A Normal Jackson Week

So, the girls are back on track this week and the house has been pretty quiet. I expected Porter to be WAY out of control, because he's been having a great time with someone to play with. Of course, this wouldn't be my house if SOMETHING didn't happen. And both incidents are pretty gross.

A couple of days ago, I walked into the family room to find crumpled up baby wipes all over the bench. This is a pretty normal occurrence, as Zoey loves to get into them and pull them ALL out. But wait..... Zoey's upstairs taking a nap. Hum. I pick one up to throw it away and quickly realize that it's been used. EEWWW!!! Porter had pooped his pants and decided to clean himself up. He got himself new pants and removed the old. I guess I should be glad that he knew enough to clean himself up before he put new ones on. But he used like 20 baby wipes! Let's just say I used a lot of soap!

Then today, I'm getting ready to run out the door to take Hali to dance, and it's always really hectic. I have to get Porter and Zoey in the car, make sure Hali's hair is pulled back, we usually have to hunt for shoes, you get the picture. And Porter is hanging on my leg and being whiny. So I pick him up to put him in the car and something smells off. He smells like campfire. Huh? What have you been eating, boy? Turns out it's bacon. Raw bacon in my refrigerator. Now anyone who knows me, knows I HATE bacon. Fried, greasy fat just makes me slightly ill. Course, I did eat the meat drippings you find on the bottom of the pan, spread on a piece of bread like butter, once. It was one of those "When in Rome" (or in this case, Austria) kind of things. But I digress. Am I going to have to deal with the salmonella poisoning of my son? As it is, we had to put the kitchen stool in the garage, because I caught Porter using it to get into the medicine to eat those Pepto pills like they were candy! This kid has a death wish. I quickly called Scott, because he's the one who bought it and he'd know if we were lucky and it's the pre-cooked kind. His answer to me is, "Well, its some kind of processed turkey stuff that doesn't take a lot to cook it, so he should be ok." Sheesh. I suppose that means, yes, dear, it's the pre-cooked kind. Let's hope we aren't spending the night in the emergency ward. Although, with Porter I'm sure it will be a common occurrence.

And just in case you were wondering, the meat drippings thing tasted just like the pan.