Poop...it happens.

I could not help but laugh when writing this, thinking about all these past memories! I may just randomly start using the phrase "Poop Deck" as well.

Poop

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:

• Feces, waste product from an animal's digestive tract expelled through the anus
• Defecation, the act or process by which organisms eliminate feces
• Pooper-scooper, used by pet owners to pick up their pets' fecal matter
• Stern, the rear or aft part of a ship or boat
• Poop deck, a deck that constitutes the roof of a cabin built in the aft (rear) part of the superstructure of a ship
• "To be pooped", nautical parlance meaning to have a wave come over the stern from abaft
• Poop (constellation) or Puppis, a constellation in the southern sky
• Pooped, to be fatigued.

This is not for the weak of stomach. I think poop/vomit stories are hilarious and love gross stuff. With children and pets, I think it is fair to say at some point or another, there is going to be a gross poop story. I like to paint a vivid picture so these are pretty detailed!

Brutus

Brutus is our boxer. He is a very, shall we say, special dog. I knew this was going to be the case when he was a puppy. When he was a puppy, he went through a phase when he ate every other animal's poop at "the Hill" (this is what my family calls our land/old Christmas tree farm outside of Ruston). It was disgusting. We would let him out, he would come in and eat his food, and then vomit "poop food" everywhere. This was not ok since I was the one cleaning up the mess most of the time. And I mean gross! What is wrong with this dog! So we loaded him up and headed to the vet's office. The remedy for this was to sprinkle a powder on his food that would make the poop taste like, well I am not sure how or what makes poop taste bad, but it worked. Apparently, the poop was no longer a tasty, edible treat after that. I'll never forget too, one morning when we woke up and he must have gotten in something the day before because he had diarrhea all over himself, the kennel and the wall behind him. That was super fun to clean up and to try to not vomit on myself at 8 a.m. His latest incident involved poop up here, and I guess he thought he might give it a taste one more time. Brutus came in, started doing his weird pacing thing, and splat. Poop Vomit all over the living room carpet. Now, I have a pretty strong stomach when it comes to poop but this one almost did it to me. I definitely gagged a couple times. Steam cleaner rented and it was like it never happened, thank the Lawd!

Felix

Felix was the first animal that Andy and I ever had. He was a rescue cat and wooed me with his purring and rubbing all over me. He just could not get enough love. Well, turns out that is strictly on his terms, and if he does not want to be petted, he will swat you. He is a feisty cat but man, I love that guy. I feel like in this picture, you can just see that he is plotting his next move. We did not bring him with us to ND since we are in a townhouse, Andy really did not want to ride with him the eleventy billion miles it is up here, and the street behind us is so busy. He now resides in Tucson with Uncle Bean and Auntie Dessa. I actually think this worked out really well for Felix because he no longer has to deal with any dogs bothering him. Trust me though, he was the king of our house and Brutus knew not to mess with him. Felix would sneak up on Brutus and beat up on him for no reason at all! I think Gene wrestles with him and has put him in his place now, but I know he still gets a lick in on Gene every now and then...good kitty.

When we left Monroe to move to The Hill, we had our last load of stuff including Felix. We put him in Brutus's kennel and it was only a thirty minute drive so I figured we could tolerate his whining. Well, THE ENTIRE WAY, he was howling at us. I say howling because the sounds that were coming out of him were from the gut. I thought Andy was going to chunk him in the kennel on the side of I20. He started doing all this weird scratching and clawing and really trying to get out of the kennel. I kept telling him, "Just a few more minutes buddy!". Few more minutes my ass. We were literally on the off ramp to head to the Hill when I look back and he is in the "bathroom position". Yep. Took a shit in the kennel. Now dog poop is one thing. Cat poop has a completely different aroma. EWWWWWW. We had the windows down and had our heads hanging out gagging, trying to make it the rest of the way. Felix then laid (opposite the side of his waste product) contentedly in the kennel with a very smirk look on his face. It was if he was saying to us "See, I told you I was uncomfortable. Look what you made me do." I have more stories that involve him and Brutus, but we'll get to those another day.

