I was looking up what date Thanksgiving fell on this year on an online calendar. At the bottom of the page it had some links to related articles. One of the articles was about the day after Thanksgiving and what people called it. Most people I know refer to it as Black Friday. This article said that there was a certain group of people that referred to it with a different color.
The article claimed that plumbers refer to the day after Thanksgiving as Brown Friday, because it’s their busiest day of the year for pipe and septic blockages.
I find that to be incredibly humorous.
Lately, my daughter has been wanting me to make up a story for her on the spot every night when I put her into bed. Actually, she wants “two or three long, spooky stories”. I have no problem with that. I’ll normally oblige her by coming up with one before I leave the room. There are some nights, however, that it’s not easy for me. Like last night….
It wasn’t coming up with a story that I was having a problem with. It was the fact that I had to go to the bathroom when my wife decided it was time for them to go to bed. I groaned. Of course that was the perfect time for them to lay down.
I accompanied them upstairs and put Baby E into bed. I tried to walk away. She started complaining that I didn’t tell her a story. I explained that I couldn’t tell her a story because I really had to go to the bathroom. Those complaints quickly turned into whines. So, I caved in and told her a really quick story.
Once upon a time, there was a little girl who wouldn’t let her daddy go to the bathroom because she wanted to hear a story. So, her daddy tickled her over and over and over until she finally said he could go. Her daddy went to the bathroom and lived happily ever after… now that he was finally allowed to poop.
She was unimpressed. I thought it was great. What do you think?
Me: Baby E, why is there poop all over the toilet seat?
Baby E: I have diarrhea.
Me: Why didn’t you come get me or mommy?
Baby E: I don’t know.
Me: Next time tell one of us, honey.
Baby E: Why?
Me: Because now it’s dried onto the toilet seat and will be harder for Daddy to clean.
Baby E: Ohhhhhhhhhh….. ok.
It has been far too long since my last Movement Movement post, which is a crime. I believe in the Movement Movement. I believe that as a society we should get past the stigma associated with talking about bowel movements. It’s not a big deal. Everyone poops. We all have to deal with it. So, why is it that it’s not supposed to be brought up in polite conversation?
Besides, how are me and Miss Four Eyes supposed to take over the world without our movements?
This post will be about something that most, if not all, parents will understand.
It’s potty training time in our household. Baby E has been doing pretty well with it. Something happened the other day that I feel I must share because it is hilarious.
I was watching T.V. when she ran up to me and yelled, “I need to poopy!”
That means I have to follow her to the bathroom because she isn’t tall enough to reach the light switch yet. I turn it on and go back to watching T.V. (our bathroom is right next to the living room so I was still close to her). A minute goes by and I don’t hear anything from her. I started getting worried because, as every parent knows, silence is never a good thing. I was just about to go check on her when I heard it.
It was a very loud grunt, followed by my sweet, little baby girl screaming, “Come out, poopy! Come out! ”
I love my daughter. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.
This seems like an appropriate post for post number 69 on my blog. No, it’s not about sex, but it is my Movement Movement post. This morning my movement came out smoothly, but it was green. Can anyone guess what I drank last night?
Everywhere you go now, you will hear people talking about burping. They will talk about passing gas. It is now considered socially acceptable to talk about these bodily functions. I consider this progress, as it is important to talk about these things. After all, if you didn’t burp or fart, you’d explode from the gas build up.
There’s still something that is still considered inappropriate to talk about: