an unfortunateness of the trousers

Some time after arriving back in the house yesterday Edgar announced that he thought he might have fallen in some dogshit on the way home. It was only long enough to have entered his room and dropped his bag but it's the sort of thing I would prefer to have been announced before he'd crossed the threshold of the back door. I didn't think he had touched or sat on anything but the smell indicated that his suspicions were correct. I wasn't in a rush to infect the washing machine so left them out in a tub until Sunday morning, poking them with a bit of bamboo every couple of hours