This is what I think happened and I believe you now.
Your mom got up to use the bathroom (that’s when I heard the walker) as she crossed the hall to the BR.
Then your dad got up and left his room to either use the bathroom or come downstairs to eat.
I think he was the one who pooped in the hallway and then came downstairs. I heard him go into the kitchen and open the refrigerator door(I think)? then he came into the living room and stood in front of the sliding glass doors that lead into the patio room and began to look out them (I assumed at the time he was looking for the dog in the backyard.) He was unaware that I was sitting in the recliner at the other end of the LR and I didn't say anything to him as I watched to see if he was going to yell at or torment the dog in some way (as he is sometimes inclined to do). As I sat and watched him stare out the glass door I began to smell something bad - rotten really. I remembered that you said that your dad was not taking frequent showers and so I thought that was what it was and made a mental note to tell you that he needed to be talked to about this. He didn't say or do anything while standing at the doors so I started looking down at my laptop (and put my earphones on) and I still never acknowledged him. It wasn't too much longer when I happened to look up and over to see him at the top of the stairway in the hall looking down me blathering away as he made some wild hand motions. To hear him I took off the EP's and he was saying something like, "______what is it? I just don't.....It's all over." So then it all begins.
I make my way to the stairs and the stench is unbelievable. I immediately see it - smeared poop tracked on the HW floors of the dining room, stairs and upstairs hallway. 2/3's of the way down the hallway was a huge pile of semi-formed dark glistening poo. Your dad started talking about the dog being the culprit. Now the dog was outside at the time, but you know that the dog can open the sliding glass doors when they are not completely shut and they are generally left open a crack because we have the oxygen tubing going out to the concentrator in the PR as it generates too much indoor heat. Anyway as I am approaching the stairway to walk up the stairs the dog has gotten back inside and runs over to the stairway and smells then begins to lick the poop smears. They were more like "globby smears" - SICK. I then begin screaming at the dog and grabbed her all the while telling your dad to "Hold on" I will be back. I took the dog and sorta "tossed" her back out through the now open sliding glass doors, but she was too fast for me and ran back inside and returned to the poop. I then chased her down again at the stairway as she resumed eating that nasty poop and again I tossed her into the PR and made sure that the door could not be opened by the dog again. You have to understand all the while your dad is yammering away about this mess and asking how it happened and insinuating that the dog which had been outside was responsible. I make it upstairs and see that the entire track of poop originates at the door to your dads room. It goes down one side of the hallway continuing down the stairway through the kitchen and into the LR (again what was perplexing was that the big pile was in between your mom's and his room.) I knew something was up because this didn't smell like dog poop. We have a 20 pound dog and there was 2 plus pounds of poop in the hallway and no poopy paw prints. In my mind despite what your dad is talking about - I knew the dog didn't do this - I knew I didn't do this.
As your dad is giving me his best gibberish all of the sudden your mom opens the door to leave the bathroom and cross hallway to go into her room. Well she can't do this without stepping into the mess. Your dad calls out to her to watch out or something like that and as we both well know that many times neither one of them will pay attention to the other or us and will just continue on doing their thing. However, she does pay attention and now both of them are hemming and hawing about the poo. I try to regain control. I plead with them to not move or just slowly and cautiously go back to their bedrooms, but it is to not working. They are literally walking in it - your mom's oxygen tubing is in it - the walker is in it.
Your mom kind of gets quiet and then she begins to move rather quickly. I then see that she has gone back into the bathroom and retrieved a roll of TP and I tell her "stop" I will clean it up but she won't listen. I feel I have to get some supplies and begin to clean or they are going to try to help me and make it worse. I run down to the kitchen and begin to look for a roll of towels and spray cleaner, but no - you don't store them there. After all our conversations about not having 409 or something like it in the kitchen you still continue to store stuff - yes - upstairs in a closet at the end of poop filled hallway. So I have to run back upstairs. Both of your parents are still in the hallway - and in the way. I see that your mom has attacked and removed the big pile and she tells me as I am running past that she thinks that she has stopped up the toilet with it. In the meantime I ask your dad to get out of the hallway and into his bedroom. I can't find the real cleaning stuff, but I find window cleaner and a roll of paper towels so I begin to use it. Your mom is watching me as she too is wiping poo from the floor with TP and she says, “your using windex that won’t work”. I was like, really, do you think I don’t know that it is not the first choice among mothers for cleaning poo, but in my mind I am thinking – your daughter whom you raised doesn’t believe in having real cleaning stuff on hand. Sorry, but no matter what I am thinking is that I just want this mess off the floor and if I have to use a broom soaked in toilet water I will use it.
Ok, so I am trying to get your mother to stop cleaning the floor (the woman is on 7 liters of O2) as I am trying to clean it. I then hear your dad yell from his room that, “the dog has got poo all over his bed”. Now I know this isn’t true because the dog is outside and never made it that far down the hallway when she got back in through the sliding doors. Meanwhile your mom has stopped cleaning and made her way down to the kitchen. I couldn’t believe it. I thought what is she doing down there tracking poop all over. She then tells me she was hungry but after seeing poop on the kitchen floor she can no longer eat. I am flabbergasted. I am thinking, “woman, you just cleaned up a pile of it in the hallway, complained that I didn’t have the proper cleaning solution and then instead of going into your room you decide you want something to eat right in the middle of it all. I look at the oxygen tubing and there is a section of tubing covered in the stuff. I tell her that we need to get new tubing and to go sit down in the dining room and let me try to get a hold on things around here.
