Together We Can

The following conversation was overheard during dinner this week:

All-a-Boy: "The Reflections contest is coming up soon. I think I'm going to draw a picture for my entry. The theme is 'Together We Can' so I think I want to draw a clown fish and a sea anemone and title it 'Together We Can Be Safe'."

Cowgirl: "Want to know what I'm going to do?"

All-a-Boy: "No. You'll probably draw a clown fish and an anemone just to copy me."

Princess: "Or you could draw a cute puppy!"

Cowgirl: "No, I want to take a picture of you two with your arms around each other and call it 'Together We Can Do Anything.' "

Hubba: "Well, I'll draw a puppy. No, I'll draw TWO puppies. Two puppies POOPING! And I'll call it 'Together We Can Poop'!"



You've gotta love the mind of a 5-year-old boy.

Perspective Of One

Every time I see this marquee in front of my kids' elementary school I can't help but snicker.

I mean, really, what does it mean?!

Are they planning on the school toilets overflowing that day?

Or is it an acronym...

Parents Opposing Orneriness?

Pursue Other Opportunities?

Point Of Order?

I would absolutely love to get your opinions on this. Please, the side of me that has giggle-fits over 12-year-old humor is dying to hear your take.

A Child's Prayer

In a prayer over breakfast (by Princess):


... And bless us to be safe. And good. And nice to everyone. And bless the food.

And bless that everyone in the world will not be constipated.


When her prayer was finished (and my laughter was stifled) I asked her if she knew what constipated meant.

"Yeah!" she said, "Remember when you showed me how to say it in sign language?"

Actually, no. I don't remember. I don't deny it, but I can not recall sitting down with my 6-year-old and showing her how to sign 'constipated'.

She then proceed to show me the various signs for different types of poop, thus confirming her story.

And so I stand corrected.

But hey, the good news is... no constipation for anyone today!

Making The Best Of It

(photo from flickr.com)

Today I was at WalMart getting an oil change. The wait? 1 hour, 15 minutes.

No problem, I thought, trying to make the best of it. I can go to the bank, purchase some groceries and eat a small container of Cherry Garcia all by myself.
I finished my business at the bank. Bought groceries, including Cherry Garcia. Sat on a bench and consumed my treat. Checked the time: only an hour had passed.

Close enough, I assumed, heading back to the automotive center.

"Your car has not even come into the garage yet. It will be at least another hour," the boy with 2 humongous holes in his earlobes told me.

"I was told an hour and 15 minutes," I replied (sweetly).

"You were told wrong. It's at least another hour," Earlobe Boy answered (teenagerishly).

I decided to peruse the electronics section.

Then the music aisles.

And then the toys.

I wandered aimlessly, scanning the Legos and action figures and trains and princess clothing before I came to them: the Littlest Pet Shop figures. And suddenly I came alive. Remember this post? Well, my birthday is THIS WEEK and I had forgotten all about the little doggy who came with his own potty training accessories!! I totally deserve it I convinced myself as I rummaged through the LPS animals.

Another lady came along and joined me.

"Looking for a certain one?" she asked. "My daughter has almost all of them," she told me with a smile.

"Actually, yes, I am looking for a certain one..." I answered, continuing my search. Turtles, cats and fish (oh, my!)... but not the doggy I was looking for.

"I can help you find it," she continued. "Is it a bird? Some of those are tough to find."

Me: "It's a dog."

Lady: "What comes with it?"

Me: "Um, a newspaper... and a shovel... and a little plastic (trying to keep my composure and be mature...) poop."

Lady: "What?"

Me: "A plastic pile of poop."

Lady: "They don't make one like that."

Me: "Actually, I saw one at KMart a while back. I wanted my daughter to get it but she thought it was disgusting."

Lady: (knowingly) "Okay." (looking up and down the aisle) "Is there a camera somewhere?"

Me: "What do you mean?"

Lady: "You know, like, Surprise! We got you!"

