Will the POOP ever stop?

I walked into my bedroom Friday night to find this pillow on the floor. (Don’t worry, I don’t have exercise mats on the floor in my room … this was taken at the pillow’s new home … the garage.)

From the distance, I was like “Hmmm, what’s that pillow doing in here? And what is on it? That couldn’t be … no … that isn’t … SH*T!!!!”

So of course I scream for Dan, because this clearly happened on his watch.

Dan: That’s definitely Frankie. Frankie sh*t all over that thing.

Me: So you are saying you think Frankie balanced on this ball while doing his business. Or you think he moved around so he could crap on various different spots on it?

Dan: I don’t know! That’s definitely dog sh*t.

Upon further investigation, we noticed spots on the carpet where poop had previously resided. And then it became crystal clear what happened.

Me: Anabella, did Frankie poop?

Anabella: Yes, in your bedroom. I cleaned it up.

Me: (in my head) OMG, are you serious? You used a silk, Marge Carson pillow to roll up dog sh*t off the floor? WTF??

Me: (out loud) That was really nice of you to help clean up, Anabella. Next time, tell mommy or daddy and let’s use a paper towel, okay?

Anabella: (big, sweet smile) Okay, mommy.

Clearly, the poop is never going to stop. Ever since Anabella arrived, it has been a constant in my life … kind of like sunrises, Pinot Grigio and cussing.

And if you are wondering why I still have the Poop Pillow, it’s because my irrational mind is not totally convinced yet that it can’t be cleaned.

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