I hear the screams from the far bathroom. "I had an accident."
I walk in to find the girl hanging from the counter where she's been washing her face, her legs dangling 6 inches above a giant puddle of pee. Why she isn't in the bathroom with a stool is a total mystery.
I get her down and plop her into the bath tub and grab the nearest towel to deal with the mess. I silently pat myself on the back for dealing with it so calmly.
I go into the kids bathroom to get the spray bottle for the floor and find a white floor mat with an odd brown spot on it lying in front of the tub. I stoop a little bit closer to investigate. Tell tale signs of partially digested food and feces sit nestled in the white folds.
Oh no, she didn't.
I return to the naked Girl splashing in the other tub and ask, "Did you use the mat to wipe poo off of your bum?"
"Yes, because it was on my leg."
"Why on earth would you think a clean towel could do the job when you are standing next to a bath tub?"
I start rinsing the poo off in the other tub and for some reason, turn around and look behind the door. Ten previously clean and folded towels are wet, trampled on, and lying in a heap on the floor.
And then my head spun around and I ate them.
Mommy needs more sleep. And mommy's children are on towel rationing for a month. One each per week. They'd better hang it up or it's going to get slimy.