Daddy, I peed in my bed...

To quote the great scholar Ferris Bueller, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

This series of blogs tagged "Dad!" are my opportunity to look back at the all out assault on parenting by my sweet daughters. I've been contemplating this for the better part of 2 months. Now the time has come.

This all started when Ella woke up one Friday morning while misti was at work. I woke up to Ella declaring very loudly, "Daddy I peed in my bed." I was not surprised by this announcement, since we are currently in the midst of a protracted potty training battle. She does her best, but I'm thankful we have a great washer and dryer.

I begrudgingly got up out of bed and watched as my daughter waddled to the bathroom. I remember being somewhat perturbed by the faint hint of poop lingering in the air as I walked out of my room and into the hall - I knew the source. Haley. That stupid dog just pooped in my house, AGAIN! Immediately, the thought of how much I detested Haley passed through my mind. Followed by the low murmurings of aggrivation at a dog who just didn't seem to get it. For her to poop on the floor the very morning Ella peed her bed seemed completely unconscionable.

My assumptions were all wrong... and unfortunately so were Ella's. What was on her bed was not pee... it was a stomach virus accompanied by an acute case of diarrhea. Needless to say our plans of hiking that day were put on hold.