They’ll Be The Death Of Me Yet
Those of you who read my post yesterday know that this New Year I will have to play a rousing game of Find A Metal Ball In A Pile Of Shit. Yes, my six year old swallowed a metal ball, and to make sure that it passes harmlessly I need to gather, inspect, and more than likely perform a home biopsy on his excrement. Worse yet, Child Protective Services informs me that arranging to put your child up for adoption after the 24th trimester is highly unorthodox and not likely to succeed. I have resigned myself to my fate.
After dinner, my son informed me that he needed to “P-O-O-P”. Why he all of a sudden decided to spell a word that he gleefully shouts in fine dining establishments, I do not know, but his newfound fecal reluctance presaged his reaction to my shit gathering strategy. I certainly wasn’t going to go fishing for it, and I know for a fact that he will never in a million years shit into a container that he is holding. So I opted for the Saran Wrap gathering technique.
This technique calls for you to cover the toilet bowl with Saran Wrap, leaving enough of a sag to catch the elusive quarry, and then lower the seat. After the magic happens, you simply fold the Saran Wrap over the turd and mail it to your mother-in-law. No, wait, that’s a different strategy. Disregard that. You fold the Saran Wrap over the shit and lightly smoosh it through the Saran Wrap to see if there is a metal ball in there somewhere. Some people claim that you should put the shit in a colander and run hot water over it. Never accept dinner invitations from these people.
So I hunched over the bowl and affixed the Saran Wrap. “What is that!?!” my son demanded to know.
“It just catches your poopie,” I reassured him. “You don’t have to touch it or anything. Just poop like you always do.”
“No. Way.“
Six year olds can be surprisingly obstinate when they want to be, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that in order to get him to shit on the fucking Saran Wrap, I was going to have to weave some serious Daddy magic, likely involving a promise to take him to Disney Land (which I would then reneg on because that shit is crazy ‘spensive). As I was adjusting the Saran Wrap and formulating my strategy… WHAM! My lower back exploded. I mean, it felt like my spine snapped in half. Hunched over the toilet bowl, I let out a blood-curdling howl.
This, as it turns out, does nothing to encourage a six year old to shit into a vessel that he already had reservations about. If he’s lucky, he might shit again when he’s in his early twenties. He’d certainly be in good company. However, as I lie here, it dawns on me that I have received a reprieve. He can unload that fucker at day care tomorrow! Or he’ll shit the bed. Fuck.
Anyway, while I’m laid up, I will let a video do the heavy comedy lifting for me. Once again, alert reader B’Homey saves the day by sending in some genuine Youtube weirdness, in this case a cautionary tale of the dangers inherent in offshoring. I give you… Chinese Popeye:
He does a better job of it than Robin Williams.
What’s he fighting? Animated bags of flour?
Get well soon. You never know when that ball will drop.
I think those may be Chinese mummies. Or burn victims, in which case Chinese Popeye is a real asshole.
Ouch. So are you walking? Did you have to go to the ER? And, lastly, did the little guy ever take a dump?
I can walk gingerly with a lot of pain (not that it stops hurting if I sit or lie down), but no ER as of yet.
And no, he hasn’t taken a dump yet. I’m going to encourage him to hold it until he’s in college so someone else can deal with the problem.
They are, in fact, trying to kill you. It’s their job. Those of us around the 40-year-mark have weak spots that they manage hit with their crazy kid-voodoo. Lower back. Pinched neck-nerves. Bad knees. All we have are our brains.
We’re so screwed…
You say brain what now?
#1- Sucko about your back, I hope you feel better soon.
#2 – Re: the saran wrap MIL strategy. Thanks for the tip, my current strategy certainly hasn’t worked.
Yes, we should really exchange MIL tips one of these days. I have a feeling we’ve both got some doozies.
i am still trying to decide which I would rather happen – my back go out or have to squish turds in thin plastic wrap for the next week.
Unfortunately, you probably have to do both. I hope your next week is better.
I would take the shit squishies. My back still hurts like a mofo.
Wow, the fact that I’ve seen this video, or something very like it, says something about me, you, or B’Homey. Not sure what it says, but I’m sure it says something.
Spine Inventor? Special Ed. class for sure. I just had liver function tests done last week to make sure my pain meds aren’t killing me… I’ll need to up them when skateboarding season starts.
I absolutely empathize with your back issues.
Wait, pain meds can be bad? Next thing you know you’ll be telling me I shouldn’t chase them with grain alcohol.