Me: (seriously trying to suppress my laughter) "Nope, no camera. I'm really looking for a little dog that comes with its own pooper scooper and poop."

Lady: "Hmmm." (continues to look, quietly)

I investigated every single package (to no avail!) before hearing Earlobe Boy announce my name over the intercom. My vehicle was ready. No toys for me today.

"You have a good one," I told my fellow LPS toys-peruser as I turned to leave.

"Plastic turd toys. Leave it to KMart," she said under her breath.

I haven't stopped smiling yet.

Don't You Want To Lick The Bowl?

A friend sent me an email recently detailing a new restaurant that I think would become BIG if brought to the states.

It's called "Modern Toilet".
The seats are made from toilet bowls, the tables are glass-topped sinks.

The food is served in toilet bowls.

And the final course, served in mini-urinals, looks mighty tasty.

Anyone for dessert?

Poop Poop Poop Poop

I wonder, did you see the title of this post and consider NOT reading on? It is really funny to me how uncomfortable the word can make people feel. I mean, we all do it... me, you, animals.

As teens my brother and I even came up with our own acronym so we could talk about poop in mixed company: PONAS. Love it. It became my favorite exclamation.

Didn't make the cut for the play? PONAS!

Didn't get asked to the dance? PONAS!

Burned the cookies? POnAS!

(Have fun deciphering it. It's a little gift from me to you - a puzzle of sorts. You're welcome.)

That being said, my heart gave a little flutter when I saw this at the store the other day:

This toy "...comes with its very own newspaper, pile of puppy poop and pooper scooper accessories."

Cowgirl and I were looking for a birthday gift she could give to a friend from school. I thought, mission accomplished! the second I saw it, but Cowgirl was horrified and refused to gift such a thing. She thought it was disgusting.

That made it even funnier.

I would have bought it for myself, but I held back.

Besides, my birthday will be here before I know it.

There's A New Toy In Town...

Do you think my little 3-year-old towhead will be more motivated to be potty trained if I offered him these lovable stuffed toys as a prize? I must admit, these are right up my alley as far as being disgustingly humorous, but it doesn't seem right to give them to a child to play with.

I'd love to have a set on my bathroom shelf, though.

Maybe these underwear would make potty training a little more fun for me to endure?

See for yourself what other goodies the "Pee and Poo" Company has to offer!

My Halloween Evolution

As a child I wore this Witchiepoo costume (from H & R Pufnstuf) for as long as I can remember. Even after the brittle mask cracked and broke, I continued to wear the plastic costume. I loved being Witchiepoo.

Many years later, as a high school student, my friends and I wanted to go get some free candy on Halloween. (Isn't that all that teenagers go trick-or-treating for?) Alas, I did not have a costume, and only about $2.00 to my name. I knew most costumes were clearance priced on Halloween, so I went to the local mall to look for a bargain find.

I didn't find anything that cost even close to $2. But I did find some fart spray at Spencer's Gifts, and that got me thinking...what do people use fart spray for?? Maybe if they were a piece of poop?

My Halloween costume was decided.

I found a black trash bag (brown was not readily available) and cut out 2 leg holes, put on a black shirt, colored my face somewhat black and took a look in the mirror.

Not enough.

I drew a couple of flies, cut them out and taped them to the trash bags.

A little better.

I knew what would complete the outfit. I put my hair in a ponytail on top of my head, with more elastics in succession to achieve a tapered look up top.

Perfect!

I knew this blog would be incomplete without pictures, because who would believe me? I emailed my friend Julie, who pretty much documented my entire teenage life with her camera, and asked if she had any poop pictures.

Julie delivered (as I knew she would), and I present to you my completed look - Gerb the Poop, 1988.




I better not hear anyone saying they couldn't come up with a last-minute costume this year! I'm giving up one of my greatest ideas here.


And that, friends, is how I evolved from Witchiepoo to...well, just Poo.