Now, your mom gets really quiet all of the sudden and then she says to me, “----- I think the dog found my poop in the trash and drug it around the house.” I said, “what”? She then goes on to explain that yesterday she was constipated and didn’t want to tell anyone so she donned gloves and “dug it out” and placed the fecal matter in a garbage bag that had been removed from the trashcan and was lying next to the can in the kitchen. I then tried to explain to her that although it may be true that she did this yesterday (news to me!) the bag has not been there in the kitchen all morning (as you later told me that you removed it and put it in the curb container last night (unaware of the poop inside) therefore the dog could not have pulled it out. I then told her that I had just been down the same hallway 20 minutes before this all started. NO poo, NO trash bag in sight when I did this. She insisted that this must have been how "it" all happened, but she is perplexed on where the dog would have taken the gloves she had worn. Now when she stated this and along with her quiet change of attitude I began to suspect her of being the one to poo in the hallway. I felt she was making a sort of halfway confession. It didn’t matter to me who did it, but during this ordeal I did suspect her because she had had that one accident awhile back. I didn’t suspect your dad because although he does have a history of unexpected BM’s (like the one in our van a few years ago in the McDonalds parking lot) the whole scenario “seemed” to point to your mom and with this admission of yesterdays activities I thought ok it’s her but she is still embarrassed.
About that time you called me and stated that you are on your way home for lunch. I hated to tell you about this, but… Now your mom continued to say it happened like she said it did, but don’t tell your dad. I continue to say that it didn’t hoping that she just confesses. Meanwhile your dad is bellowing from his room more about the poo on his bed and now it’s on his clothes. As I head back up the stairs I see him walking in the still uncleaned hallway undressed with his clothes and bedding in his arms making his way to the washing machine. I tell him to just wait while I get the hall cleaned up. He doesn’t of course and then begins to tell me that he doesn’t think a little dog could poo that much and that there was wasn’t any paw prints. I’m thinking – ok – first you blame the dog now you are implying that it couldn’t have so…. As he continues talking I see that he is hinting at that it is your mom that is to blame. Ok, we are now on the same page, but just get out of the hall and let me clean. He then informs me that I should use the “swifter thing” that you use to clean the floors. After hearing that I kind of sink inside because I have now gone through a whole roll of towels bending over cleaning this mess when I could have used the disposable mob wipes (I thought you were opposed to using them?) I obviously don’t pay attention to your cleaning methods.
So now I get him back into his room and here comes your mother up the stairs telling me she has to take her medicine and it is in her room. I am like “really”? You couldn’t stay downstairs sitting at the DR table until I finished cleaning the hallway. Now the filthy socks shes wearing as well as he nasty O2 tubing is headed back up the stairs. I am literally spraying the smears to keep them from drying so I can have time to get to them. And there are many smears as older people take smaller steps making more of them and more work.
So your mom makes it into her room and I hear her cry that there is poo all over her carpet. So I take a look and yes there is. Great. I am thinking I don’t know how she did it but she stepped in her poo in the bedroom before it actually rolled out of her pants in the hallway. But how?...?...? Really I am too busy to care, but I continue to think about it and then….
You show up. I give you more of the lowdown – you are expecting more of the mess but I have been working fast and furious and have the bulk of it wiped up by now. You go upstairs to assess the situation and speak with your parents. I go downstairs only to hear you quizzing your father about the dirty clothes and bedding in the washer. I become incensed because I had told you that your mother was the one who did this, but I hear you ask your dad if he did it. To me you were questioning my judgment and I am sorry but we did have words about this. You begin to tell me that you really believed that your dad did it and that he was lying and manipulating it to make it look like your mom did it. You said that your mom’s clothes were unsoiled but that you dad’s were. I said it was because he stepped in it and then got it on his bed. You said that there was too much poo on his clothes in the washer for it to have been transferred there by his feet. You said that he had been drinking milk earlier in the morning and having a lot of gas. Also you pointed out that as we were cleaning you saw him holding his stomach and headed back into the hall bathroom. You admitted that your mother was confused but said you witnessed that she was wearing the same clothes she had on when you left for work this morning and that there was also no poo on the bathroom floor when your mom came out of it – there should have been.
As I was shampooing (no pun) the carpets I reflected on the events and I have come to agree with you. I believe that your dad intended to go to the bathroom, but your mom was in it. As he was in the hall he “more than farted” he maybe didn’t realize it (the older I get the more I can see this happening) and then it comes out down his leg etc. He then goes into your mom’s room – why? Don’t know. Then he makes his way downstairs trying to figure out what to do – he probably thinks I am in bed as it is 1100 and can get away with blaming the dog. He thinks the dog is in the house, but no I have put the dog out and the dog doesn’t come in view from where he is standing at the sliding glass doors– so his story is not going very far. He must have seen me after I began to look at the laptop again. He then gets to the top of the stairs and calls out to me and starts blaming the dog even though it was impossible for the dog to do this. He needs to do this as a stall tactic until he is sure that I am convinced it is not the dog and he can interject that he doesn’t think it is the dog either - therefore incriminating his wife – your mother. I talked with your mom and let her know that I think it is your dad that did it. She asked me to not say anything to him.
BTW they are both in their respective rooms watching tv like nothing happened, while I am scarred for… at least a few days anyway. One more thing, I hesitate to mention this but your dad walked out a little bit ago as I was typing this. He was wearing a robe and holding a corn cob (no corn on it). He exited through the sliding doors went outside and later came back in with the corn cob with him – I didn’t ask questions.
PS I love having your parents live with us I really do - do
Submitted July 23, 2015 at 03:39AM by gordfff http://ift.tt/1VwDKue mildlyinfuriating
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