We are stuck in a world of poop and puke. (When I say "we", I mean my husband and I "we", not you and I "we"...)

If it isn't Ella pooping or puking, it's one of the dogs and/or cats. It's so bad that you step in cat vomit on your way to throw away a poopy diaper. I change the baby, go throw her diaper away, and go back to pick her up only to find that she's pooped AGAIN (and she finds it very funny when I say, "YOU POOPED AGAIN!")

WHAT IS UP AT OUR HOUSE?!? I mean, are we under some POOPY-PUKEY full parenting/pet owner moon that I knew nothing about until now (or that people don't warn you about until you know the poopy-pukey secret handshake)?!?! It's REALLY wearing on our nerves, let me tell you. Ella belly laughs now whenever I say, "POOPY-PUKEY, POOPY-PUKEY, THAT'S ALL IT IS HERE! POOPY-PUKEY!" (yeah, way funny, kid, thanks).

A few nights ago, as I was TRYING to get some work done, I hear one of the cats hacking up a fur ball in the hall, while the dogs danced their pee-pee (poopy) dance at the back door. I sigh really loud and yell from my office, "TODD! One of the cats is puking and the dogs need to go out to poop!"

He appears around the corner with a poopy diaper in his hand and pleads, "Come on! I just changed a poopy diaper!"

To which I reply?

"What is THAT?!?! The DIAPER DEFENSE?!?!"


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