Mud

We were outside tonight enjoying the cool weather, eating dinner on the deck, while Maggie chased the dogs around the back yard. I can hear her laughing and squealing and I know she is having a great time. After a little while she is climbing the stairs and I look over as she reaches the top complaining, "Mama, I got muddy!"
How odd, it hasn't rained in almost a week, how did she get muddy? She turns to face me and sure enough, her right knee is caked in mud, her right hand as well because of course she had to touch it. "Mama, I dirty, I got muddy!"
Hmmm...how DID she get muddy, there is no mud in the yard right now. Then my stomach turns because I realize something. I lift her up and very carefully bring my nose close to her soiled knee. Yup... just as I had feared... it's poop. "Maggie, this isn't mud, this is poop."
"Poop!?"
"Yup baby, poop."
"Yucky poo poo! Payton did it!"
Gross. I grab a handful of wet paper towels from inside and by the time I come back out, all of 30 seconds later, my daughter literally has flies buzzing around her. Double gross. Then I have to touch her, and now I have poop on ME. Triple gross. I get her all cleaned up, send back down the stairs to play, and hear, "Oh no! I got muddy again!" HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?! She hadn't even made it down two steps! I look and oh, there is poop on one of the steps where her knee must have made contact coming up. More paper towels, more gross, gross, gross! Being a mama is so glamorous.