So Here's the Poop...

Poop. We all know about it, we all do it, we all think about it…not perpetually, but it’s just part of life. There “ain’t no gettin’ around it” unless you’re treadin’ carefully in a pasture (and that can be hard if you’ve ever tried, walkin’ the pasture, that is). No matter how socially humiliating or gross we can make this subject, it’s just there – stuck on the soles of our everyday life. (No apologies for the pun, but I’ll try to stop.)
My children and I like to frequent book stores in our area. We love to browse around, not only the books, but the trinkets, games, and novelty stuff that’s usually found on these retail ramblings. You know when you’re exploring and you stumble across that one item that you know you have to have! It’s a treasure, a booty of sorts (ok, forgive that one, please). It’s that something that almost seems out-of-place because you don’t see another one around. You know that it must have been left there just for you! Well, this wasn’t exactly one of those moments. However, it was one in which I said to myself…"I am going to buy this, if for no other reason, to prove that I actually saw it!" My friend, here is the evidence…

Please tell me I am not the only one who has found an actual, working POOP ERASER!  And in case you were wondering, they claim it to be "Totally FUNctional".  As you will note, it comes with its own toilet and tiolet paper. And, for those “oh crap” moments, when you need it, it has a handy little plunger. As if finding the poop wasn’t enough, upon opening it, I had to do it!  I smelled it!  Oh my word - it actually smells like chocolate. That’s right! How ironic is it that you can now erase your mistakes with a pile of chocolate- smelling POOP? Now my questions (not sure if I want them answered, but): What was the “concept session” like the day this was ruminated; the inspiration seems evident, but when exactly did this concept “hit” the “artist” (just go with me here – I’m past asking for forgiveness, this is just too easy); the sales pitch, for goodness sake, who gave the OK; marketing...oh, so much could be said; and finally, what would an order for this product sound like over the phone? We could continue, but why?
The first thing I did, of course, was to grab my phone and begin texting all my BF’s and FM’s (that’s family members for those of you not hip enough for the latest totally made up initials because we don’t have time to say or type the whole word any more). They had to know! If only I had the ability to send pics –then I would instantaneously be able to prove my find and share my UM (no, not Alice’s name in Wonderland, but Unbelievable Moment). I can take pics with my phone, I can text, I just can’t text pics! Flitter!
Less than a week later, I stumbled upon a gem of a website. No, I wasn’t researching or googling the word “poop”. This advertisement happened upon a sidebar to an email account I have & caught my eye. You can hypothesize about the 5 to 10 minutes that ensued. With a sparkle of curiosity in my eye and my mouth pursed, I opened and found…

What!? You may visit their websiste at:   http://turdtape.com.  I’ll let it speak for itself, but capitalizing on this one natural function of the body is about over the edge, don’t you agree? Though some of the testimonials - yes, they have them, were kinda funny!  Finding this was about like discovering a beautiful picture made from dryer or belly button lint or the artwork from a man who paints by vomit! Ok – no matter how “glamorous” you try to sell your product – it won’t adorn my wall! But I have heard the “guys talk” of the occasional “big one”, the colossal colon buster. Sorry, but the feeling is mutual on this subject as well – don’t want to see it! What would persuade you in any situation to solicit, “you gotta see this!” ( aside from it maybe coming out gold-plated or diamond encrusted and even then, really)? (Please don’t pay attention to the grammatical and punctuation mistakes in any of my articles – my brain works at differing speeds than the rest of me!)
Two other “Poop-oddities” I have run across lately: On a morning radio show, a lady called in to inform the listeners that she inspects her young children’s poop to see what the babysitter has fed them that day – the segment is called, “Does That Make Me Crazy?” (many of you are familiar with it) and my answer is, ummm, yeah – crazy and GROSS! Then there’s the Raindeer Poop Necklace that is supposedly magical. Don’t want any of that “enchantment” hanging on my neck, sorry Dasher. Yes, glamorized or commercialized, no matter what we do with it…it’s still POOP, and regardless, it ALL STINKS.

To Tell the "Trooch"

If you work with children on a daily basis, if you have ever or are currently raising children, or if you can even faintly remember being a child, then you can identify with a predicament in which I found myself a couple of years ago.

There are those little words in life - substitutes, if you will, that we use for "unmentionable" things. They are those funny little "hush" words like "poopoo", "teetee", or "potty". They are considered publically more appropriate than use of the actual word they replace. This is why we don't see 3yr olds running around whining, "I have to have a bowel movement, Mom!" Just doesn't even sound right, come on!

I am sure we can all remember sniggering at the words "goober", "doodie", "boobie", etc. I remember the shock and awe of hearing, for the first time, the word "pitywee". WHAT! And oh the giggling that did persue!

My predicament came when I found myself talking to my son during his bathtime when he was around 3 or 4 yrs old. I noticed him looking intently at his chest. He finally curiously posed the question, "Mommy, what do you call these?" Not sure exactly what "these" he was addressing, I answered generally, "That's your chest."

"No Mommy. These." For some reason, he wasn't satisfied with such a general answer. "That's your chest, son." Getting exasperated with my lack of understanding and non-chalant answer, he pointed straight to his nipples and stated very loudly, "NOT THAT! THESE!" I have always tried to shoot straight with my kids, but with some sort of common sense restraint mixed in there. Realizing I couldn't squirm out of this awkward hold in time unless I totally made up something (which I've never been quick enough on the draw to do), I sighed. "They're nipples, but you might not need to say that out loud in public." My warning was void because he didn't even like that word. "That's weird. Do I have to call them that?" Relieved, I elated back, "NO - Sure you don't! You can call them anything you want. A lot of people make up names for their private parts. That's fine!"

Without hesitation, he announced, "I'm gonna call mine Trooches!" What can you say...

But no - the story doesn't end there, my friend. You know how we love to provide our children the opportunity to have a pet in life (or in my opinion, it's generally a good idea)? Well, weeks later, while cruising the isles of a local pet store, my son and daughter spied an ever popular Beta fish. How easy, right? Take it home, give it some food now and then, clean the bowl (on occasion). Got it. So we purchased the little guy and took him home. Once home and settling in with our litte Beta, the inevitable "name game" pursued. After throwing out a couple of cute fishy names, I was once again shocked and awed when my son settled the whole delima by very calmly claiming, "I am calling him Trooch." And that was that - my daughter let out a deep "Trooooooch" and the name stuck.

I can say that, to this day, it is very hard to look at a Beta and not think, "Hey, look at that little nipple swimming around in the bowl."

So, be nice to your Trooch today! Give a Trooch a home! Don't forget to feed your Trooch, etc. etc. And here's hoping that in some language, somewhere in this world, the word "Trooch" is not a negative, offensive thing.

(In the years to follow, from the same place that I am sure the word "Trooch" was plucked, my daughter decided to name a certain anatomical feature "Ladybug". And, thanks to her, I again have a whole new view of a seemingly innocent little creature.