If the Poop Fits

My daughter pulled a blanket off my bed and spread it on the grass in the backyard under a tree so she could sit and play in the shade. She unknowingly laid the blanket on a steaming pile of cat poop. At the end of the day, I asked her to bring the blanket inside. She brought it in and dropped it in a wadded up ball on the living room floor. My exhausted husband stumbled up the stairs, grabbed the blanket, and headed to bed. He slept all night snuggled up with cat poop. For the life of me, I cannot figure out how Ms. Norwood orchestrated this.