Thursday, August 31, 2006

Mopping up shit.

You don't have to read this, but then again, you might be in need of contraceptive motivation.

A faint smell of poo wafted toward me. I went to the toilet to check it. There was a smear of poo on the toilet seat and down the outside of the bowl, drips of poo on the toilet floor, drips down the corridor to the bathroom, a big puddle of poo on the bathroom floor and on the swiss ball in there. There was a rather stinky and smeared small child too. Now she's having a bath. I asked her what happened, she said
"I left a trail of poo prints and a trail of pee prints and I wanted a bath."

Was she on the toilet when she started to poo and rushed, pooing, to the bath? Was she in the bathroom, did a huge wet poo, rushed to the toilet as it leaked down her legs, almost made it on, but not quite and then waddled back to the bathroom because she was covered in poo? Did she mean to make the trails or is that just accurate description? I had spent the day encouraging her to pee in the toilet instead of on the floor, is this a demonstration of how much worse things could be?

Could be worse indeed. If I was a mother cat I'd have had to lick her clean.


Blogger Alan said...

I read this out to Becky... and she immediately guessed both the author and the subject.

And I can also tell you that stories like this are enormously funny when neither the author nor the subject are one's own family...

9:15 PM  

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