I know I’ve been gone too long.  I apologize.  But y’all, for real, it should be a drinking game on this blog.. everytime Sarah says “I have too many balls in the air” or “I’m so overwhelmed/overbooked/overtired”, we get to take three shots.

Well, at least that’s how I get through my day: three shots at a time.

Since I’ve been gone for a long time, I have decided to regail you with one of my less specatcular moments that occurred this last week.

Bryan and I have different quirks.  Most couples do.  Most couples enter the relationship with certain things.. standards, perhaps.. that they place emphasis on.  The other person may not agree.  For instance, I like my toilet paper to unroll to the front.  Bryan, for whatever reason, always loads it to unroll in the back. (He also does this with paper towels.) Another example: Bryan insists on the toilet seat being down when the toilet is not in use.

Before we continue, quick poll: how many of you keep the toilet seat down in between users?

I may have tried to accomodate this need for, like, say, maybe a week.  When we first started dating.  But it’s just something I couldn’t get behind.  It didn’t make sense to me.  Why put the seat down?  And more importantly, it if it was that crucial to him, why couldn’t I remember to do it?

My rationale was so explained to me this week.

Most of my nights this week have involved RACING to daycare to pick up Binja, RACING home to change him, SHOVING food in his mouth, and RACING back out the door to (insert evening activity here).  We’re home, at most, half an hour.  And since I started this new job, I usually haven’t had time to stop since noon.

So I ran in one night this week having to pee.  But when I entered the house, the thunder of my stomach warned me that my bowels HAVE REACHED DEFCON 5 PLEASE PROCEED TO TOILET IMMEDIATELY KTHANXBAI.

And boy, I was PUCKERIN’.  Seriously.

I put my child in his highchair (which was on the floor, so please don’t call DHS yet) and didn’t even buckle him in and then hurdled over the baby gate to our guest bathroom.  I call this bathroom “Friday’s bathroom” because his large-ass litter box and food bowls occupy it.  And he decided that he was hungry RIGHT THAT MINUTE and I nearly broke my neck trying not to break his.  I then decided to run the extra five feet to our bathroom so I could go in peace.

Yes.  I would not poop with the cat in the bathroom.  I need my privacy.

So I haul ass in my bathroom, flip up my dress, and plop down.  Just in time, because there was no pucker on earth that could have held it in.

And lo and behold.. my ass was cold.

BECAUSE THE FRICKIN’ SEAT WAS DOWN.

I POOED ON THE TOILET SEAT.

WHILE MY CHILD WAS IN A HIGHCHAIR, IN ANOTHER ROOM, UNRESTRAINED.

POO.  ON THE TOILET SEAT.

That deserves, like, eighteen shots.

And I took ‘em, too.