The Great Poop Debacle, or A Mother's Day to Remember

My mother's day didn't start out remarkable. We go up, went to church, got Breakfast on the way. Had a good class, and, even though I had nursery duty, a good service as well. When we got home, Dustin stayed with the girls while I ran to the store to get pizza for lunch. Ran into a spot of trouble at the register when the items didn't ring up correctly, but no big deal. Even got to drive Dustin's new truck. And we had just enough money for a Redbox movie. So it was going okay.
We ate lunch and settled in to watch Battle for Terra. It was pretty good. Dustin and I were on the couch and the girls were in their room. A recipe for peace if there ever was one.
Then Faith came to me and said,"Poopy".
"That's okay. You can be poopy in your room," I said, since the movie was nearly over. After a brief struggle, she disappeared into her room. Or so I thought.
Less than five minutes later, she came back out, holding her foot funny and fussing.
"Go be poopy in your room," I told her. She laid her foot on the ottoman by Dustin's leg. There was a noxious brown substance on the bottom that my superior mother's brain identified immediately and with a sinking heart. Unfortunately, so did her father.
"That's POOP," he said with dawning horror. Did I mention that poop is apparently his Kryptonite? "Oh my god, that's so gross! That's - she got it on me! Eww! Eww!" I had apparently grabbed her foot a second too late and she had managed to smear excrement on his pant leg. He jumped up and began tearing off his clothes, which, under other, more delicate, circumstances would have been enjoyable, but in this instance, it merely sent me off in a fit of giggles. Which seriously impair your ability to hold a poopy foot, FYI. Barely maintaining my grip, I asked him to get me the wipes from the table.
As he passed us, pantless and pressed against the opposite couch, he complied and headed down the hall to our bedroom. By this time, Abby had joined me and Faith by the corner of the couch and at the same time he announced that Faith's diaper was in the hallway, I noticed that Abby's hands were poopy.
Then Dustin said in a voice that never bodes well, "DON'T PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN!!" I now had my hands full of wipes, poopy hands and feet and looked at him like he was crazy. Bear in mind that this undoubtedly looked ridiculous because I was still laughing. "I mean it," he said. "There's a huge turd under your foot!" That set off the giggles again!
Abby kept pulling her hands and I finally got Dustin to take her from me. The second I let her go, she promptly rubbed her head. Yay. He grabbed her arms and rushed her to the bathtub. I followed a bit more slowly with Faith because no way was I carrying her and I needed to clean her foot off.
In the bathroom, my beloved husband was struggling to undress his youngest daughter and still avoid the poop. I alternated between hysterical laughter and my evil mommy voice. You know the one. That step past sanity when it sounds exactly like the demon from the Exorcist is coming out of your mouth and you feel exactly like your mother must have when she sounded like that.
All I could think was, Mom is going to love this. It'll make her day for a year.
Dustin abandoned the field, saying, "I do throw up, you do poop! I do throw up, you do poop!" Like I'll ever let him live THAT down!
And to top it all of, the moment I set Faith down in the tub, Abby rubbed her hands in her sister's hair. Because gross, ain't gross enough. If this is what girls are like, boys are gonna kill me!
My mother did, indeed, love it. She told their entire church that evening, according to my younger sister. Happy Mother's Day, ha! LOL