The "S" Word

This is the story of how I died.  Not really but I thought a dramatic beginning was important.  It is the story of how I was pooped on.  Regan is sort of potty training, as in I let her wear panties until she has an accident, I don't make her wear panties unless she wants to, etc.  Today she wanted to and I was all cool with that.  She peed before our walk, stayed dry and pooped in the potty when we got back.  We ran a long errand, she stayed dry and peed when we got back.  Great job, yada yada.  And then while sitting at the table she took a giant shit in her panties.  If its in a diaper or the toilet its poop, anywhere else its shit.  I remained calm, we went to the bathroom and began the process of slowly pulling the little panties off and stepping through them without getting any shit anywhere or all down her legs, success!  We were headed for the big dump in the toilet when it happened.  Jack was there as an inquiring spectator and procurer of toothbrushes and to save him from grabbing this shit filled pair of panties out of my hands (and creating a big mess) I let go of one side and the big pile of shit fell on my foot.  I laughed and eewwwwed and cleaned Regan up.  I could feel it in between my toes trying to squish its way through them!  Gross!  I've washed my foot 3 times and I still have that squish sensation haunting me.  Regan is now in a diaper and I'm really thankful I took my super cool shoes off before I had gone in there.  That would have really sucked.  If you can't handle the s word, don't have kids because man they are full of it!