James Taylor

There's been a lot of poop in my life the past 36 hours.

First I had to remove one of our toilets, clean it out and dislodge a little doll that had been gumming up the works. Here's the conversation I had afterward with three little people: "Three things go in that potty--pee, poop and toilet paper. No toys, no wipes, no food, no toothbrushes. Pee, poop and toilet paper."

New wax ring, new water line, bathroom spotless until...no names, but someone's stomach problems couldn't resist a gleaming target--the newly spotless bathroom.

No more details, but it was late last night, so it was unfortunate as well as ill-timed. It led to little sleep as well as the need for diaper-rash cream. I left that jar out and tonight, the Terrible Two got into it and smeared the cream all over the boys' bedroom.

TV screen, bed frame, wall (little white handprints like some Native American tribe or the Blair Witch Project tent scene), poor Spiderman plush doll. Is life a great big bang-up NOW, Spidey?

Thanks go to Connor for doing a great job cleaning up the cream. I'm done.