It was after my soccer game. I was walking back to my car to go home after an 8 to 1 victory, and I was straining to see if my friends Laura and Jackie were playing on the second field. That's when it happend. I was oblivious to the fact that I had stepped in a fresh, mushy pile of dog poop. I made it the whole way home with out realizing. I got in the door, walked to the kitchen, drained and dried my water bottle, and went to sit on the stairs to remove my cleats. I held one foot in my left hand while I picked at the knot with the other. My hand met the pooh, but I overlooked the squishyness because I figured it was only mud, and I like mud. Afterall, we were just playing next to a farmers field, and besides, God made dirt, so dirt don't hurt.
That's when the smell hit me. It drifted up to my nose and I freaked out. I ripped my shoe off and threw it into the laundry tub (the laundry room is fairly close to the stairs). I turned on the hot water and scalled my hand.
BUT IT STILL SMELLED!!!!!!
I poured disinfectant over my hand and then took a bath. So now I am clean. Yeah me! I have always valued those on their sense of cleanliness.
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