That's the Last Straw

The Culprit

Well, today I left around 2 pm to go pick Pods up from school. Dad stayed home with the boys who were napping. When I returned home, dad went upstairs to release the rascals from their holding cell. A terrible odor quickly filled the hallway and I could barely enter the room to inspect any damage. Meanwhile, dad cleaned up the behinds. Now, I must cut him some slack because he has four inch stints up his nostrils from his polyp-removal surgery last week. I know he has no sense of smell and you NEVER gripe about a man who changes a diaper-especially and foul smelling one. He did a splendid job of giving them back their little shiny hiney's. However, he somehow missed the chocolate on Frijole Man's hands. Frijole Man had a little boo-boo and needed a little TLC, so of course, I pick him up and lay his head on my shoulder. He's my little lover and very tenderly starts running his fingers through my hair. I didn't notice his hands, but I did notice the odor that followed me everywhere. That's when I traced it back to the source. Of course, I'm already running late while trying to get Kathryn to ballet. No time to clean it, so I just had to tie it up in a bun and take off, with the windows down of course. It wasn't caked in my hair, just lightly brushed through. I'm not going to tell you that it's now 9:50 pm and I'm still sitting here with a bun in my hair. I have priorities and the blog came first. I'm off to the shower now....and the hair will be gone soon.