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"We Don't Eat Poop"“We don’t eat poop.” It’s a common phrase in our house. Often followed by “Only food.” As in “We don’t eat poop - only food.” It is so common that the disgusting little phrase has even shown up in our prayers for loved ones. Don’t ask me why. The origin of the phrase is a bit sketchy, as, you know, I have five kids and that does nothing for my ability to remember important facts, such as when the whole family started saying “We don’t eat poop – only food.” But I’m fairly sure it came out of my mouth first when our little dog wolfed down a hunk of my three year old’s fecal matter. We won’t get into the gag reflex that I still have when I think of it. Today was by far the worst moment involving poop that I’ve had as a mother. Which is quite amazing, as I’ve had many poop moments to speak of with my four crazy boys. But it wasn’t one of my rowdy boys that disgusted me so badly. It was my beautiful, delicate little Miss Darlin that catapulted herself into the poop-eating hall of fame. I know you are thinking, “What could she have possibly done that was so bad.” Well, it involves poop. And it involves eating. Of course, you knew that. I was giving her a bath when the two year old decided that he wanted one too. As I was taking his clothes off, I realized he had a dirty diaper. He brought me some wipes and I began to clean him up in preparation for bath time, which doesn’t exactly make sense, but we wouldn’t want poop floating in the bathtub, would we? I wiped him up, shoved the dirty wipes in the diaper, but didn’t fold it over and close it up. Mistake #1. I laid the diaper on the side of the tub, because our trashcan was sitting in the kitchen with powerful cleansers working magic to get some gross smell out of it. Mistake #2. I finish cleaning and drying the kids off and I take both of them into the bedroom to diaper and dress. As I was chasing the two year old around…ok…I wasn’t actually chasing him around. I was sitting on my fat, lazy butt in the middle of the floor, trying to grab the little booger without getting up. I digress. The sguirmy little thing came close enough to grab, so I dressed him and diapered him (but not in that order.) Before I could finish with Miss Darlin, one of the other boys needed something, so I ran off to see what was going on. I mentally told myself that I shouldn’t let Miss Darlin wander into the bathroom because she might fall into the toilet. But, since I’ve had four boys who never managed to fall into the toilet, I ignored my ‘inner voice’. Mistake #3. I got done with whatever had taken my attention away from dressing the kids and began to look for a naked child crawling around in the house. Perhaps I should have sent my husband to look for her. When I found her, she had pulled herself up to the side of the tub, stuck her tiny fist into her brother’s diaper, retrieved a great big, blob of black poop, and was licking it like it was lollipop. Yeah, they don’t sell those at the candy store. I tried not to throw up all over my daughter, further adding to her absolute disgustingness and I sat that child back in the bathtub and scrubbed the All of my children have eaten poop, they get it from their father, but up until now it has only been their own poop that has made its way into their mouths. What? You have perfect, little robot children who don’t pull their dirty diapers off in the middle night and paint poop murals on their wall (while taking a few tastes?) Well, I feel sorry for you. Life just isn’t exciting until you have witnessed poop-eating. Come to my house, I can probably arrange a showing. 8:56 PM - Jun. 18, 2009 - post comment
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