I nestled my head deep into my soft pillow, already savoring the luxurious taste of impending sleep. My newborn son, wrapped tightly in his flannel blanket, had finally passed out in his crib after a marathon nursing session.
My limbs melted into the mattress. My eyelids succumbed to the heaviness. My jaw went slack. This stretch of sleep was going to be absolutely delicious.
Somewhere on the periphery of consciousness, my mind registered our sweet, maternal dog hop up on the bed. She had followed me back from the nursery. Without opening my eyes, I recognized the pattern of movement as she circled repeatedly, making the perfect resting spot.
As her 65-pound body finally collapsed in an exhausted heap next to my pillow, I felt heavy, warm raindrops splatter my face and upper body.
Rain … inside my house … Oh, how nice and relaxing … I thought, still under sleep’s seductive spell.
Suddenly, violently, it dawned on me: That wasn’t rain. That was DOG SHIT. I had just been sprayed with liquefied poop … FROM MY DOG’S ASS.
What. The. Fuck. My brain screamed, but I was paralyzed by the warm goo oozing down my eyelid.
My incredible dog had been my constant nursing companion for the past week and needed sleep just like me. She was innocent. My husband, on the other hand, was not. That bastard had been sleeping soundly for hours. I woke him without regret.
I whisper-screamed,”The dog just shit on me!”
“What?! Huh?!” he stammered.
“THE DOG JUST SHIT ON ME.” I repeated, venom spraying from my mouth. The jerk would bear witness to my horror.
“What are you talking about? There’s no shit on the bed,” he seemed to question my sanity, which only mad me angrier.
I took a deep breath in, stopping only because of the stench, and slowly spelled it out for him, “Brandy’s stomach has been nervous because of the baby. She just laid down by my pillow. When she plopped down, SHE SPRAYED SHIT ON MY FACE!”
“I don’t see anything,” he responded, moments from his own murder.
“Look. At. My. Face. There is shit running down my cheek,” I stammered, still not opening my eyes.
I could feel him moving close. “What the fuck? Oh. Wow. You better take a shower.”
“I’m supposed to be sleeping,” I wailed. “The baby is sleeping, and I should be too. This was my only chance to sleep. You wouldn’t understand—you’ve been sleeping. YOU’RE ALWAYS SLEEPING!” Tears mixed with poop and ran down my face. “If I take a shower, I won’t be able to go back to sleep, and then I’ll miss my opportunity,” I bordered on hysteria.
“Go take a shower. I’ll change the sheets. You can then go back to sleep. I’ll take the next shift with the baby.”
He probably wasn’t aware of it, but he had just saved himself from being murdered by a poop-splattered crazy person.
. . .
If you liked this WTF story, you will LOVE the one I wrote in the hilarious and heartwarming new anthology, Martinis and Motherhood: Tales of Wonder, Woe & WTF?! The book pairs up short and relatable stories of motherhood with customized martini recipes inspired by the tales themselves. I wrote about my boobs. They put it in the WTF?! section, naturally.
Photo Credit: petertt / 123RF Stock Photo
20 Responses
OMG…the PERFECT combination of hilarious and disgusting. Go you!
I want that on my tombstone.
Oh no, no, NO!
I’ve had a similar experience but MUCH lower level. My cat (who had been neutered) decided to spray up my handbag which was at the side of my bed at 4am. Of course it went all over my face … and I think my mouth was open. I didn’t get back to sleep either :o((
When it comes to middle-of-the-night animal waste spray, there are no lower levels. We’re all losers. 😉
Oh yeah, there’s no topping the dog shitting on your face story. And I always thought it was a bad thing to simply STEP in the dog shit. 🙂
When you call it a “dog shitting on your face” story, that sounds pretty gross. 😉
You are a disgusting pocket of wine and poop, but I love you anyway. Congrats on yet ANOTHER book! xoxo
I do seem to have a lot of poop stories. Thank you so much! xoxo
No no no no no no no!!!!! ACK! My cat pooped on the bed a couple of times but…nah, you win. I got nothin’. EEE-GAD! #SCOOBYSPLAT
#SCOOBYSPLAT FTW!
Sadly, my 70 lb mutt’s been sick this past week with leaky explosive poops, and while I’m thrilled that I haven’t been on the receiving end of his poops, I do feel your pain and am both horrified and humored by your post.
So, I’m sitting here eating a SALAD… Had a similar experience two years ago. Let me just say that MY dog will NEVER eat rotisserie chicken again! *Shivers*
Geez, you couldn’t have thrown in some pictures?? I like pictures. Lol. Also, gross. One more reason I’m glad we don’t let the dog on the bed. Also, I don’t miss the late night nursing, babies up again years one bit. It takes a good (smart) man to recognize when he better step up for the sake of his own well being. I was glad your husband saved himself.
One more reason I don’t have a dog!
Hilarious btw. OMG!
xo
O M WTF G. NOT THE FACE!!! This is why I refuse to allow dogs on the bed!! I’ve been shat on numerous times by my boys when they were babies, and I’ve learned having pets (especially elderly or anxious ones) can be particularly hazardous, but God help us when they start swapping notes.
My cats poop everywhere except for where they’re supposed to but fortunately have never gotten anywhere close to my mouth. I want to go brush my teeth just thinking about it!
That sounds like just about the most awful (and yet hilarious) thing that could happen. Makes stepping in my cat’s vomit after nursing my daughter one night seem pretty innocuous.
Fairly sure I’d have been scarred for life if that happened to me.
It would’ve gotten really awkward every time the dog walked in the room. We’d have been avoiding eye contact and talking about the whether trying to ignore the massive, drippy, smelly elephant in the room.
Probably would’ve had to get a new dog.
And a new bed.
I can be dramatic at times.
Ha ha! Yes, I would have had to call 911 for a fire hose to wash that down. Reason #453 that I cannot have a pet. Human kid poop derails me enough…
Thankfully, the nearest thing I have to contend with is my cat – who will piss on any towel or clothing item left unfolded or out of place. She’s obviously OCD about having a clean house. I guess I should thank her – I can actually have impromptu guests over now without being horribly embarrassed by the clutter.