Home > Parenting, Personal Stories > Family Arguments Are The Sh*ts

Family Arguments Are The Sh*ts

And now, a story from my youth.

As a teenager, my father and I would often butt heads. He could be a real turd of a human being at times. So, I found ways here and there to seek revenge; ways that he’d never be the wiser to.

One afternoon, I came home, only to discover I was completely locked out of the house–everyone was at school or work. I had the sudden and overwhelming urge to poop. As soon as I felt it, I began to prairie dog. So, I quickly ran to the backyard, dropped my drawers and dumped on the lawn. It was a rather large poop. Quite disgusting.

Any decent human being would have picked up after herself and inserted the matter into the garbage. But not me. Earlier that day I had gotten in an argument with my dad, so I decided to leave it there. He would never know the difference between that poop and our dog’s poop. My dad was the assigned person to clean up the poop in the yard. It brought me satisfaction knowing he’d be handling mine. Bad girl!

I’ve held this secret in for over a decade now. It’s true catharsis to share my story with you all now. You’ll be happy to know that my dad and I have a fantastic relationship today. I would never dream of pooping in his yard these days. We really do love each other.

While I feel shame in confessing such an inhumane form of teen rebellion, at least I can say I wasn’t boozing and whoring around and I’m pretty sure Dad would rather me poop in inappropriate places rather than pick up unnecessary venereal diseases. Right, Dad? Right?

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