Tuesday, September 28, 2010

So, my dear friend at Diagnosis Urine is going to love this.  I think of you when I smell urine.  Which is quite often unfortunately.  Not unfortunately that I'm thinking of you but unfortunate at how often I smell urine.

I walked into my lower level this morning, passing the laundry room and smelled something so wrank.  I don't even know if rank is spelled with a W in the traditional form but if not, this smell in the laundry made WRANK earn it's W.  It wreaked...to high heavens as my grandma would say.  Holy mackerel.  Nasty.

I got to the bottom of it in quite a literal sense.  At the very bottom of the laundry basket was 2 VERY used Underjams and a knotted up hot mess of shorts, pjs and sheets that were all dripping in urine.  Not sure what happened last night in one of the boys' bedrooms but I almost vomited. 

Somehow I'm celebrating in all of this.  Why?  Someone has finally learned to clean up their own wet mess so I didn't have to strip the sheets.  We celebrate the little things around here.

1 comment:

  1. GROSS!!! And so familiar! I'm so impressed that the mystery pee-er stripped his own bed, though. WOW. I wonder when I can expect such a thing. My boys will get up and get towels or blankets to cover the pee spot, change their clothes, then go back to bed. Then the next night I'll grab their blanket off the bed to cover them, and discover a big stinky wet puddle and a soggy blanket. The timing is always convenient.