So, Patrick left at 6:30 this morning for a business trip, which meant he wasn't around to help with the morning routine. Which meant that the poo was bound to hit the fan. . .
So, I got up extra early and took care of all of the little things he usually does, until Miles woke up. Which he did a good 15 minutes ahead of schedule.
When I went in to get Miles out of bed, I found him smiling and laughing, and soaking wet. I figured the diaper had leaked, but as I picked him up, I realized he wasn't wearing it at all. And he had pooped on the bed, and had been playing in it. He was covered in poo.
It is currently 9:00 am. I have already given Miles a bath, washed the sheets and blankets from his bed (and tossed them in the dryer), retrieved the sippy cup of milk that he threw down the stairs in protest to me leaving him alone for two seconds (twice), and fed him breakfast. I am finally getting my first cup of coffee. And I want a nap.
Oh, and Miles pointed to a picture of Jesus in his Bible stories book and called him a "kitty."
It's going to be a looooong week.