One of the worst experiences in motherhood (aside from illnesses, injuries, etc. – the REALLY serious stuff) is getting two steps from the top of the stairs on your way to pick up your toddler from her nap (even though she was just awake the whole time) and you smell It.
That unmistakably rotten odor that seems to stick on every surface it wafts up against … you feel bad that your 3yo pooped her pants, because obviously there’s a bigger problem here you have to deal with, but mostly you’re just pissed that it’s you and only you who has to clean it up.
The second worst experience (again, aside from the really heavy stuff) is smelling all the blankets and stuffed animals on her bed to see what the war casualties are. Rotten indeed.
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