My coworker/friend E popped her head into my office last night and said two words: “Crabcake sandwich?” I logged off the computer and headed to The Cheesecake Factory with her. There was a 20-40 minute wait, so we went to Sephora, 9 West and Baker’s to kill some time. Finally, we were seated. I had a wicked dirty martini, she had a beer, and we ordered calamari for an appetizer and the aforementioned crabcake sandwich for dinner (we split it). Halfway throught the crabcake sandwich, I didn’t feel so good. Too much fried goodness, I think, or too much mayo-based stuff. Anyway, I headed home after that. Had to pee, but figured…oh I’ll wait til I get home, it’s not far.
Know where this is going?
I opened the door to the house (Dad was out for the evening, went to a concert with some people from choir) and immediately thought one of the dogs had had an accident (not that they ever have!). All I could smell was poop!
This is what I saw: dirty dishes on the washing machine, a sink filled with soapy water and nothing else, dirty pans on the floor in front of the sink and little globs of dirt (not poop!) on the floor. I had to pee, tho, remember? So I headed to the bathroom, where I found the source of the odor…there were faint smears of poop on the floor in front of the toilet, along with a spatula (no poop on it, but I still threw it away).
So, Columbo-style, I pieced together what happened. Kinda. I figured Dad put Max out on the run in the backyard. Then he started to do the dishes. Unfortunately, sometimes Max gets wrapped around the tree out back…and Dad has to walk thru the
not usually unmown but with all the rain we’ve been having grass, where he encountered a poop bomb. He can’t look down when he’s walking so that explains how he stepped in it.
Then I think he realized what he’s stepped in…and took his shoes off before he came in the house…but that little bits of dirt fell off them anyway. He took the shoes into the bathroom…cause where else would you clean poop off your shoes but over the toilet? After cleaning off the shoes and whatnot, he realized he had no time to finish the dishes OR leave me a note, cause the choir folk were coming to pick him up.
So I had to clean all THAT before I could pee. Next time, I’ll use the restroom at the restaurant, sheeesh!
And you can bet I’m going to tell Dad that ALL kitchen implements are NOT for use for anything but COOKING! I might even just throw them all away and start from scratch…and I’m serious! DISGUSTING!!!
Of course…I could be wrong about the whole thing and Dad could just need to start wearing Depends. In which case…I’m REALLY glad I threw away the spatula! I’m warning him, tho…incontience = nursing home! Joking! [mostly] No really! [uh huh]