(no pun intended)
So during my Sunday afternoon rest, I hear this:
"Mom, Sarah pooped in her panties."
Ugh, I think to myself.
Then I walk into the hallway, and there is my 3 year-old washing her own panties out in the toilet.
Ouch. I think I have been too hard on her. She didn't want to incur my wrath, so she'd thought she would take care of it herself.
(I won't mention the fact that I stepped in the poop on the bathroom floor and unknowingly tracked it all over the carpet upstairs...)
I think I'll ground myself. For a year. That actually sounds relaxing.
On a good note, there weren't any accidents outside of the house today! Thank goodness for tender mercies!