Where There’s Poop, There’s More Poop

May 6, 2010

My name is Leroy. I like to poop inside.


The other day, Corrina pooped in the potty for the first time.  (There I go again, ensuring that she’s going to be FURIOUS at me as soon as she’s allowed to use the internet.)  It was pretty awesome.  I was excited about it for all of three minutes, until I discovered that the cat had also recently pooped — in our closet.  Leaving the house of poop behind, I packed the wee ones into the car, pulled away from the house, and a bird promptly pooped on our windshield.  That night, the dog pooped in the laundry room, I stepped on it before noticing, and with that, any pleasure I’d taken in whatever small strides in potty training we’d made only hours beforehand were gone. 

Has anyone ever noticed how the expression “When it rains, it pours” applies in spades to parents?  I was on the phone with a first-time foster parent the other night, and she was telling me (strictly telling — no whining or complaining at all — mad props) about how her foster daughter needed to come home sick from school smack in the middle of the most stressful work day she’d had in four years.  I found myself saying, “Of course she did!  That’s how this parenting thing works!  They plot against you in the night!”

Because, seriously, sometimes it really does feel like my three kids are having clandestine meetings in the living room at 2 am, saying things like, “Okay, I’ll have an asthma attack while you skip out on school, and then you, baby, can burst a cappilary again while simultaneously soaking every single item of clothing you have with pee.  Then, we’ll all complain about how much we hate the dinner Meryl makes, even though the last time she made it we loved it, and then we’ll leave toys and shoes in her path so she falls on her face on the way to the kitchen to make us chicken nuggets.  Ready, break!” 

Is that cynical?  Are things really as badly-timed as I think they are?  Did I have just as many malicious coincidences in my single life, but I’ve now blocked them out so that I can blame the daily catastrophe that is my life on my kids?  What do you think? 

Please use the comments to tell me that your luck is just as bad as mine.  Please?  It’ll make cleaning up poop just a little bit easier.  

-Meryl at the Goose


4 Responses to “Where There’s Poop, There’s More Poop”

  1. Asha Says:

    You are not paranoid. They do plot against us. And drink ketchup in the middle of the night so that the container you just bought yesterday is already gone. And scheme up ways to make you completely lose your poop, so to speak, so they can get yelled at and have an excuse to go to therapy.

    Once you have more than one you’ve invited a secret guerilla army into your home intent on defeating your sanity in their grand fight for independence.

    Feel better?

  2. Kriss Eckenrode Says:

    THANK YOU for posting something about poop! My 7 year old cat Gus likes to poop everywhere in my house, thankfully he hasn’t found the closet yet. (Much knocking on wood happening!) This is pretty awesome on many levels but most of all is that Bella, my 11m old, is finally getting mobile! 2 nights ago I stepped in it, and tonight Bella peed all over me, herself, and my friends floor!
    Bella doesn’t have anyone to plot with, YET, but every time something happens to me I always hear my mom’s words ringing through my ears, “wait until you have children, they will be 10 x’s worse than you”….

  3. Asia Says:

    Meryl, your description of the kids plotting in the night made me laugh out loud!!

  4. I forgot to add that Leroy, pictured above, is also in on the scheming. We’ve had baby gates up all over the place since Corrina started walking, but they’re totally a charade at this point — the kids just stand by the gate and call for the dog, who opens it by bashing his head into it really hard. What did Asha call it? A secret guerilla army? That’s totally it.

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