There are some things that a rational, mentally competent adult should never do or say. One of these things is the phrase, "I pooped in a Wal-Mart shopping bag." But perhaps even less acceptable is following that preceding sentence with the word, "again."
It's not like I set out with a mission to poop in receptacles not intended for feces -- or anything aside from toilets. And this time around it wasn't really my fault. Okay, it wasn't my fault at all. The only mistake I made... okay, the TWO mistakes I made... was eating buffalo wings for dinner in a sauce I hadn't previously tried, and leaving a toddler unattended.
So I set forth one morning recently with my intention being to have a very normal day, filled with toddler wrangling, laundry, and pooping in toilets. Shortly after waking up -- after a night with friends in which I ate aforementioned wings -- I changed Punk and set her free to terrorize the dog and my otherwise tranquil house while I set out to make breakfast.
I heard the bathroom door slam shut. Punk's newest fascination is opening and closing doors. So when I heard the door slam shut, I didn't apply much thought until about two minutes later, when, as I stared at the bowl of oatmeal making its rounds in the microwave, I felt an angry, unhappy turn in my stomach. This is the point where a rational adult would walk herself to the bathroom and take care of necessary business. And while I'm hardly rational...or an adult... that's what I did. Then I got to the bathroom door.
I turned the handle.
The handle did not turn.
My daughter had locked herself in the bathroom.
The only bathroom in the house.
There is no actual key, just a series of tricks with a bobby pin and patience.
And dear god this horrible concoction in my intestines is not waiting for this.
It's at times when you really have to take a shit that you find yourself utilizing problem-solving skills that would make the Pentagon green with envy. It's like a mental Jenga as you try to weigh out your options as efficiently as possible, all the while praying to whatever deity will listen that maybe... just maybe... you won't shit your pants.
I mean, really. What do you do in this situation? Run to the neighbor's house? Yeah, hi, my daughter locked me out of the bathroom and I'm about to erupt with explosive diarrhea all up in your business if you don't let me use your bathroom. Nope, doesn't happen that way. So I called upon past experience and I sprinted to the kitchen, grabbed a couple Wal-Mart bags out of the little dispenser my grandma made me in college, double bagged, and no sooner had I completed that, did the full components of my bowels explode into it in just the knick of time.
Yes ma'am, Helpful Hints from Heloise. In a pinch, you can recycle your shopping bags as a quaint solution for when your toddler locks you out of the bathroom and you're suffering from mercilessly explosive diarrhea.
Sometimes I feel like an asshole for not buying one of those reusable shopping bags when I go to the grocery. Then I think about things like this, and my seeming avoidance of actually shitting in acceptable receptacles, and I think... I'm recycling anyway, right?
2 hours ago
8 comments:
Perhaps a packet of emergency depends is in order?
Oh my word I dont think i have ever read such, such, disgusting
things.I feel like vomiting now.
Anonymous,
Perhaps the lesson to learn from this is that delicate snowflakes like you should stick to watching prime-time sitcoms and Jay Leno standup, where the bland, soulless, color-by-numbers "humor" will not be a shock to your fragile system. if you'd care to post your address here, I will be glad to send you the complete boxed set of "The Andy Griffith Show" so you can nod and smile calmly without such massive upset to your entire life.
We understand that the Internet is a frightening place. Perhaps it's time to finally cancel your AOL subscription and retreat back to the safety of your beanie-baby ensconced sofa set, where you will be threatened by nothing more racy than new episodes of "The Marriage Ref"
Regards,
A concerned citizen.
Girl, you need a backup toilet.
But considering the circumstances - you handled it well. I would think you were able to be more, ahem, careful this time. *That's* good news.
Haha. You said asshole.
I'm concerned that "Concerned Citizen" spends too much time watching TV.
What! There's an old expression, "he doesn't have a pot to piss in."
There's even a character in a great short story by famous Egyption author ------------ [name may come to me] set in a Cairo slum called "The Street of the Pregnant Women," because of the enciente condition of all the women there, a street in which all the men smoke hashish every morning and sleep the rest of the day.... and on that street, the poorest man.... became a hero by throwing a chamber-pot or thunderpot at an enemy of the community, a leather lunged street vendor who foolishly entered the street in the afternoon, making a racket offensive to the street's slumbering elite....because that chamber-pot was his only possession.
I am to assume that you never eat pasta? You never boil water? You don't own a plastic trash bin? You never use a bucket for any purpose?
I wonder......have to think fast, sometimes.
Best fast thinking I ever saw...nurse in an ER takes a leg bandage off a vagrant....revealing swarming maggots. Cool as a cucumber, she splashed chorloform on them and they all fell into the pan she was holding. Quick hands, steady nerves.
She must have smelled the maggots, I thought, to have the chloroform.
Also, I thought, that maggots are a good thing for debriding wounds, up to a point. That would be the point where they start eating healthy flesh. But do they ever actually do that? Or do they just eat gangrenous flesh?
I never heard whether the vagrant died...which he may have done anyway, from blood poisoning, among other factors.
Loved it! Very real life situation. Shit happens, literally. Screw everyone else!
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