some things are not meant for bed...

I love my bed linen. I mean, REALLY love it.

My bed linen is one of the luxuries in life I have refused to give up, even though I have stopped working (except for the occasional freelance job) and I no longer have any money It is lovely Sheriden 450 thread count, sateen finish. Cream. Lovely, lovely, lovely. I have two sets so I always have a fresh lot on my bed.

I love changing the sheets each week. I love getting into my crisp, clean bed. My bed is my haven.

I also love my doona cover. It is gorgeous. I saw it a Freedom and coveted and coveted for a year or so until I saw the same one at Spotlight and snapped it up for $100 (bargain baby! It was a lot more at Freedom). It is predominantly white with some subtle but lovely patterns on the front.

I shudder at the thought of breakfast in bed. No food comes near my bed. I usually have a shower before bed so I dont put dirty feet on my sheets.

You could say I am anally retentive about my bed.

But today my beautiful bed was violated in the worst possible way.
We are lucky enough to have an ensuite. It is a nice white ensuite and I quite like it. The toilet in there is also lower than the main toilet which means my boy can climb onto it himself and go do poos.

Usually when he does this, he calls me in to 'cheer the poos' - a gross little habit we have kept from when he was first toilet trained. I stand there and watch until it hits the water - splash - and I cheer because he is such a clever boy.

Occasionally he doesn't ask me to come and cheer him but he always wants me to see the end result. So I have to go in and make a song and dance about his big and wonderful poo. And wipe is bottom. Oh the pleasures.

But today I didn't have to do that either. No, today I was thinking I was clever sneaking off to my computer without him noticing. Leaving him to quietly play with his trains.
I was merrily typing away when I heard words that sent a chill down my spine.

"yukky poo on mummy's bed"

OH MY GOODNESS! I have never run as quickly as I just did into my room to see a pantless toddler standing on MY sheets with POO on MY BED.

It seems that instead of calling me to wipe his botty, he decided HE would be sneaky and get a quick bed-jumping session in before I noticed.
He knew he had done something really, really bad. He looked at me with these big brown eyes and gave me a little 'look-how-cute-I-am-dont-be-mad' smile which he uses to get out of all kinds of trouble.

I was too dumbstruck to get mad at the boy. I just wanted to cry. Poo on my precious, precious sheets. Oh how terribly, utterly GROSS. Yuk.
They are now in a very strong solution of Napisan. Heaven knows I would have thrown them out and bought a new set if they weren't so very, very expensive.

But he has ruined it for me. He really has. For no matter what, when I climb into my bed - no matter how good it feels, I will know that my sheets have had poo on them.