Thursday, April 11, 2013
Poopin' ain't easy
For those of you that are a little squeamish at just the title of this post, you may need to do a little light reading before you proceed on. Might I suggest the literary masterpiece by Taro Gomi, Everyone Poops. Because it's true. Poop happens. Moving on…
In our house, taking a poop by yourself is like locating the Bermuda Triangle and finding out Santa is real all in the same day: it ain't gonna happen. With two kids and a cat, you always have a surprise visitor mid-dump.
I can't lock the door because the last time I tried to poop alone (two years ago!) didn't go well. After two minutes in the bathroom alone, I found that The Quiet Contemplator (then 1) had climbed up our ottoman, into the windowsill and was banging on the glass--that was over two stories above the concrete sidewalk below.
So, to save my children from a Tears in Heaven ending, I never poop with the bathroom door locked or fully closed. Which invites a lot of spectators to my porcelain sporting events. Because who doesn't like those?
Here are just a few of the poop situations in our house as of late. Don't worry, they aren't gross. Mostly.
Captain's Log (because log is so appropriate here)
Today, The Quiet Contemplator came in and decided to out-poop me. While I was saddled up on the big potty, she pulled up her little potty and decided to have a competition of sorts. She won. Once she was finished and the stench she had laid was enough to knock me out, she proceed to exit the bathroom. THANKS!
The Contemplator joined me for the show and proceeded to tear pieces of toilet paper off the roll and individually put them in the toilet between my legs for my entire performance.
Today, The Cool Cucumber walked in, decided he didn't want to stay and walked out, leaving the door wide open so everyone in the house could watch me.
This morning, The Contemplator asked me 62 questions in rapid-fire succession. It is hard to concentrate on your number two when you are dealing with the Spanish Inquisition from your number one.
Today, The Cucumber crawled into my lap, tore pieces of toilet paper off the roll and then threw them on the floor, one by one. He then got down and proceeded to tear my bathroom book into shreds--while just out of my reach.
Today The Cucumber crawled into my lap to give me hugs and kisses. Um...thanks. But could they have waited just a few more minutes.
Today I decided I would try to derail The Cucumber's efforts to attend my poo performance. As soon as he toddled in, I asked him to go get me a book from his room. He toddled right back out. VICTORY! Unfortunately, he is getting smart so he came back two seconds later with a book for me to read to him. We had stinky story time.
Today I went into the bathroom to go and found a fresh Mr. Hanky laying on the bathroom rug in front of the toilet. I walked right back out.
Today the cat walked in, sat right in front on me and stared me down with a look of disgust the entire time I was on the pot. Because that isn't creepy. At all.
Today The Quiet Contemplator stood in front of me with her legs crossed crying that she had to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW! When I told her to use the other potty, she responded, "No. I want THIS potty." So I had to cut things off halfway through so she could go.
Fuck it. I quit.
So what about you, do you ever get to poop alone? Have you read I Just Want to Pee Alone?
Poopin' ain't easy