Andy

Most of our family and close friends know that Andy DOES NOT DO POOP.  Andy is notorious for stopping up toilets. I know this because I am usually the one that finds it. He has also had to plunge many toilets at various homes over the years. He says, "I like a clean butt!". That means that he uses a half a roll of TP every time he pottys (which I think is ridiculous). Our saving grace for him has been adult flushable wipes and trying to train him to "Double Flush".

There is a golf tournament in Ruston that we went to a couple times with our friends, Rob and Megan. Lots of fun and lots of cocktails! The second summer I was with child but it was just as much fun and of course, the guys had a great time, even if their game was not the best. While the boys played, Megan and I lounged by the pool at the hotel and just hung out. I really don't remember why, but we ended up eating at Rabb's that Saturday night after it was over, which involved a lot of fried food and steak. Andy was well inebriated, and I think we called it a night relatively early due to the boy's sunburns and what not. When pregnant, it's also just not as much fun to deal with a hungover husband. So, we went back to our room and Andy headed to the bathroom to take care of business.

Here we go: He stops up the toilet. So, he gets a plunger and starts the process...that didn't go so well. He then proceeds to vomit in the sink. There is no way I am dealing with any of this. I am way to pregnant at this point and the last thing I wanted to do was to add to what was already happening in the bathroom. Just from the smell, I already had that feeling like it was creeping up my esophagus. I called Rob and Megan. Rob is a nurse so I figured he could help with this, since he deals with gross things on a daily basis. Nope. I think he must have been already out because here comes poor Megan to help clean up the mess. I still can't thank her enough to this day, and I don't know how she mananged to do it. Andy owed her big after that night...that is true friendship when you count on someone else to clean up your spouse's mess!

Another account of true friendship happened up here during football season. Lawd, bless my husband. He really is something! We grilled out burgers, and I believe we were also drinking "Country Club Specials" (vodka, sprite, club soda, sweet and sour, and garnish with lime - delish!) Occasionally, I will change LF's diaper while she is standing up. This is something I learned when I worked at Montessori. I have no idea why or what Andy was thinking on this lovely evening of watching football and partaking in libations with our friends. He took LF up to get her ready for bath and apparently thought he should change her diaper while she was standing up. This is an overall terrible idea for Andy, as it took me a while to get used to doing this at the school. Of course, she had a little poop diapee that I guess Andy did not check for first. I hear Andy yelling for me and haul ass up the stairs...I'm like What is it?? What happened?? And then I hear his gag noise that he makes. No pun intended but in my mind I am like, Oh Shit. I get up there and poor LF is just standing by the tub, Andy is holding her diaper up and it's obvious he is about to lose it. I am like, "Get out! I got it!" NOPE. Too late because he got a little poop on his finger. SPLAT! He vomits and literally misses me by a couple inches. Ok, now what you need to know is I DO NOT DO VOMIT. I can handle my own child's but that is pretty much it. So now I am holding the poop diapee, need the wipes, which are of course in the other room, and Andy is projectile vomiting in the bathroom next to my head.

Oh dear. Then I caught the whiff of his stomach contents and am trying to get my shirt over my nose as I feel my gagging coming on. I YELL for Roger. He, at first thought that we were just being loud and goofing around, and then he heard the panic in my voice. I think he made it up the stairs in two leaps. Once Roger assessed what was happening, he said, "Oh my god, that smell! That is terrible!", and I am pretty sure repeated that about 5-20 times. I started barking orders then, the first of which is to get my puking husband out of there and then in between breaths things like "Bring me the wipes!", "Grab the Paper towels and 409!", "Get the Swiffer!!", "Andy, get out of her because your gagging noises are going to make me puke!". God Bless Roger. I don't know what I would have done without him there that day. And thank Jesus he had the stomach to help clean it all up. I mean, Andy even managed to get puke down the floor vent. Just from a little poop on the finger. The whole time too, poor little Lila Faye was just in the buff with a dirty booty watching everything that was happening. I would have loved to have known what was going through that little mind!

These are just a few of the many gross stories that have happened to us over the past years and would love to hear some of yours! I hope you enjoyed and Happy Friday!