Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Poopshake Alliteratives and Parallelisms

The other day, after a quick stop at Jack In The Box, we returned from a great day trip to find our boy had used the 1.5 hour drive home to see just how much he could poop without us noticing.

It's a lot.

Like, overflowing-in-the-car-seat-and-dripping-on-the-carpet-as-we-rush-him-to-the-tub a lot.

Don't be fooled by his snugly wiles - he's literally full of ****
About 15 minutes, 50 wet wipes, two towels, one trip to the garbage can, and three steps back inside later, I felt the soft, warm squish of moderately viscous infantile feces flow between my big and second toes.

Five minutes, three wet wipes, 14 squirts of cleaner, and two rags later, I sat down with Micah to enjoy an episode of TNG and my much awaited chocolate Oreo milkshake (yes, if you ask they make the Oreo milkshake with chocolate ice cream).  I had told my brother earlier that day how I hadn't consumed a milkshake in a while and had been avoiding my favorite treat, but after the day's hike I thought it was well deserved.

Then I spilled it.

I think I thought about crying for a second.  Another moderately viscous (though normally highly viscous, it had been waiting 20+ minutes for me by now) semi-fluid on the carpet.  But this one stung.  I had spilled it and nothing I could do would bring it back and consume the delicious.

I was so distraught that Micah took the repeat round of rag-on-rug rubbing and I realized something important as I mourned my milkshake mishap:

Poop piling up doesn't really make life worse; losing the milkshakes does really make life worse.  It's because poop can be disposed of and always is with a little effort, but milkshakes were meant to be enjoyed and, once lost, are impossible to recover and practically irreplaceable.

James likes when his mom reads to him :-)
Glad I've got my many metaphorical milkshakes that aren't getting dropped on the carpet anytime soon, particularly Micah and James.

And yeah, even if he's got poop literally coming out of his pants, I love my little buddy.

If you commented with your best/worst poop and/or milkshake story, I'd be down with it.

1 comment:

  1. Poop can definitely make life worse. For example, one day a few months ago Paisley got a "stomach bug" on Sunday morning before church. I valiantly said that Cyndi could stay home with Paisley and I would take our other three kids to church. Unfortunately, Fielding, age 3, had also come down with a stomach bug, although I didn't know it at the time. On the way to church he had a small poop accident while sitting in his car seat. I was able to take care of it for the most part, but I should have known that something was amiss. Sure enough, while I was trying to enjoy the sermon, Fielding turned to me and said "I have to go potty!" It was already too late. When I stood up to take him out I noticed poop all over my suit jacket and pants. That cost me about $20 in dry cleaning, which could have bought me several milkshakes. (Also note that poop issues will continue well past a child's infancy.)