*Warning* Queasy readers should go elsewhere.
Carter is playing in the tub. He's all "this is the greatest thing in the world, mom, did you know that? Hey! Who shut off my water? MORE!!"
Eventually he realizes the world is not actually going to end if the tubby ends and I get him out. He runs bare buns blazing into my room. Before putting his diaper on, I get lost in my Influenster beauty blogger vox box.
And then it got quiet. Too quiet.
And just as I turned my head, there it was. The loudest (and only) *plop* to ever ring out on my bedroom floor (it's carpet...). And then a little boy ran across the room and out the door.
So I did the natural thing. Cleaned and scrubbed.
A couple hours later Tom got home. The three of us went back upstairs and while Carter was doing somersaults on our bed suddenly I stepped in something a little too squishy to be a bobby pin or a hair tie.
...remnants of the plop. I screamed. Tom laughed. Carter laughed because Tom laughed. And luckily Tom was nice enough to grab an old towel for me.
Apparently I missed a spot on our unfortunately brownish bedroom carpet.