By a bird.
At a ball game.
Only I couldn't find it.
I just knew it.
So there I am trying to find the evidence without looking like I am looking for birdy-do-do.
I even ask a fellow baseball mom and facebook friend....hey...can you se any bird sh*t in my hair?
But later when I get up I see it on the back of my chair.
And at home the kids point out that it is on the back of my shirt.
Moral to this story:
If you think you've been sh8t on, you probably have.
Trust your instincts.