Not My Day

Isn't there a saying that deaths always come in threes? Does it also apply to just crappy events, period? Because if so then THIS SAYING IS TRUE I TELL YOU.

Exhibit A: Enormous dog gets it into his head to snake his way under the deck, that's SNAKE as in ON HIS FURRY BELLY, through the mud. Requires being hosed off- lucky for him it is warm today.

Exhibit B: Toddler decides to follow her mom onto the deck, presumably to observe the somewhat spirited washing of the dog, and mysteriously wearing her snow boats in the sixty degree weather. She suddenly gets a look of panic on her face and proceeds to pee (a lot) into her boots and in a giant puddle in front of the back door. This necessitates putting the now wet dog back on his chain in the muddy yard so I can strip down screaming, urine soaked child and put her back in the bathtub she just got out of ten minutes ago. I then have to retrieve dog, who is now freshly re-mudded, and rinse and dry him again, using three bath towels in the process and splattering my clothes. Let dog back inside, rinse puddle of pee off of deck, and put filthy towels/muddy clothes/peed in clothes into the wash to soak. Rinse off boots and leave on deck to dry.

Exhibit C: Son awakes with horrendous diaper explosion immediately following my return indoors. Screams and flails for ten minutes as I try to clean him up, all the while being lectured by Adelay to "leave him 'lone! He's crying! Leave him 'lone! Be nice, Mommy!"