A Poopy Tale
I know it’s a couple weeks late for Halloween, but I’m going to tell you a bit of a horror story. This is a true story. This happened over the weekend. Reader discretion is advised. 😉
You know that theme from Jaws? The one when the shark is around. Dun-uh. Dun-uh. That one? Ok make that go in your head.
Now picture in your mind’s eye a woman (me) going about her business while her three-year-old, fully dressed, plays in the living room. The unsuspecting woman moves – let’s make it in slow motion – toward the bathroom. She looks down, and there she sees it.
Poop. In the Potty.
There’s something wrong, though. Something very, very wrong. Like a decapitated animal, this potty is missing something vital. It takes a moment for the woman to realize what that missing piece is… Then it hits her.
Toilet paper. There is none.
I’ll spare the details but there was a shower involved for one certain little boy, and several admonitions to at *least* wipe, but preferably let one of us know so we can do it for him. When it was all over I did remind him that I was proud of him for going in the potty.
While I do rail against all the literal shit I deal with each day, I know it is a bizarre twist of reality that these are the days I’ll ache for when they’re gone.
I guess that’s life.