Get ready for a week-long dedication to baby blow out stories here on He Shat, She Shat! As parents, we recognize how much fecal matter becomes a part of your life. We will share with you our stories and hope you will share yours in the comments section:
It was a lovely trip to the zoo with my 9 month old. I love this age because they are old enough to really get the excitement of things and are no longer floppy and boring. Given this recent musculature development in my child I was able to do things I could never do before like carry him in one arm while he was upright, extend him over the younger elementary school children so he could see the Polar Bears, and of course, to ride him on my shoulders.
The ironic thing is that when it happened I was actually ducking for cover as a flock of geese had let loose a bombardment of excrement my way. As it was a warm summers day and my propensity to sweat were both in full force I didn’t think anything of it for a few moments. You would have thought that the smell would have triggered my brain but as many of you may know breastfed babies poo really does not smell at all.
It wasn’t until I felt it running down my collarbone and belly that I realized something was wrong. The blowout was occuring upon my neck and, being a concerned father, I had baby squished right against me as to prevent any possible falling. The waterfall of yellow seed blowout diarrhea poo was upon me, covering my entire torso and neck.
Aside from the misery of the lengthy trip home, wiping myself off with diaper wipes in a public place, and the knowledge that I was a terrible replacement for a diaper at least I can take solace in the fact that I wasn’t the only thing that was shat upon that trip. Wifey got a hairful of goose!
It’s been a while, but back in my previous employment I had to give a lot of presentations in front of a lot of people. Not just people. Important people. People who with the flick of a finger could have me beheaded in the form of having me canned. People who had done it before and would do it again if anything displeased them or if their temperament was off. In addition to the few people who could destroy my career, there were usually an additional 20-100 people present to up the notch on the fear-o-meter.
When faced with this type of presentation, my routine was as such:
sleep like crap
Wake up ridiculously early in order to stop the fretting pointlessly in the dark
Avoid breakfast, and possibly vomit acid all morning
Get to presentation
Urinate and diarrhea again
10 minutes later, urinate and diarrhea again
Urinate and possibly one more episode of diarrhea
What is the deal with my body ejecting every form of liquid and waste from any orifice it can find when I am stressed? I haven’t even pointed out the sweat. Where does my body find all this liquid and why does it choose the most inconvenient moment possible to get rid of it?
Having a baby is no joke, no joke at all. It literally is the ultimate game changer in the course of human life. College, employment, puberty…nothing will alter the course of your life and daily activities like having children. This is not said in any negative tone, rather it is merely factual. One of the greatest examples of how it changes you is the level of which you are willing to smell, clean, and touch fecal matter.
It is no secret that babies poop, and poop a lot. They poop with such frequency and vigor that it truly can blow your mind. It always amazes me the quantity of crap something so small can produce with such minimal intake. But they DO! Babies are miracle workers! But with that miracle comes one of the greatest game changers of them all…the Blow Out (Brown Out).
Scenario A: we were visiting a high-end fashion store – just for kicks and giggles. No real intent to purchase, just a natural curiosity as we trolled the mall one afternoon. As my wife examined some jewelry that was way out of our price range, my parenting bell went off in my head. Something wasn’t right. I looked down to examine our son, only to observe SH*T dripping down my arm, leg and all over the designer carpet in the store. Not only that, but I found clumps of it in different areas of the store as apparently the act had occurred near the bracelets.
Like any white trash parent, we charged towards the bathroom and I stripped down to nudity and washed my and my sons clothes in the sink. My wife and I stayed in there as long as we could…trying to determine how to save any dignity we had left. We decided to screw it and run for it. We ran out the bathroom, son in diaper and me soaking wet and screamed our apologies as we charged out the store. We had just enough time to observe the manager on hands and knees scrubbing crap out of the fibers beneath him.
So if you are going to have kids, I recommend you prepare to get your hands dirty!
If I was professor of Poopology 101 at Shat University this forthcoming post would be a core lecture topic. You see I find the distinction between pooping acid and an acidic poop to be rather obvious but through discussions with friends and family I have realized there is a lack of knowledge in society surrounding this important topic. You think they are the same thing? Oh how naive of you! Allow me to share the cliff notes.
Pooping Acid: You have polished off a nice and tasty Thai dish and overestimated your tolerance for hot a bit. Nonetheless you are confidence that your insides can handle everything nicely. However, after a couple of hours your insides are Dancing Like the Stars. You feel the poo log that had previously existed in your bowels being liquified by the your churning intestines. Soon the big moment comes and you explode liquid poo acid out of your anus. The burn is intense but you are able to explode the liquid volume from you in an efficient and quick manner. A quick extinguishing wipe knocks down the fire and soon you have recovered.
Acid Poop: You’ve just eaten a spicy Mexican dish full of raging peppers and you nearly had to quench the mouth fire with ketchup and mustard ala Dumb and Dumber. You are pleased with your dinner but are concerned about the after effects. You see, the pepper and seeds are not just a spice but actually have some substance to them. You shudder at the thought of solid pepper chunks and seeds being directly incorporated into a compacted poo log. The big moment comes. Fear envelopes your entire body as you realize the truth. As you push, the solid acid poo smolders through your anus like a bubbling molten lava flow. As your anus is stretched to give birth to this acidic log from hell, the poo squashes into every crack and crevice, chewing away the top layer of tissue with ease. You wipe and wipe but the burning does not go away. It is not until your body can actually re-grow the burnt nerve endings that your pain is finally over.
And you thought there was no difference?! Enjoy this knowledge and share with a friend!
Medicine is an inexact science. So inexact, in fact, that doctors have sort of a complex about it. We look at those mathematicians and physicists, with their equations, and their real solutions to things, and we get jealous. So we have to assign numbers to every disease. It happens in every specialty, from gastrointestinology (5 types of bile duct cysts!) to rheumatology to pediatric cardiology. It’s probably the worst in orthopedics though. Seriously, they have to number every freaking type of fracture every which way. Sometimes it makes sense, most the time it’s some dude who wants his name on a research paper. Pretty much every disease, there either is a numerical scale/categorization system or someone is thinking one up, right now.
It should thus come as no surprise to you that there is a numbering system for poo.
I’m sure you can identify with the mindset required (and if not, why are you here?) to sit on a toilet and, pondering the diversity of your dooks, wonder about where they fall in the natural order of the universe. Isn’t there some cosmic scale that can quantify what has only hitherto been qualified?
Yes. Yes there is.
What was previously difficult to categorize and describe in your quest to attain mutual understanding with your friends and family is now as simple as assigning a number. Explaining your scat to doctors was the original purpose of the scale, as this guy tells us: