Poop Machine

Did you read the title? Why are you still reading this?  Close out your browser and go back to checking Facebook incessantly, even though you know there isn't anything noteworthy happening there. Ever.  I digress.   Gene told me not to give too many details but now is not the time to start taking Gene's advice.

Let me back up a bit and tell you what my typical Monday/Tuesday is like.  Monday after work Gene drops me off at Trader Joe's and I do our grocery shopping while he picks up Violet from daycare.   We get home around 6:45 pm and after putting away the groceries and feeding and bathing the kids I keep swearing that I will cook dinner for the week.  This of course never happens.  Tuesday is when I hand over both kids to Gene and I go into heavy duty cooking mode.  This Tuesday I made the following:

- Baked Salmon with a honey, mustard and garlic glaze
- Yukon Gold potatoes with butter and scallions
- Sweet and Sour Pork with vegetable stir fry (onion, mushrooms and asparagus)
- Spicy Soyaki Wings
- Turkey Nuggets (for the kids)

That level of detail wasn't really necessary and has nothing to do with the story, but I really miss my food blog.

So as I am cooking all the dishes, Gene is bathing the girls.  Suddenly, I hear Gene scream, "Nooooooo!!!"  I drop the ground turkey meat and run to the bathroom with my hands dredged in bread crumbs.  Violet is standing naked by the tub and Gene is holding Ivy in midair.  I look into the tub and what do I see?  You guessed it.  Poop.  Lots and lots of poop.  Why oh why do these things happen at all the wrong moments.  We grabbed the kids and ran to the master bathroom all the while thinking about how our children are probably covered head to toe in poop particles.  This is the part where Gene would probably say, "Why do you need to go into such detail?" I jumped into the shower with Violet and held Ivy (almost dropping that slippery baby like 3 times) and washed them off as quickly as possible, which wasn't easy since Violet cried the entire time about the water hurting her eyes.   Once done, I had to go back to cooking and then cleaning the kitchen.  It wasn't until 11pm that I was finally done with everything and was able to treat myself to a glass of wine and some much needed brain numbing Bravo programming.  This grown-up business is no picnic.