My Garden

My garden has things I did not plant.  Things I try to keep out of the garden. 

It is full of sunflowers, mint, and children.

Today I am planting hope. 

We dream of ripe tomatoes, cucumbers from the vine, and potatoes deep beneath the soil.

We search for the perfect plants at greenhouses near and far.  We choose them by how healthy they look.   

But the ground is not good. 

So the plants wither. 

We add compost, manure, leaves.  We till and hoe until we think there is not one weed left. 

But we always miss one.  And from one come many.

And the plants die. 

We water, water, water, but it is never enough.  We pray for rain.

Then the rain comes and the potatoes rot. 

The cucumbers yellow. 

The tomatoes die. 

Let’s plant something else say the children.

So we plant flowers.  It is too late in the season to expect that any vegetable will grow before it gets too hot.

Then we water, water, water, but it is never enough. 

Then it becomes a water fight. 

Then it becomes a slip and slide.

Then we are muddy. 

Then we all have sunburn. 

And the flowers die.
 

But the sunflowers, mint, and children grow.

It Happens!

“What goes in must come out.” – motherhood proverb

 

Today we’re going to talk about poop.  (Sorry if the lovely photo distracted you into thinking this would be a lovely post, but I thought a picture of the subject would be totally tacky.)  So if you don’t like talking about poop or reading about poop, read no further. 

Sorry you had to read poop three times already. 

Wait, that makes four….

Anyway, I consider myself the undocumented Poop Queen.  With a husband, two children, four cats, one dog, twelve chickens, three ducks, a horse, a pony, two hamsters, two fish, two geese, and a regularly irritable bowel, I’m surrounded by it every day. 

No, really...

My yard is full of it!! 

And there are things you learn about it over the years.  Like “Don’t lick your lips while mowing the pasture.”  Things like that. 

I actually think I could write a whole book containing nothing but poop stories.  Any publishers willing to take me up on that out there?  Let me know.  I’ll start writing it in the bathroom.  It would probably be a blowout!! 

Sorry… 

So, last night we had a funny poop story involving a complete stranger.  Well, he’s not now, as we have sufficiently bonded over poop, but I’m still laughing about the whole incident today.  So here it is:

We were at the YMCA and a new guy was working the desk.  I’d seen him once before but hadn’t talked to him yet, but he seemed like a jovial kind of guy.  One that borders on hilarity.  My soccer team was finished swimming and after getting dressed in the men’s locker room, my son comes out and tells us that someone has pooped on the floor!  He proceeds to describe the evidence in terms of length and girth.  I tell him to just go and tell the new guy at the front desk and he’ll take care of it.  I add that describing the evidence was NOT necessary! 

So I watch as my son goes to the new guy and tells him what’s wrong, complete with hand gestures like he’s measuring off his latest catch at the lake.  I’m mortified that my kid is describing the turd, but I notice a slight look of panic on the new guy’s face.  And it makes me laugh.

After all the kids are carted off by their parents, I go up to the new guy and say, “Hey, good luck with that turd,” and give him a wink and a smile.  Yeah, that’s the kind of person I am.  In case you didn’t know by now.

The new guy launches into an ADHD frenzy about how he’s new and the other guy is new and they have no idea how to handle the situation.  They don’t know where the cleaning products are, they don’t know what to do……

So I say, “Here’s what you do:  Just go tell the lifeguards there is a turd in the men’s locker room.  They’re used to it.  They fish those things out of the pool all the time!”  I told him it was called Turd Alert.

A look of relief came over new guy’s face.  It was obvious he was NOT a parent.  He would have never been so terrified of such a bodily product if he were.

Things I’m laughing about today:  What is the new guy’s name?  I figure we are now poop buddies or something.  Did the lifeguards have to clean it up for him, or did the cleaning crew walk in to find a “present”?  Have I started an official title for such an incident at the Y?  And, what kind of person just poops on the floor and doesn’t tell anyone? 

Oh wait, that’s another story…...

One day, many moons ago, we were all outside having a grand old time doing something.  One of our kids disappeared into the house for an inordinately long period of time.  I thought I should go check on him. 

I hear a yell from the bathroom the minute I enter the house:  “Be careful!!!!  Don’t step on it!!” 

“What??!!??” I say as I walk closer to the bathroom. 

And then I see it.  There on the kitchen floor. 

“I prayed that Jesus would come and take away my mess!!” he said.  “But Jesus didn’t come!!”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so disgusted or on the verge of busting out laughing so bad before or since.

I told him Jesus wanted me to know he was having trouble with that and that’s why Jesus didn’t clean up his mess. 

But really, maybe he should have called for a lifeguard!

May all your bodily functions make someone else’s day today!


PS - this is my second blog post under nearly the same name.  Sorry, but I can't think of a better one for it.  I'm open to suggestions.  Here's the other 'It Happens!