The Unmentionable

I know I still have some questions to answer, but I must inform you of a recent happenstance.

This post, of which I am about to write, is guaranteed to make you feel better about your day.

Maybe.

Before we proceed, I must warn you that this post shall talk about poop.

A lot.

Since I consider myself a lady, I shall not be littering this page with "poop" this and "poop" that.  No.  I am far too high-class for that business.

From here on out, "poop" shall be referred to as "the unmentionable."

Even though I have already mentioned it many times thus far.

***

Earlier today, Handsome Dude walked by me and said, "Hi, Mom!  I not smell poop!"

(I know, I know.  But it would be weird if he called poop, "the unmentionable."  I shall call it the unmentionable starting now.)

(I promise.  Don't leave.)

I looked at him and did a visual check for "the unmentionable."  Since I didn't see anything amiss, I went back to loading the camp trailer.

You may ask, "Taylor!  Have you not met your son, Handsome Dude?  Warning!  Danger! Something is wrong!"

I know, dear readers.  I know.  But when a gal, such as myself, is getting her family of six ready for a weekend of wilderness fun, she tends to remain vigiliant on her tasks at hand.

A little while later, I noticed the bathroom door was locked.  Trust me, this is not rare with my dudes.

Have you met them?

Anyways.  Who has time to prompty unlock a bathroom door?  Certainly not me.  So, I went about my camping tasks, when I noticed a foul order permeating from the aforementioned locked bathroom.

The odor was unmentionable.

(Do you get it?)

So, I went to find the metal thingie that my husband supplied me with for emergencies such as this.

You KNOW, readers!  The metal thingie.  It's like . . .long . . . and thin? And you stick it in the door?  And you wiggle a lot and poof! the door unlocks.

Well, I couldn't find it.  But I did find a random twig laying on the ground.  I would like to say this is rare, but we all know that would be a lie.

The twig was long and thin and looked eerily like a metal thingie.  So, I tried that and darn my luck the twig broke off and became lodged in the door handle where it still sits there at this very hour.

No!  I did not tell my husband!  I am hoping he will never notice.  And if he does notice, he will probably figure one of the dudes did it.

Have you met them?

Lucky for us, he doesn't read this blog, so we'll just keep the whole twig incident between us.

Finally, I found the metal thing and was able to open the door.

And would you like to know what I found when I opened that door?

The largest "unmentionable" known to man sitting right there on the bathroom floor, mere inches away from the toilet.

It was so large, I did not know from whence it could have come.  But after a bit of deductive reasoning and the process of elimination (no pun intended), I determined the unmentionable item had to have come from Handsome Dude.

But, why?

He has never unmentioned anything on the floor in the past.  And why did he choose to unmention mere inches from the toilet?

So, I cornered my Handsome Dude.

Me:  Dude.  Mommy saw the bathroom.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up, people!) What bafroom?

Me:  The guest bathroom.

(Attention all would-be guests to Ruralville.  You might want to do a sanitation check before using our hospitable, guest bathroom.  Over and out.)

HD:  Mommy's bafroom?

Me:  No, the guest bathroom.

HD:  The downstairs bafroom?

Me:  No, the guest bathroom.  Mommy saw what was in there.

HD:  Huh?

Me:  I want you to tell me what happened.  I want you to tell me the truth.  You won't be in trouble, just don't lie to me.

HD:  Ummm . . . I think Cokey peed in there?  I not know?

Me:  Buddy.  I saw it.  Don't lie.  Just tell the truth.

HD:  I not know.  Nufing happened?  I not know.

So, my dude declined to tell the truth at first, but finally he owned up to it.

HD:  I was going potty and I was standing and then I just had to go poo and I not stop it and it went on the floor!

(cry, wail, sob)

HD:  And I try to pick it up and it was too hard.

(cry, wail, sob)

Me:  So you just locked the door and left?

HD:  Yes!

(cry, wail, sob)

Me:  Did you wash your hands?

HD:  No!  Why?

*sigh*

So, today was a funky adventure.

I'm sorry for all the bathroom talk.

Good night.

PS-Diet Vanilla Pepsi is God's gift to diet sodas.

PPS-It smells like up-dog in here.