Potty Mouth

I have already given strong indication that bathroom humor is not my gig.

I am a behind-closed-doors type of gal. Johnny Mac is too. Some people want an open door ticker tape parade in their lav. Not me. Don't enter and certainly, don't stand outside the door and want to chitty chat.

You know when you start talking openly and frequently about all kinds of biological processes? When you become a parent. I could deduct that it would be a topic of conversation but how naive I was. The biological processes of your offspring will be a primary source of focus from day of birth until, oh, I will let you know.

We have had the opportunity to discuss diaper content on a daily basis for two plus years. Did he poop? When did he poop? What did it look like? Was it rabbit poop? Poop pancake? He hasn't pooped. What do we do to get him to poop?

At a family event last Christmas, little man was wearing a Santa outfit (and yes, that was ALL my idea.) Questioning whether a diaper change was needed, I did what every parent does. I picked him up and smelled his tush zone. The coast was clear but when I put him down, I noticed JohnnyMac's 16 year old sister AND her 18 year old boyfriend staring at me with a mixture of fright, horror and disgust.

I said to them, "Let that serve as birth control for both of you."

Poop talk is not quite as fun as it could be, but it is a parental requisite. And since we are just about done with the potty training process, now three of us get to talk about going potty, whats it like, what do we do with tissue, and where do the poops go?

Oh, and the first time our 2 year old went poop in the potty. OHBOY! Never before have you seen such a demonstration of joyful delight and jubilee. Who knew I would pull out some of my high school cheerleader moves over such an occurrence. But I did. More than once.

And that is all fine. But you know what hasn't changed? I still don't want to talk about poop. I will talk about poop when it comes to the little man, but Mommy still likes the door closed. If its not completely relevant to someone wearing diapers, its not a topic of conversation.

So to our neighbor, The Trapper, who told me about your diarrhea. Are you insane? Excuse me, I was just talking a stroll around the neighborhood and somehow ended up in the men's locker room. STOP THAT.

And special note: According to my BFF, MarciaGarcia, for someone who doesn't like to talk about poop, I am doing it. She did mention a warning would be nice. Hopefully you are not eating while you read this.