shit

so today we had ella's 20 month physical with the doctor. of course there was an incident to accompany it. we walked there, because it's close and also because it was 72 degrees outside. we get into the waiting room and ella runs over to the kid table and chairs and says, "shit!" nice and loud to butch. i was talking with the receptionist and turned around and said, "what did she say!?" he looks at me and said smirking, "sit. she wants me to sit in the chair." oh, okay....phew. (however, it still came out 'shit' instead of 'sit' and she kept repeating it over and over in the waiting room.)  a few minutes later, butch walks over to where i was sitting and whispers in my ear, "i think she did shit. her pants. i smell something." so i walk over do the old peek in the back of the diaper trick. no shit in the pants. 

moments later, we are called back to the examination room. the rooms at this doctor's office are tiny. they have 2 chairs, an exam table, a sink, and a rolling stool for the doctor crammed into a 7x5 rectangle. tight squeeze. anyway, we were sitting there waiting for the doctor and i start smelling something awful. i exclaimed, "what is that smell!?" butch says, "see! i told you something smells!" so i check ella again. nothing. i sit back down in the chair just as butch crosses one leg over the other exposing the bottom of his flip flop. there, on the bottom of his shoe...is a massive pile of smashed, steaming, smelly dog shit. (inevitably from our walk) i said, "look at your shoe!!!" he looks down and proceeds to say, "oh my god! it's me! i'm the one who smells!" (laughing his head off, of course) he grabs a paper towel and wipes the shoe the best he can....and then proceeds to throw the paper towel in the trash can, that is also located in the 7x5 room. the entire room at this point smells like dog shit. it was a smell like no other. and we could not stop laughing.

ella was sitting on the floor in her diaper playing with my keys...unaware of the incident that had unfolded. butch and i were convulsing with laughter at this point because we knew damn well that the doctor was going to swing open the door to that doll sized room and be hit smack in the face with a wall of dog shit. somehow, though, we composed ourselves. a few minutes later, the door swung open, the doctor walked in and ella who was sitting on the floor looked at the doctor, pointed to the two of us (who were sitting in the chairs) and said...(you guessed it)..."shit!" i then had to explain (through laughter, because butch was just about having a seizure at this point) that a. none of us had shit our pants. b. my husband had stepped in dog shit on the walk there and c. our daughter was saying 'sit' not 'shit. the doctor laughed, but i could tell by her face that she didn't want to deal with our shit. any of it. (fail.)