In my family, the sh** hit my husband.
|This is a BEFORE picture.
|Does this face make you think of anything?
In a matter of seconds, my daughter, my two year old, and my husband rounded the corner of aisle 18 moving at break neck speed. My husband spotted me and screamed:
"I'm covered in poop! I'm covered in poop! I've got poop all over me!"
In case I didn't believe him (and who could doubt such a proclamation), he held up his arm, his navy blue blazer decorated with, you guessed it, sh**!
The baby also had poop in some unusual places.
We double-timed to the bathroom. My husband had been forced to abandon the cart. "There's poop on the floor!" he told me, his eyes tearing with mortification.
My husband and I always argue about having another child. I want one. He doesn't. At that moment, he turned to me and said:
"This is not helping your argument."
Here's hoping that YOU don't have a sh***y day and that for this election day we all get just what we want.