Just Wrong

I had a "mommy moment" this week that I would just as soon forget. In fact I wish I could have lived my entire life without experiencing it. It was Tuesday, my crazy morning days, I had just returned from taking the girls to an early-morning violin lesson. It was 9:10 a.m. and I had just dropped them off at school. I had Joy School at my house this week, so 6 preschoolers were arriving at my house in 5 minutes. Was I ready? Was the house in order? Did I know where the Joy School cd was that I needed for that day's lesson? These and many other thoughts fleeted through my already tired, scrambled mind. As I walked in from the garage and through the laundry room, I smelled something bad, nay nasty. I remembered that I had put in a load of laundry the night before, so as I dashed in to put violins away and make sure all was in order, I made a mental note to switch the laundry. Could they be that stinky already? I brushed the thought off, thinking they'd be just fine if I could get them into the dryer.
I quickly found the cd, pushed play for welcome music, got Todd sweeping up breakfast off the floor and getting breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, found the weather and date charts I needed and then the doorbell rang. I shuffled the first child through the door and remembered I still needed to change the dang laundry. If I didn't do it now, they'd only get stinkier.
Before anyone else arrived, I ran into the laundry room and started throwing the wet clothes into the dryer. Whew, this stuff really smelled bad. Knowing I didn't have time for anything else, I threw the last of it into the dryer, the last item being a very water-logged empty diaper! My brain circuits started to connect as I realized what I had been smelling. I opened the washer to find it covered with chunks of poop, some large, some small, smeared around the entire inside. Jaw on the floor, I went back to the dryer, looking at the clothes and upon closer examination I found many more chunks of poo throughout the whole batch of "clean" clothes. I closed the doors, all of them, grabbed the air freshener, hoping to mask the stench before all the moms arriving thought they were sending their kids to Cesspool School. Disgusting. Gross. Just Wrong.
Finished Joy School. Sent them out the door and knew I had to clean up the mess. How do I do that? Lots of bleach, lots of hot water and lots of cycles. Here's hoping I got all the chunks.
I couldn't fairly put the blame on little Andrew, who did help me put the laundry in the washer the night before. Here's the most accurate explanation I can come up with, however weak it may be: Sometimes when I load up a basket of dirty clothes to bring downstairs, and if I have a fresh poopy diaper I need to bring as well, I'll stick it into the corner of the basket that is already going down, POSITIVE that I will remember to put it in the garbage before I decide to dump the load into the washer. I should have learned by now not to rely on my non-existent memory.
So to all moms out there, here's a fair warning: don't dump, sift the laundry. Then you will know precisely what is going to be washed. No, there is no such thing as "clean poop".