The common thread of our lives
Posted on 11. Dec, 2009 by Andy Ptacek in Adventures with poop
Poop. It’s something I never thought would mean so much to me. From the moment my son was born I was concerned about it. How long will it stay black? It’s not changing! Phew… it’s yellow. Why doesn’t it stink? It’s green now! Whoah… it stinks now. It’s too hard! Rabbit poop? I think he’s constipated…
It may be hard to believe, but these day’s I’m actaully pretty mellow about my son’s poop situation… and more focused on my own. Not so much on it’s color and consistency, but the process of it all. I remember the days sitting in peace with my Cosmo and a scented candle; now I’m wrangling a munchkin hoping to drop some kids off at the pool already.
He wants to sit on my lap, then down to play with the toilet paper. Next it’s the magazine rack and then keeping him away from my undies and his further attempts to find out what exactly it is I’m doing. (Too personal?)
Meanwhile, my husband gets a freakin vacation in the john when it’s his turn. I swear he’s in there for like 45 minutes and when I called him out on it, he pulled the,”don’t make me feel guilty for pooping” card! I guess I have bad timing.
Anyway, here’s the crime scene my son recently left behind. Since this photo was taken, he now enjoys ripping up the toilet paper. I shit you not.
The common thread of our livesShare
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