Home and Poop

Or, Two Great Things That Go Great Together, At Least In My Family

mmcookieThe flight home last night was easy and except for the last 25 minutes or so, Bean did fantastic. Play-Doh is a great therapy session on the airplane fold-down tray, and it even afforded me the luxury of a few minutes browsing in the Sky Mall Magazine. Does anyone buy anything from those? I mean really- just opening to a random page here- is the market that hot for: a talking Yankee stadium alarm clock? or a mascara warming oven guaranteed to heat your mascara better than a hairdryer? or how about a magnetic field generator for aging wine quickly? Someone must be buying this crap. But who?

What was I saying? Oh, yeah- the flight was good. Bean was good. The whole trip was good, actually. It was quick, and I didn’t have time to really connect with anyone but my immediate family, but it was a happy trip. We had a big surprise 30th birthday party for my brother Eric. (Remember dinner? Or the Poop Balls?) There was also much time spent noodling and nosing my darling new nephew, whom Bean loved. The weather was crummy, so we spent time inside, but grandma rigged a swing for Bean and all was happy and calm. Relatively.

My cousin Michael decided to introduce someone he is dating to the family- for the very first time. Ever. Like, as in, never introduced anyone, and thought, hey, a party with 45 family members is as good a time as any, right? To his credit, all went well, but I have never seen Michael more nervous in my life. And to Vince, his date’s credit, he rolled with the overwhelming family-deep-end with panache and grace. Even when my brother pulled out the laptop to show him what we found online the day before…

To fully understand, I have to go into the back story. No, even further… So Bean and CJ, my other darling nephew, were enjoying a fine Mickey Mouse cookie Grandma brought from Disneyland. Cookies, mind you, with lots and lots of black icing. Yummmm- especially for just-5 and almost 4 year-old boys.

The next day, brother Eric comes by Mom’s with CJ, and the subject, per normal, turns to poop. (What, that doesn’t happen at your house?) He tells me CJ had a really, really green poop. So green, he documents the green-ness with a photo on his iPhone- which he proceeds to pull out and pass around. Uh-huh, yeah, wow- that really is green. What would you call it? I dunno, looks like a shamrock green to me. Or maybe like a crayon. We speculated on why poop would be virtually glowing. And, like all seeking wisdom, I popped open the notebook and Googled “green poop causes”…

Turns out it can be caused by many things, but mostly by food color- ahhhhhhh, yes, the mountains of black food color metabolize as green, and suddenly the line between Disneyland cookies and nuclear poop becomes clear. The site was actually rather fascinating, but what caught my eye was a small ad for something called the Turd Twister. Hmmmm, what could that be?


(you know you woulda wanted to)

ttWhat followed was half an hour of red-faced, laughing so hard my stomach ached and my make-up all ran off from the shedding of mirthful tears. We were laying on the floor we were laughing so hard. We were taking turns reading aloud because the other couldn’t catch their breath. Yeah, it’s that good. Well, at least if you think poop is funny. We do.

So, anyway, back to the party. Michael is there with his date, and brother Eric gets out the laptop in my mom’s formal living room and proceeds to read the whole site to Vince. Welcome to the family, dude. Sink or swim.

The Turd Twister.

You know you wanna… come on… (there are no pictures, and it’s not graphic, but it is a real product). We settled on “spaghetti” being the, um, funnest…. (and I’ll KNOW who clicks! Muah-Hahahahaha!)

10 thoughts on “Home and Poop

  1. My husband just asked me why I was in the computer room laughing like Beavis and Butthead. It is all the turd twister’s fault. That thing is pure genius. Sign me up for the churro turd.

  2. In civilized society we don’t talk about poop. But I’m a stay at home mom, it’s not civilized. We don’t call it diahreaha (sp?), it’s runny poop or the younger kids won’t know what I’m talking about. “Don’t eat any more raisins or you’ll have runny poop!”
    This is all particularly applicable when you have a toddler in diapers. I have seen the green poop of which you speak, those cookies and cakes should come with warning labels.
    Today after giving baby yogurt for a meal, the poop was white. What a rainbow world I live in!

  3. Bwahahahahaha! I’m so showing this to my husband. He’ll die laughing. Something we always laugh until we cry at is the poopie list. Hopefully Vince wasn’t too frightened by the family antics. In our family we figure, if you can’t laugh at that kind of stuff, you’re probably not a good fit for our family. And we, too, have witnessed the crayon green poop. The food coloring makes a lot of sense.

  4. It’s the gift that keeps on giving! Love it, love it, just sooo gross.

    My DH’s co-worker has young kids that are constantly painting with their feces, lovely thought I know. Maybe we can gift The Turd Twister to his family for Christmas?! We’re so thoughful that way. Thanks Tracy!

  5. We deal with a lot of poo at our house, I am thinking we need one of those. My son ate my niece’s Mickey Mouse cake, which her grand mother worked really hard on making it BLACK and he puked up the grossest black vomit you have ever seen. My sister said she never did get the stain off the carpet. I still say it was her mother in laws fault.

  6. Looking at it makes me very curious as to whether anybody has, in fact, ever actually tried to use it, or if it’s one of those things that’s never really meant to be used. Yet, at the same time, I really really don’t want to know the answer.

    My baby just started getting his first real poop rather than the previous liquid, and stinky farts. The post-lots-of-applesauce poop weirded me out because it smelled like apples. I couldn’t eat apples for a couple of days after that one.

  7. My “huh?” moment was after Thing 1 ate, like, 2 pounds of strawberries. The next day his sitter called to ask if he’d been eating sand. All those strawberry seeds went right through him, it was like the sands of the Sahara in his diaper!
    Your family sounds eerily like mine.
    Very brave Michael, very brave 😉

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