Why Is It? My First Ever Poop Blog!!!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

My mom and I usually talk first thing in the morning each day.  We all know that the older we get the fewer inhibitions we have and sometimes my mom will start talking about things I do not want to talk about before I eat my daily oatmeal.  Quite frankly, in my book, there is no good time to talk about some of the stuff she brings up. If she so much as utters the words bowel movement, my heart starts to race, my stomach starts churning, and I start trying to picture myself with a different mom or on a beach somewhere with no phones.  I have asked her to find a friend that likes these kinds of discussions or to share it with a sister who does not mind, but she still tries to keep me up to date.

 

I have volunteered for many years at an Assisted Living Facility and I should know by now that the elderly like to talk about poop. Once, I asked a resident in Craft class how she was feeling and without batting an eye she responded, “I haven’t had a bowel movement in four days.” Try thinking of a witty comeback to that comment.  I mean, “I hope everything works out for you in the end,” just doesn’t seem appropriate.  Truthfully, I do not want to hear about your elimination habits, discuss any gross details, or hear what foods move things along. Just let me put on my rose colored glasses and tell myself that making poo poo is just an expression and not an actuality. It has gotten so bad, that I can’t even check out library books because I am afraid people read them on the toilet, so yes, I have issues.

 

Which brings me to my point.  Why is it that I go nuts when someone mentions poop, but I can pick up Fudge and Vern’s poop in tiny little bags without a care in the world. I actually look for cute little poop bags at the store. I have picked up their poop with Halloween poop bags, green and red bags at Christmas, pink bags, yellow bags, and I think, my personal favorite, skull and crossbones poop bags. Once, in a pinch, all I had was a baggie and it did not bother me one bit. I have no problem examining their poop for color or consistency and have actually commented, “Vern, what did you eat that was blue?”

 

Just yesterday, Vern took a nosedive into a pile of horse poop and I did not pass out.  I saw him roll, but did not see the results of the roll until we were much farther into our walk and happened to glance down and see what I mistook for a large leaf hanging off his face. Luckily, it was my husband, thinking it was a leaf too, that tried to remove it from Vern’s face.  Nothing bothers my husband and he just said, “let’s keep walking,” but I explained that when your dog is wearing another animal’s feces on his face, I think the walk is over. We went back to the car, wiped him with wipes I keep in the car for these fun emergencies, and brought him home and gave him a bath. 

 

Something is not right.  I mean, gross is gross. Why is it that I can stomach almost anything when it comes to Fudge and Vern, but I can’t when it involves the people I love?  If and when my husband and I get really old and he turns to me one night and says, “I think I need some help in the bathroom,” I am going to feel badly, but will have no problem saying,  “ I think it is time we went our separate ways.” Who knows, he may be saving that as his ace in the hole for when I really get on his nerves. Meanwhile, the irony is not lost on my mother. When she visits she loves to point out the fact that there seems to be a double standard where Fudge and Vern are concerned.  She is always saying she can hear me tell Fudge and Vern that they are the best poopers in the whole world, but if she so much as utters one letter in the word poop, I threaten to take her to the nearest hotel where she can discuss on end what prunes are good for with the hotel clerk.  After I said, “what’s your point, woman?” she said, “I think it is a load of crap!” and all I could think was, “here we go again!!

[Lisa, Daisy & Dexter]

Donna, I had those strawberry scented pink bags when Daisy was little, it was a weird smelling strawberry at best.

[Lisa, Daisy & Dexter]

I dread to say probably not, what's next?

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

F- Come FLY with us!!!!

Lisa-Good one! I wouldn't have posted it if Fudge hadn't done such a nice decorating job with the flower and all...:) Is there a "top"? LOL!!!

[Lisa, Daisy & Dexter]

Yes the stomach does get weaker as the brain gets older.

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

F, Lots of people have told me I need more pictures for my blogs. We are just giving the people what they want...LOL!!

Lisa, I have to say my DH had no problem changing diapers, but then again, neither did I. My youngest had a trach until she was four and I could do all that stuff too, which really shocked my family. I guess you do what you have to do, BUT those days are over.....LOL!!

[Lisa, Daisy & Dexter]

OH POOP! Your picture post is over the top even for you Ricki - LOL

Laurie, when your girls were babies did DH have to do the diaper changes? :o)

 

[F, Calla & Luca]

Now you guys have really gone over the edge. Good luck getting back!

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Ricki, I do see the difference :) Vern's is on the left and little Tara's is on the right. Fudge probably placed the flower in between.

[Ricki and Tara (doodle)]

Here's what I'm talkin' bout Laurie! LOL!

 

[Laurie, Fudge, and Vern]

Ricki, I knew you would appreciate a poop blog..LOL!! Thank you! Sweet little Tara even poops nicely :) Vern is not as considerate.