That's a harbinger of doom.
I was watching Forrest Gump, letting my own to toenails dry and texting with Laura when it occurred to me it had been some time since I saw the twins.That's when the smell hit me.
I'm endlessly amused by the names of the man soap available to me in the bathroom. I have to admit, it makes the poop-removal scrub down entertaining as hell sometimes. After I wash Charlie with dandruff shampoo I finish up with with a scrub singing along to the name of the soap "Desssssssperaaaado.....why don't you COME TO YOUR SENSES?"
I entertain the hell out of myself. It helps me forget that I'm washing my 12 year old because he still poops his pants. He laughs because I'm singing and getting wet. They laugh and dance around in the shower because it's fun.
Next child of course needs the same attention but this time it's time for the smell of "Goddamn dirty hippies" as my Dad would say. AMBER. A patchouli something or other smell goes all over Miles to remove the horrible poop and pee that's been there too long smell.
I'm a bad parent. I can't believe I left them so long without changing them. "OHHHH AMBER IS THE COLOR OF YOUR ENERGY!!!" I sing. (That's the only line I know from that song because I'm not a goddamn dirty hippie.)
Oh fuck off that's a joke.
Now they're clean and one smells like a guy who's been out riding fences and the other like that dirty hippie thing but I've got to say, despite all the poop scrubbing and soapy singing it's still been a pretty good day. Now take that into account and look at my face.
You want no part of a bad day.