After running my dish washer today I noticed what looked to be a clump of food at the bottom of the basin. Upon further inspection, I noticed it was actually a molar.
I don't know where this tooth came from, or moreover who it belonged to. And yet I took it out, dried it off and just put it on the counter.
Once you become a parent, you quickly learn how little shocks you.
Perhaps it's the cleaning of poop and God knows what else during those first few months of Mommydom.
The other day I found a pierogi in the couch.
Couldn't tell you the last time we had those for dinner.
But I am not grossed out. I am like, ok, that's bizarre and just keep going.
Finding underwear in the cupboard. Finding sticky residue all over stuff and having not the faintest clue where it came from.
I remember finding one of the kids ambilocal cords in a coffee mug once. Yes I saved them.
Again, not much disgusts me anymore.
I looked in my bread drawer last week and found I had begun to unwillingly conduct a science experiment with not one, but several varieties of bread. They had turned colors you couldn't imagine. Instead of dry heaving, I just plopped those bad boys in the trash and carried on.
I remember all of us getting food poisoning a few years ago and while I was throwing up in one garbage can, I was holding a bag for my youngest to puke in.
Motherhood.
The scariest hood you will ever go through.
Xoxo,
C.
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