Emergent text...

   So last night, while I was at work, I got the text that I always dread.  The text from the husband that simply says "Call me now please?"  Great....What is happening at home?  The severity of these texts has varied greatly in the past.  When I call back, it can be something as simple as "Molly spilled all of the Splenda on the floor."  And something as severe as "I am on my way to the hospital to see you, Molly may have broken her arm."  I stop what I am doing at work, and try to call him immediately.  No answer...now I am just annoyed.  Why send a text like that, if you aren't going to answer your phone...unless whatever is happening is so severe that he can't answer the phone.  What if someone is hurt, or choking, or bleeding??  What if he can't answer the phone because he is on the phone with 911, and he is afraid to get off the line??  If you are an man reading this, you have started to doubt my sanity.  If you are a woman reading this, you totally understand how my mind has started to jump to these conclusions.  I finally decide, that if he really needed me, he would have called the hospital line to find me, and that I will call back in a few minutes, after I answer the call bell for the patient that is calling out.  Of course this only after I had tried to call him about 10 times...
    Approximately 30 minutes after the emergent text, I finally get a text back, that says "sorry, try calling again.  I can answer now."  Well thank god...now I can finally find out what has been happening.  Conversation went something like this.
Me "What in the world happened, and why didn't you answer the phone?"
Mike "Sorry, I was kind of up to my elbows in poop. "
Me "ahhh, so a literal s#$*storm.  What happened?"
Mike "well...I had them both down for a nap."
Me "OK, then what?"
Mike "Well, I guess Molly pooped in her pull up, and then she decided to clean it up herself.  It did NOT go well.  I found her covered in poop, her bed covered in poop, her clothes covered in poop, and pink wankie covered in poop.  Best I can tell, she took off the pull up, sat down in several places while attempting to wipe herself, which is what I found her doing.  Exactly, what can I put in the washing machine?"
Me "It sounds like you might just need a pressure washer instead...but seriously, get most of the poop off the stuff, spray it with stain treatment, and stick it on the heavy duty cycle."
Mike "can you talk to her, she is very upset about the whole thing."
Me "Ok, put her on."
     As you can imagine, there is no need to try and tell you what Molly had to say about the whole thing.  There was a lot of sniffling, some incoherent speech, mentions of "poop" and "sorry mommy,' and lots of comforting words from mommy that everything was ok.  My friends and co workers at the desk were laughing by this point, and I was just wondering how much of this mess would be left for me to clean up when I got home.  I am grateful that it was nothing more serious than an unfortunate poop situation, and that all of the aftermath seemed to be handled before I got home from work.