The Poo-Shoe Blues
I just drove Colin to school. Late. With poop all over my shoe.
We were late because I had trouble getting out of bed, because this "morning sickness" thing - which is actually more like "morning-and-then-whenever-the-hell-else-it-feels-like-striking" sickness - is kicking my ass a little bit lately. And it seems like on the mornings when I try to jump out of bed the second my eyes pop open, my stomach is all, "Oh no you don't!" So I try to wait and just lay there a little bit, because sometimes - occasionally - that seems to help.
So this morning was one of those difficult mornings. Thank goodness it isn't a day when I have a 9 a.m. Zumba class to teach ... those are the hardest. Ick. Anyway, I managed to crawl out of bed almost twenty minutes behind schedule. When that happens, I only have time to get the boys ready, which means I drive to school in my pajamas, praying the whole way that I don't get in a fender-bender or have car trouble of some sort.
I was so behind this morning that I didn't even have time for shoes and socks. So I slipped on my mowing shoes, which were on standby in the garage. They look pretty much like these:
Except picture them, like, old. And covered with grass stains. And caked with dried poo. Because yesterday, when I mowed my yard for probably the final time this year, I stepped in the granddaddy of all piles. I mean seriously. I think it was pterodactyl poop. And while normally I can avoid stepping in poop while mowing, or at least just graze the perimeter of a turd, I wasn't so lucky yesterday. I stepped squarely in the center of this massive dump, and it squished up on both sides of my shoe. Yes, I spent the next fifteen minutes dragging my foot on the grass in an attempt to clean it off (I probably looked like Quasimodo mowing my lawn), but there's only so much cleaning grass can do. Then by the time I finished, I had to get in the house because Curtis was heading to work, so I didn't have time to give them a proper poo-purging.
So anyway. Here I was, loading the kids into the car, in my pajamas (a thin gray Adidas t-shirt and highwater workout pants and grungy mowing shoes, no socks). I got everybody buckled in and pulled out of the driveway. And then it hit me.
The smell.
Even dried dog poop stinks to high heaven, apparently. And when you're already battling morning sickness, and even normally-pleasant smells can send you into a fit of nausea, the aroma of poop is not your friend.
"What's that stink?" Colin demanded.
"I ... think there's ... poop on my shoe," I said, my throat constricting into a series of gags.
Please don't throw up please don't throw up please don't throw up please don't throw up
I gagged all the way to the school and back, y'all. When I pulled up to drop Colin off it was all I could do not to boot him out of the Jeep while it was still moving (and tell him to take my poopy shoes and deposit them in the nearest trash can). Thank goodness I managed to hold it together and not hurl all over my steering wheel.
Next time? I'll just be late.
We were late because I had trouble getting out of bed, because this "morning sickness" thing - which is actually more like "morning-and-then-whenever-the-hell-else-it-feels-like-striking" sickness - is kicking my ass a little bit lately. And it seems like on the mornings when I try to jump out of bed the second my eyes pop open, my stomach is all, "Oh no you don't!" So I try to wait and just lay there a little bit, because sometimes - occasionally - that seems to help.
So this morning was one of those difficult mornings. Thank goodness it isn't a day when I have a 9 a.m. Zumba class to teach ... those are the hardest. Ick. Anyway, I managed to crawl out of bed almost twenty minutes behind schedule. When that happens, I only have time to get the boys ready, which means I drive to school in my pajamas, praying the whole way that I don't get in a fender-bender or have car trouble of some sort.
I was so behind this morning that I didn't even have time for shoes and socks. So I slipped on my mowing shoes, which were on standby in the garage. They look pretty much like these:
So anyway. Here I was, loading the kids into the car, in my pajamas (a thin gray Adidas t-shirt and highwater workout pants and grungy mowing shoes, no socks). I got everybody buckled in and pulled out of the driveway. And then it hit me.
The smell.
Even dried dog poop stinks to high heaven, apparently. And when you're already battling morning sickness, and even normally-pleasant smells can send you into a fit of nausea, the aroma of poop is not your friend.
"What's that stink?" Colin demanded.
"I ... think there's ... poop on my shoe," I said, my throat constricting into a series of gags.
Please don't throw up please don't throw up please don't throw up please don't throw up
I gagged all the way to the school and back, y'all. When I pulled up to drop Colin off it was all I could do not to boot him out of the Jeep while it was still moving (and tell him to take my poopy shoes and deposit them in the nearest trash can). Thank goodness I managed to hold it together and not hurl all over my steering wheel.
Next time? I'll just be late.
I am so thankful to this day that I had no morning sickness with either child. Had I had it with Morgan, there probably have not been a Dallas. I have the "vomit phobia" and I just would have died! Poor Morgan, not a single gag with Drake and she did the green puking for months, even ended up in the hospital with it. Hope it will pass quickly. How far along are you?
ReplyDeleteYeah, that doesn't sound pleasant at all. Glad you succeeded in not barfing. 'Cause there is nothing worse than cleaning up barf of any kind. I am so happy to be over the "every smell makes me nauseous" phase, for the most part. And oddly enough, when I first woke up in the morning was when I usually felt best...it was the moment I tried to eat anything that sent it all downhill.
ReplyDeleteOh, poor thing :( You did so well! I would not have been able to hold that in, 'morning' sickness is the pits.
ReplyDeleteYou were so lucky the first 3 times. Morning sickness with Tom lasted all day. I had to work and spending half the day in the restroom didn't go over very well with the boss. Dr Young finally gave me something to help control it. I didn't want to take it, but when it came barfing all day or medication. Guess which one won out. With Jason no sickness' no nothing I felt fine. My body did a complete turn around. Thank God! Chasing Tom out of everything was enough without being sick all day. Hopefully you will stop in a few weeks. I finally stopped in my 5th month. Good Luck and the crackers did help.
ReplyDeleteDog poo is one of those smells (like gasoline on your shoe) that just permeates every inch of air in a one-mile radius. I can't imagine having to smell that while preggers!
ReplyDeleteI remember having to clean my dog's barf off the carpet when I was hugely pregnant. She had just ingested feral cat poop in my in-law's yard. Good times.
Ugh, that's a terrible smell for even the most iron-stomached to have to deal with, especially first thing in the morning! Hope the "morning" sickness passes soon for you!
ReplyDeleteOh man. I stepped in it last December when I was trying to put up Christmas lights outside in sub-zero weather. The thing is - we don't even have a dog. I became enraged and now spend all free time in sniper position on my roof waiting for one of those little furry bastards to make my day.
ReplyDelete