I have my own theory of relativity. I got back from a party tonight and remembered that my jeans had been splattered all down the backs of the legs. With chocolate milk. See, it could have been a lot, lot worse. I could have gotten back from the party and realized I had the same thing on my pants as yesterday. In FACT, the same pants that I was wearing when I got pooped on yesterday but cleaned it up really well (GROSS! TMI! DO MY LAUNDRY! In my defense, I've been doing a LOT of cleaning up laundry lately, I had JUST done it, {Rather, Mike had just done it} and I was running late. Don't judge).
At least I THOUGHT I'd cleaned it up really well, 'till I saw the back of them when I got home from spinning this morning. And then I was trying to remember all of the places I had worn them, and wondering WHY Lauren hadn't TOLD me I had POOP ON MY PANTS. Maybe no one noticed. Riiiight. Ah well.
Which reminds me of this blog post Lauren shared with me a while back:
That's Not Chocolate
Tee hee hee. Pretty much one of my favorite blog posts EVER. Don't you feel better about your day? And mine?
3 Comments:
Hang on. WHEN did you have poop on your pants? When we went spinning? Cause I didn't even see it. I did see the chocolate milk on your jeans, but only as you were just walking out of the party, so I figured I'd let it go. :) LOVE!
p.s. It was probably because of the poopy pants that our bottoms hurt so bad. It's the most logical explanation.
1. I hope you saw my Maximillion boy at the Rec Center.
2. I didn't notice the poop on your pants.
3.My bottom hurts too. :)
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