The Day of Urine

I was fortunate enough to miss the following series of events since I was off working hard on my side project.  But from Kit’s description, here is what I am to understand Kit and her parents endured this Saturday…

At some point during the usual Saturday morning hubbub of getting the girls fed and Claire off to swimming class, our dog Muffin slipped into the guest room, where Kits parents were staying, and peed all over the bed.  So they got that cleaned up and started a quick load of laundry for all the urine-soaked sheets and bedding.  The comforter, which was new, had to be sent off to dry cleaning.

The morning’s plan was to take the girls to a birthday party directly after swimming.  The party involved water balloons, so they would need to wear swimsuits and, in Molly’s case, a swim diaper.  So Molly, who had been playing outside in the warm morning sun, and accordingly drinking a lot of water, was wearing a swim diaper when she stared to yell, “Pee!  Pee!  My leg!  My leeeeeg!”  And sure enough, urine was running down her leg and on the floor, apparently due to both the volume of water consumed that morning and the peculiarity of the swim diaper.  Kit picked up Molly to help clean her up and then discovered that Molly’s urine had spread all over her own pants.  Another load of laundry was started, and Molly received a fresh swim diaper.

Swimming and the birthday party went fine until the very end of the party.  Kit had been trying to gather up both girls to leave at the end of the party, a process which can take some time to get both girls off to the car at the same time.  Finally when walking out the gate, Molly’s face appeared stricken, and sure enough, there was a little trail of pee on the ground around here.  So it was back inside for another diaper and yes, at home, another load of laundry.

After started, checking, and changing laundry at home, Kit went upstairs and laid down in Claire’s bed to get a few minutes of peace.  I am not sure why she laid down in Claire’s bed — maybe she was too tired to make it all the way back to our bedroom.  Either way, you might guess now what Kit discovered in Claire’s bed.  Yes, dog urine.  Muffin struck again, this time at Claire’s bed.  Surely Muffin skipped peeing on our own bed only because it was too high for her Muffin to jump onto.  And another load of laundry was started.

Claire’s bed was not dry of urine and bleach in time for bed, so she had to sleep in our bed, which may have been a nice bonus for Claire.  There was no bonus for anyone else.  Muffin may have made her point, if only we knew what it was.  We may never know.

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