a gross overshare

I realise most of this will be more info than you probably need, and I apologise if we've not known each other long enough to really go here, but when the 6th episode of grossness had assailed me and it was not yet 1pm on Saturday I knew I needed a record, and I was (just) starting to see the funny side.

It started with Friday throwing up in her bed. 04h45 on Saturday morning. She's not a puker so it was as much a shock to her as to me. Blame it on an overly-rich dinner (i.e. blame it on me).
I cleaned her up, got her some juice, tucked her into bed with her (naturally fast asleep) Dad and stripped her bed, taking the sheets down to the bathroom to put straight into the washer.

Dog poo on the bathroom floor. And Sunday's toothbrush floating in a large puddle of wee.
Clear poo, side-step wee, put sheets on to wash. Back to bed.

Morning, proper morning. Friday is fine, dog is forgiven, toothbrush is discarded but ... sheets are not clean. Turns out a domestic washing machine isn't equipped to deal with actual chunks of undigested calamari.
Stand on lawn to shake out (now, at least, clean) chunks. Rewash load.

Unpack dishwasher. Hand wash most of the contents which are not properly clean. Tackle dismantling and washing machine filters.
Swear by all I hold dear not to leave it so long 'til I do that again. Who knew dirty dishes could produce so much filth?!

Clear rotting lemons off lawn. Clear rotting lemon off toddler. Clear rotting lemon from own hair.

Buy veggies and eggs from the veggie-man who comes to our door on a Saturday. Discover hairline cracks on two of the eggs. Break one into a small container - fine - break the next - gag.

It was round about now I determined it would be criminal not to share the delights of my morning thus far.
But the fun wasn't over.

A short while later I hear Friday going off to the loo. Then the telltale eager footsteps of her sister discovering an open bathroom door ...
A scuffle, a shout, 'Mummmeeeeeeeeeeeee!'
Friday, in an attempt to prevent Sunday getting to the loo roll jumped off the throne mid-wee, dousing the floor, herself, and her sister.
Third load of laundry goes on.
It was 12h45.

The rest of the day was uneventful, in the gross stakes at least. I regaled a friend with my tale of woe, stood by dour-faced while she screamed with laughter, had a giggle despite myself.
Then leant on our garden wall and got my sleeve covered in bird shit.

Fun times.

How gross is your gross?