Everyone poops. It’s true. There’s even a book that tells us so titled…you guessed it…Everyone Poops. Everyone may poop, but not everyone talks about it. There are, however, several groups of people who like to talk about poop:
- Moms – Moms often have poop on the brain. It’s a little known fact that after you have a child, part of your brain actually turns to poop. And this is the reason moms will repeatedly tell you that Little Baby Poopypants poops 9 times a day, whether you want to hear about it or not.
- The elderly – Old folks talk about their poop all the time. They are fixated on their bowel movements. So if Gramps doesn’t poop every day at exactly 10:37 AM, he’ll babble incessantly about his lack of poop until Matlock is on. Then he’ll babble incessantly about Matlock’s lack of poop.
- Gastroenterologists – Gastroenterologists like to talk about poop because they get paid lots and lots of money to talk about poop.
- My 4-year-old son
Yes, ever since he became potty trained, my son has been very interested in his poop. You could say he’s become quite the poopologist. His bathroom experience isn’t complete until he jumps off the toilet, peers into the toilet and checks out his poop. And he won’t flush until he comments on what he sees:
That one’s long like a snake!
Four round ones!
That’s a BIG one!
This goes on for several minutes. Then it’s my turn to comment:
Hey kid, quit staring in the toilet…you’re not going to find a pot of gold in there, just a pot of poop!
You think that giant turd you pushed out is impressive? Puh-leeze! You know what’s impressive? Pushing 2 HUMAN BEINGS out…that’s impressive! Take that poop boy!
It’s not just his own poop he’s interested in. Oh no. For some strange reason, he wants to know all about my business. My bowel business. Whenever I exit the bathroom, my son bombards me with questions. It’s like the Spanish Inquisition…if the Spanish Inquisition was about poop:
Did you poop?
What did your poop look like?
What color was it?
Was it big or small?
How many did you have?
What shape was it?
Was it mushy?
These are the questions my son asks me every. single. day. And because I’m still gunning for that Mother of the Year award, I answer his questions every. single. day. But I’m getting a little tired of having to play 20 Questions: The Poop Edition with my son. How can I make it so my son is longer interested in my poop? I know – the next time my son wants to quiz me about my bowel movements, these are the answers he will get:
J: Did you poop?
Me: Go in the bathroom and take a whiff – that’ll answer your question.
J: What did your poop look like?
Me: It looked just like Betty White.
J: What color was it?
Me: Mostly brown with a hint of burnt sienna.
J: Was it big or small?
Me: Big? It was ginormous! I’m talking full-fledged anaconda. Needed the plunger to get that sucker down!
J: How many did you have?
Me: Oh man, I lost count at 12.
J: Was it mushy?
Me: Not at all – it was hard as a rock. I think I ripped me a new one pushing it out! Do you have any fiber supplements I can borrow?
Heh heh heh!
Hopefully that little Q&A session will kill his curiosity and I can finally stop talking about poop. For now at least. In 40 years, I’m sure I’ll be babbling incessantly about how it’s 10:37 AM and I haven’t pooped yet. And then I’ll tell you to shut the hell up because Matlock is on.