I Don't Know What's Worse

The fact that I'm trying to potty train two boys who refuse to poop in anything besides Power Rangers underwear...

That they could care less if this happens and are content running around the house letting it drip onto the carpet...

That both of them chose the same moment to have such an accident...

That I am left trying to clean up the carpet with a machine that only appears to work if you tip the hose just so...

That I exhaust myself taking these same children on a day trip to the zoo (in underwear no less), only to have them tell me that "it was okay" but that they didn't really have that much fun...

That when I try to call my husband for a little support, he's too busy to talk...

Or that when I glanced into the bathroom mirror just now, I found a piece of fresh poop in my hair.

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Yeah, it's kind of a toss-up, don't ya think?

I know that some of you well-meaning people out there may feel compelled to share a little tried and true wisdom about potties and training and mm's and stickers and all of that. Please don't. Reading that will make me combust. Seriously.