A Gross Confession

I just have a quick confession. You will probably think less of me and that's okay. I'm just trying to be real here, okay?

Yesterday as we were walking out of the house, one of my dogs spit up (so as not to completely gross you out) a little on our bed. I had zero time to deal with it, so I cleaned it up as best as I could. I threw a blanket down on the bottom half of the bed and we left. The house inspector was coming as was the buyers of our house, so I wanted things neat. I couldn't just rip the bedspread off the bed and throw it into the washer.

We got home last night at 8:30. A long day. I honestly looked at Jim and said, "Is it gross if I don't change the sheets tonight? I'm just SO TIRED. I cleaned it up and it's not like it was directly ON the sheets. Just the top bedspread which I never really touch anyway." He shrugged his shoulders in half agreement and half "I sleep in the chair anyway" so I didn't change the sheets yall.

And this morning, right after stripping diapers and washing Jacob's overflowing hamper, the bedspread went in. And you'll never guess what: it HAD SOAKED THROUGH the sheets. Gross. Gross. Gross. Gross.

My name is Sarah and I slept in sheets that had dried dog throw up on them.