nope. Wrong again! It's time to clean. I started cleaning. I guess you could say I was pretty stressed. Have you ever heard the expression crying over spilled milk? While cleaning I found a child-poop in my best laundry hamper. No, not a regular child poop, it was a child-poop explosion. I smelled it. It's okay. I'm calm. Nope. Nope. I'm not. Nervous break down in 3, 2, 1... I burst into tears. "Crying over poop in a laundry basket." #MomLife. Poop in the basket.

My husband asked me what's wrong.

I say, "POOP IN THE BASKET"

Looking confused, he replies,"What?"

I say... pretty much sounding like my 3-year-old daughter, "POOP IN THE BASKET, my best BASKET. BROKEN VEHICLE. FLOODS. HELP PLEASE."

My emotions change, "YOU! XBOX! NOT HELP! I'LL SMASH!"

I all but turn green and hulk smash him. Then, he hugs me and says, "Aww, baby. I'm sorry I'm here now. What can I do?" and I say, "let me sleep." So I go to sleep because knowing my luck I'm bound to have the same type of day tomorrow.

P.S. Guys, I can super mom. I usually don't cry over poop, but I was stressed, my husband just lost his job. Then, we have these things happening where we have to spend the money saved for bills on vehicle parts and washing hose. I just wanted to shed some light on my awful day by sharing something relatable with all of you. Hopefully, some will find it funny. You know. Laugh at my pain. Smile. Have a great day!