The Shit Heard Round the World

"You ever take a dump made you feel like you'd just slept for twelve hours?"
                                    --Ricky Roma, Glengarry Glen Ross

Can someone please explain to me why anyone, no matter what age, would hold in a crap if they had to go?

Not to be too graphic, but the last place you want to be is between me and the bathroom after a bowl of All-Bran and a pot of coffee.  The human body has an entrance and an exit, and it was built that way for a reason.

So it's inconceivable to me that our child refuses to poop.

I mean, come ON!  You're wearing a freakin' diaper! Do you know how many of us pine for the convenience of just relaxing the bowels in the middle of a meeting or during the third quarter of a football game?  You have the gift of total freedom, a gift that will only last a few more months!  Why squander those precious hours with your sphincter squeezed tighter than Heather Mills' fist on Paul McCartney's checkbook.

Imagine, if you will, what it would feel like to hold in four days' worth of food.  You'd feel as bloated as a Macy's parade balloon, and you could bounce a quarter off your belly.  Meanwhile your confused, half-digested food would be stumbling around in the dark, desperately looking for a way out.  Wouldn't the claustrophobia lead your food to take matters into it's own hands and take an alternate route out?

Cheeky cares not about these things.  The whimpering and whining is heartbreaking for the first 3 hours, but quickly becomes grating after the 78 consecutive hours that follow.  She'd walk around with her blanket shoved in her crotch, and we'd hold her and gently remind her that she's a veteran crapper who just needs to let her natural talents take over.  No luck. 

Imagine what your mood would be like if you were corked up for four days.  Now imagine if you had no sense of rationality, decorum, or accountability.  Now imagine you've inherited the emotional exuberance of your half-Italian father. 

Not good.

The human body, thank god, has the capacity to overcome our mental limitations.  After days of coaching and a doctor's visit Cheeky finally relented.  Unable to hold back the massive forces churning inside, her rectum let loose a blast so powerful it could be heard in four states.  After-shocks continued for the next several hours, as half of Cheeky's body mass was jettisoned, and after each her mood improved dramatically.  Our perky little daughter was back.

Dumbfounded and relieved, Oodgie and I prayed the crisis had passed, and prepared to return to our bucolic life of peeling stickers off appliances and watching Family Guy reruns.

Until a blanket gets shoved back into a crotch.

"My tushy hurts."

Oh shit.

Comments

[p-man]

Priceless. There should be a study on the development of self in children as developed through the exploration of one's power of fecal retention. On an unrelated note I found a mystery shit on the floor yesterday, likely removed manually from a shit-containment device by its wearer. My daughter found another nearby. She brought it to me. Good times.

[Sparky]

Hey p-man, I too found a shit on the dining room floor after my son was potty trained. The floor is not white and in no way resembles a toilet. He was likely channeling his inner dog and wanted to show how pissed he was at me. We've actually had to resort to medical intervention with a prescription of polyethyline glycol to help out Bird (dining room pooper) on more than one occasion. Deal, on the other hands, shits about 4 times a day. Bet you wish you were so lucky.

[Sarah, Goon Squad Sarah]

We just got beyond this phase. Claudia didn't poop without a suppository for like a month.

It was awful.

[Mitch McDad]

Nope. I can't relate. I'm with you in that I relish my daily movements.
Alas, my girls take after dear old dad in the pooping prowess.

Perhaps they can visit your house and do a seminar.

[the weirdgirl]

Just reading this makes my butt hurt.

[AdventureDad]

LOL! We've never had this problem. I'm proud (or maybe embarrassed) to mention me and the kids are regular poopers. At least a couple of times a day. Probably more info that you needed...

Nice weekend

AD

[Kelly]

LMFAO! I had one pooper who would wait until after the 10 minute cheer session with him on the toilet and me channeling my innermost pep squad. Then he would go behind the chair and grunt and crap in his underwear. Those were trying times.

Then my daughter came along with the biggest poops know to humankind. We tried lubricant, suppositories, mineral oil...uggh my blood pressure just went up thinking about it.

There is nothing more fun than picking up a rock in the living room with bare hands only to realize it is a human elk turd.