Everybody poops, dude.

We don't have this book, but I am sure I'll get it eventually.  However, I feel like I need to put it in the bathroom.  At work.

I don't get why people get so DISGUSTED by noises in the bathroom, that they themselves make. 

Today I was in the bathroom, and washing my hands, and another woman was doing the same.  Someone was in the stall, and let out the tiniest little "I might have to poop but I am not sure so I kind of just released some gas" noise (you ALL know what I am talking about).

The woman next to me looks at me, disgusted.

WHY??  Are you so amazing that you have such elegant poop that it never makes a noise coming out of you?  That you never release gas in any form?  And when you do poop, is it pink and purple and flower shaped, and leaves no residue for you to wipe off, and the toliet paper comes out cleaner than before you touched it?

I didn't think so.

We've all had stomachaches.  We've all been constipated, had diarrhea, had bad gas.  We've all had the incredibly noisy, splash back up on your ass, smells like death poop.  ALL OF US.  EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO USES YOUR WORK BATHROOM.

Why, then do people act like the person in the stall is doing this on purpose?  Like they have some sort of control over the sounds, noises, splashes, smell their poop makes?

Sure, certain things you eat might lead to smellier, messier, grosser poop.  But oh well. 

Shit happens.

You're not cool unless you poop in the tub.

I've heard the stories.  My best friend Kristine's poop stories are legendary.  LEGENDARY.   But it hadn't happened to us.   That is, until last night.

We are in full swing daily bath season, because PJ being a typical boy, is filthy by the time the day is done.  Which is fine with me, because he's having fun, and really that is all that matters.  So the past two nights, before getting in the tub, my naked baby peed on me.  It's not the first time, it won't be the last time, but peed on me nonetheless.  So last night, when getting him ready for the bath, I said, "Don't pee on Mommy tonight!"  I should have known.

We get in the tub and all is well.  PJ's swimming around, playing, enjoying himself.  Suddenly, he stops swimming and just is sitting there on all fours.  I think nothing of it.  All of a sudden I look, and like the baby ruth floating in the water in Caddyshack, there's poop.  Two pieces. 

"OH MY GOD!! PJ!""  I yelled.  I grabbed him out of the water, and BURST out laughing.

John comes running in.  "What happened?"

"PJ pooped in the tub!"  Mind you this entire time, PJ is clutching his foam letter L (so nice, was that for Mommy buddy) and smiling.

I could. not. stop. laughing.  I laughed the entire time I got PJ dressed, the entire time I scooped the poop out of the tub, and the entire time I rinsed the tub down.  Luckily, it was not much poop and it didn't do much damage at all.

Ah motherhood.   You never think, "One day, I'm gonna be scooping shit out of my bathtub."

I love you PJ.

And if you are wondering, I got the poop out by putting a baggie on my hand and scooping it.  Good times.