You know, if one person in this damn house gets sick you're guaranteed at least one more person is going to get it. But it is the same? Oh, hell to the no. It has to be different. Like exploding diarrhea. Where you're chasing a three year old around the house screaming leaky diaper! leaky diaper! must change the diaper! and does that three year old listen?
NO. He giggles instead.
And then you're forced to clean up piddles all over the floor and then people wonder why you don't have a dog and you're wondering why in the fuck you haven't pulled up all the carpet already to expose hardwood floors because in situations such as these, who really gives a fuck if the hardwoods aren't perfect? They are hardwood floors and not piddled-stained carpet that requires foamy chemicals to get clean instead of a damn damp cloth.
Anyway. Yesterday I decided I had to do something. You know what something is, right? That feeling of making something that is nearly instantaneous but functional and pretty because there's got to be something good in this miserable life of having your home smell like poo.
So I got out my hot glue gun (actually, I had to buy a new one because I couldn't find my other ones; I swear, my house feeds on hot glue guns) and some magnets and dumped out my jar of miscellaneous buttons.
Whew. Isn't that better?
I mean, it's not as great as not wiping a poopy butt 83 times in a day but hey, it's something, right?