Finally! Scatalogical Saturday Has Arrived
Some time ago, a strange gentleman, obviously not a native English speaker, was kind enough to offer to return to my blog for “Scatalogical Saturday.”
I understand he is indisposed at the moment, but perhaps they have wifi that reaches his cell. I don’t know.
But in honor of his probable return at some future date, I bring you: poop.
I have refrained from titling this post with that particular word, in hopes that the pervs who constantly found my “to pee or not to pee” entry will not find this one.
See, I deal in poop. It’s the currency of motherhood, the end result of what moms do. My little Beckett, who all day long says, “daddydaddydaddydaddy,” when asked, “Who feeds you?” Replies, “Mahi.” That’s what my name sounds like when emanating from a beautiful baby named after a morose playwright.
About the poop: I am a princess! I am not supposed to be wiping asses and shaking solids into the toilet! This is not what Disney geared me up for with all those movies. I mean, hell! Even Cinderella didn’t have to touch excrement and she was a flouncing* slave!**
So today, daddy comes in with Beckett and tells me, “It’s a big one.”
I plunk him in the bathtub to strip him because there’s just no other way to handle these things. Ethan, being the odd duck that he is, wants to see it, insists on seeing it.
“Oh my god!” he says, and runs off.
Seconds later, he returns with his camera.
“I’ve got to get this on film!”
I’m betting it will never make the Disney cut.
*Flouncing. Come on, aren’t you tired of freaking? And frigging is so last decade.
**I am so not a princess. I’m not even like a baroness twice removed or anything. I might be a courtier or even a eunuch! Or maybe I’m getting my terms confused. Anyway, just so you know, I accept the shit because…wait for it…it happens.