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Oh No: The Enigma of the Laundry Room Surprise
Once upon a time, I found myself staring in disbelief at a lone turd resting on my laundry room floor. A mid-sized nugget, it starkly contrasted with the smooth linoleum beneath it. I squinted at the offending object, mentally cataloging the inhabitants of my house: four little kids, two dogs, and two cats. Who could be the guilty party behind this… deposit? The only two I could completely rule out were myself and my husband, leaving the rest of the gang as possible suspects. No matter who had left it, it needed to be taken care of, so I sprang into action like a seasoned poop-cleaning pro. In the grand scheme of my adult life’s encounters with fecal matter, a single turd was just a drop in the bucket.
Yet, that was precisely what gnawed at me: one solitary turd, not a heap. And every parent knows that turds, much like cockroaches or mice, don’t typically appear solo. This troubling fact warranted further investigation. I conducted an extensive search of the laundry room and the entire downstairs area—an examination so thorough it would have impressed even the most seasoned homicide detective.
But I found nothing. No smears, no trails, no evidence to reveal the poop’s origins or the whereabouts of its likely companions—the brown siblings that surely existed. My best guess was that it had come from the cats’ litter box. Perhaps one of them had missed, and one of the dogs had proudly carried it down as its trophy. It was a long shot, but it was the most plausible explanation I could muster. Sometimes, answers just evade you.
A little while later, I returned to the laundry room (because where else would I be when I’m not cooking, chauffeuring, or wiping a butt?). I was there to retrieve my son’s sheets and comforter from the washing machine. As I opened the washer door, the familiar, fresh scent of detergent greeted me. However, this time it was tainted by an unmistakable and ominous odor—a foul scent that my trained nose recognized instantly: poop.
Clearly, something was amiss. I blinked a few times, hoping the issue would magically resolve itself. That’s when I spotted it: a waxy brown smudge on the clear glass of the washer door. Next, I noticed a similar smudge on the rubber seal, albeit a bit grainy. That’s when the terrible realization hit me like a ton of bricks.
I had inadvertently washed a pile of poop.
Suddenly, every piece of the puzzle fell into place. Earlier that day, when I stripped my son’s bedding, I had tossed it in a heap on the floor, planning to wash it immediately. But, as life would have it, I got distracted by a ringing phone, unloading the dishwasher, and yes—cupcakes. Hours later, when I finally loaded the washer, one of my dogs had taken advantage of the bedding pile for a bathroom break. Somehow, I had completely missed it and bundled the whole mess into the laundry room. OMG.
To this day, I’m baffled as to why I didn’t smell it sooner. My son’s bedding wasn’t so filthy that it could have masked the offending odor. Maybe I was breathing through my mouth, or perhaps one of the kids had used the nearby bathroom without turning on the exhaust fan. Who knows?
In any event, the mystery of the lone turd was resolved. I sanitized the washer, rewashed the bedding (twice, just to be safe), and learned a valuable lesson that I’m now passing along to you: it’s not just pockets you need to check before tossing your laundry in the wash.
As the saying goes, “You can’t polish a turd.” But I can proudly say I tried—albeit accidentally.
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In summary, the saga of the laundry room turd serves as a humorous reminder of the unexpected surprises that come with parenting. The incident not only led to a thorough cleaning but also to a newfound awareness of my surroundings—because sometimes, even the most mundane tasks can take a messy turn.