Life in the Key of P

I feel like a live in the house of pee. Finally done with changing diapers, I still can't escape it.

In the middle of night, the Boss (in my bed of course) woke hollering "The pee is coming up." Sure 'nuff. Huge wet spot on my bed. Normally The Boss stays dry all night but last night he needed to go potty and was too afraid to get out of bed (my bed of course) to go even though I was in the room, the bathroom is in the room, and all the lights were on. In my mostly snoozy state I told him "Just get up and GO!" but did not see to it that he did. See, kids? Logical consequences apply to moms too.

Sometimes a failed race to make sure the dogs get out before it's absolutely necessary, it's been a week of it. Johnny Cash peed on The Boss' jacket. That's new. Cooper peed in my bathroom. Sodapop peed in the little boys' room.

Someone had a full-bladdered accident and then left a trail of wet clothes down the hall. I stepped on a pair of sodden socks. Yucko.

One of the kids suffers from frequent bladder control accidents and, while improved, has been setting out a hamper full of stinky, wet clothes each week.

Drama Boy and Sparky pee on each others beds for fun and revenge.

How can we have so much pee outside the bathroom and not a single jellyfish sting to show for it?