Originally posted on Sarcastic, Funny and Brutally Honest on May 19, 2009.
You know, before you have kids nobody tells you the truth about being a mom. And by the “truth” I mean the amount of sh*t you have to deal with. R E A L shit.
Take for example my kid. He crapped in the backyard last week. IN THE BACKYARD. Why? Who knows. Well, the only one that really knows is him. But he’s not telling.
And don’t get me started on poopie diapers. I am so tired of changing poopie diapers. Who invented diapers? Sure, it’s convenient to not have sh*t in your backyard, but holy damn. Sh*tty diapers are the worst. Just take my word for it (if you’re not a mom). I can’t tell you how many times I’ve considered taking my kid to a gastrointestinalgynocolonist to examine his poop, cause man, this sh*t can’t be normal.
My kid came in the house this morning covered in dog shit. COVERED. IN. DOG. SH*T. I was so grossed out and he thought it was sooooo funny. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like a total amateur as I was sumo gripping his tiny little arm with one hand and ripping off his poo clothes with the other hand all while trying to cover my nose with my shoulder and not letting his grubby little shit hands touch anything.
I can honestly say that there is always some sort of poo particles on me at all times. Between the dog and the kid and the cats I am one big fat walking poo germ. It’s gross and I’m tired of sh*t.
Reading this almost exactly 3 years later is funny to me. With a daughter who is messier and sh*ittier than her older brother ever was and another baby on the way, this post is almost cute…in a “aw, she didn’t know what she had comin’ kind of way”. HA!