That was my first encounter of living under the Rules of Planet Poo.
My life now is governed by poo. This is how my day went yesterday:
- The Tomboy woke up in the night because she needed a poo.
- The Tweenager did a huge poo when he got up.
- The Dog decided to poo twice right in the middle of the village playing field.
- I took The Toddler's nappy off for his bath and he poo'd all over the kitchen floor.
- I discovered that The Dog has been pooing in the corner of the garden over the past week.
I do not like toilet humour and I'm not a fan of people who talk about potty training and toilet habits. But I felt like I needed to mention poo because clearly I am living on Planet Poo.
I think it's really interesting that I can be talking about Jackson Pollack one minute and smelling poop the next. That's how complicated my life is getting. But come to think of it, my children do have the ability to poo in Jackson Pollack type patterns.
I'm well aware that this blog is an effective form of birth control. And I think it's a particular low point when I talk about poo. Don't get me wrong, it's wonderful when a child says "I love you" but that backfires when they do a particularly smelly poo right when you're taking a shower.
Oh I've just remembered when I was fighting the Battle Of Potty Training with my fellow first time mums. There was a particular mum who was bragging that her daughter was fully trained and had been wearing pants for weeks (at aged 18 months). Right on cue, her daughter did a massive poo which came out of her pants and thudded on the ground. Hilarious!
Anyway, I promise I won't mention poo again. Except maybe Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo. And Winnie The Pooh.