Every day or every other day, as my son strips down to nothing and climbs up onto the toilet to drop a duece, I’m faced with the reality that he just doesn’t get enough fiber in his diet. There are complaints of a belly that hurts and whines and wimpers that come from that bathroom as my poor 3 yr old tries to pass, what can best be described as, a turd the size of a grown man’s arm! Last night was more of the same. Jason and I had just finally tucked Thaylin into bed and settled in on the couch when we hear from upstairs, “Daaaaaaadddy, I need you.” Rarely does T get out of bed after the lights have been turned out and the door shut, so we knew he really did need something. And as Jason got to the top of the steps, I hear, “Daddy, I need you to help me, I have to go poop.” Thank you Lord for getting me out of hand holding, stink butt smelling, deep breath advising, Poop Duty this time!
But oh how Karma is a nasty little bitch. About an hour and a half later Jason and I go to bed. I get all snuggled up in my bed and remember that Aunt Flo is in town and that she needs her bedding changed before retiring for the night. So off to the bathroom I go to take care of my girly business. I flush the toilet when I’m done…..FAIL. Great, the Poop machine has clogged the toilet with his elephant sized turds. Now, here I am with a clogged toilet (about to overflow) and Jason is snuggled all warmly in bed. But I’m not calling him to help, no way, because even after 10 yrs of togetherness and almost 4 yrs of marriage, I AM NOT asking my husband to come plunge a toilet that MAY or may not have a USED tampon floating around in it, mocking me for giving my kid too many fruit snacks and not enough raisins.
So I plunge, and I plunge and plunge and plunge. NOTHING happens (well, other than me splashing toilet water all over the floor). I try to remain calm while I chase the aforementioned tampon around the toiled with the magical blue plunger in hopes that a miracle will happen and all contents of the overflowing toilet will somehow magically go down the drain. NO such luck. I give up and head back to bed (hoping nobody has to use the bathroom in the middle of the night). This is not something I’m going to let keep me from getting my beauty sleep.
As I climb into bed I hear (mumbled from the other side)”you ok?”. Sure, I’m fine, why? Well, I heard a lot of noise in the bathroom and there was a lot of splashing and stuff and I wasn’t sure if those were normal period sounds or what was going on. Normal period sounds? REALLY? Did you just say PERIOD sounds? Ugh, never mind, I’m fine, everything’s great, go to sleep.
The best part of this? While I’m trying to get rid of the tampon that just won’t flush, I’m struck with the thought of a dear friend who is currently struggling to figure out how to tell your beautiful 10 yr old daughter about puberty and getting her period. And I laugh as I picture Heather in this very predicament (because this IS a HP predicament if ever there was one) while trying to explain to her princess about all the changes her body is about to go through. Good luck, sister; I’m done with all of this nonesense. Who wants my uterus?!?!?
Crampy and craving from Mandyland,