I never thought a question like, “did you stick your finger in your butt again” would fall so effortlessly out of my mouth as it did today.
My son is having a challenging time figuring out the right ratio of toilet paper to tush lately. He exits the bathroom with a face like, somehow I think I got this wrong, again. I usually go in to find one of two things.
A. Massive amounts of toilet paper scattered aimlessly around the toilet bowl. I immediately start looking for the mummy.
B. No toilet paper (just poop) in the bowl.
Here's the thing, how can I turn this into a life lesson? I mean you see the problem don’t you? I don’t really want to turn this into a lesson, but here it is right in front of me. It’s the same problem day after day and Charlie doesn’t seem to grasp this basic human postulate: If you smell like doodie people won’t want to be around you. And by people, I mean me. So last night after he climbed into bed and I caught a smell of what can only be described as “Jesus Christ Charlie!” I had to take him into the bathroom and give a lesson on how to wipe better. It wasn’t “fun.” It was not “glamorous.” It was however, necessary.
I kept wondering what he must have been thinking. Amidst all the giggling-- I’m thinking he was rather pleased with himself and that is just plain rude! Now right in the middle of my “wipe and repeat as necessary” lecture he is laughing so hard he is having to hold onto the toilet bowl to keep from sliding into it. And he keeps laughing, “Mommy smell my finger” So I told him that doodie is full of bacteria and getting it anywhere near your own or another human beings face is totally wrong because it can make you and others sick. Of course, now I have to explain why this is true, and I cannot say to him, “like dah!”
Here is the website we landed on and it does a pretty good job of explaining poop and why it is full of bacteria, you know, because I’m sure you’re simply dying to know this, immediately.
And because boys regard anything that occurs south of their navel to be, well, FASCINATING, Charlie really enjoyed this lesson.
If you have a son you will understand this better than if you have a daughter because poop is magical to boys. If poop were in a band, it would be Led Zeppelin. If poop were a religion, it would most certainly be Christian, and if poop could talk it would be like, “Vote for me. I stink less than Bush.”
I feel bad Einstein spent the latter part of his life in a reclusive state determined to find the link between electromagnetism and gravity when he could have been wiping four-year old bottom. Yes genius, the mystery to all things comes down to this, shit just happens.
Em-K? You’re welcome.