Or, let’s not. I know it’s probably my own fault for blogging about Anabella and her fascination with poop, but somehow, I opened a secret door and everyone now wants to talk to me about poop. I’m stranded in Poopy Universe, if you will.
My sister-in-law quit going to her bunko group a few years back because the women (a group she called “the poopy girls”) were always talking about bathroom stuff…their bathroom issues, their husbands’ bathroom issues, their kids’ bathroom issues, etc. At the time, I really didn’t believe that a group of women couldn’t find something else to gab about. But now that I am in Poopy Universe, I totally get it.
It started out slow enough. A good friend with a nickname based on a poopy story (you know who you are!)…fine, that’s funny. No problem. Then Anabella and all her shenanigans. Definitely a problem, but not much I could do about it. Next came all the poopy talk with the moms at Anabella’s school…who is playing with their poopy, who isn’t, etc. And of course the poopy talk with the teachers about potty training.
But the real fun was at the Hummer dealership. I am sitting in the salesman’s office and he is showing me all the goodies that come with the truck. Then he hands me my big owner’s manual and says “this is some good reading for the pooper.”
WTF? Then, I actually find myself gearing up for the explanation that I don’t read in the bathroom…that I am more of a “get in and get out” kind of girl…but I said to myself “the poopy talk stops here!” I don’t want to talk about what I do or don’t do in the bathroom with the dude who sold me a car. That’s just not right. I refuse.
So I am on poopy hiatus…at least for a week or two. And if you find you don’t have anything to say unless you are talking about poop, then here is something for you to “read of the pooper.” Apparently there is a whole “Institute” dedicated to that very activity!