I started itching as I carried Belle home. As I rubbed my itchy eyes in the dark, I could feel them swell slightly. I destroyed my up do with the intensity of the itching to my scalp. I asked God to get us home quickly and safely. As we neared home, I could feel myself begin to pass out. I grabbed hold of a tree to steady myself. It was the same tree I'd held onto as I laboured with Belle. I could see the black spots taking over my eyes as I approached my walkway. I collapsed at the front door and crapped my pants. I managed to find the keys, free a crying Belle, who had also just pooped, from the Moby and stumble inside. I threw myself onto the couch and weakly called a girlfriend in Pennsylvania.
Belle followed me into the bathroom downstairs, where I'd gone to pull myself together. My "Make Love, Not War" pants were ruined. I had poop stuck on one foot. I also had a crying, stressed out toddler I had zero compassion for. Regardless, I picked Belle up and took her upstairs to the bathroom with the tub. I turned the water on full blast and stepped in while still fully dressed. I even had the Moby still tied onto me. I just lay there in the bath, the green dye from my skirt bleeding into the hot water. Belle calmed herself by grabbing her plastic teapot and holding it under the facet to catch the water. When the water ran cold, and I felt better, I undressed myself and stepped out of the bath. I had to recover quickly. Belle still needed to be changed and put to bed. I didn't realise she'd also pooped until I opened her diaper. I gave Belle a shower and she went right to bed as soon as we got there.
We woke up this morning with nary a trace of illness. I have cleaned up most of the mess. I had poop on my handbag and tote bag, not to mention my shoes, the welcome mat and the concrete near the door. My train had completely derailed last week when I found myself stressed. I have walked away from the source of stress. Here's to good health and a better week.