Growing up I thought everybody wiped the same way. We all walk the same, dress similar, and follow more or less the same rules. I assumed everybody wiped the way I did.
Well I was wrong. I have since learned that wiping is anything BUT standardized and deserves further discussion. As an introduction allow me to discuss the most common wipes:
1. One cheek sneak: you shat upon your toilet but are too lazy to stand up. You one cheek sneak it due to your supernaturally long arms and/or tiny butt cheeks that allow easy access to the anus. This technique is super useful in airplane bathrooms where your knees are already jammed against the door and you are afraid any movement might cause the $0.23 cent piece of plastic keeping your uncomfortably exposed nakedness and streaked anus from the entire cabin.
2. The reach around: usually completed while standing. Very similar to the one cheek sneak except that the individual is standing and may require a slight C shape bend forward to expose the anus appropriately. Again, if butt cheeks are flacid or super long arms you may be able to do this while completely erect which would be AWESOME.
3. Obstacle Course: Also known as the reach through. You are in a semi-squat. With the chosen arm you reach through your legs, around the twig and berries and into the anus for a good cleaning. This requires significant coordination and is inverse wiping from steps 1 and 2 (ie, back to front versus front to back). Advantages include exercise while wiping as you complete the deep knee bends.
We’ll have some more discussion in the future but in the meantime, no matter which type of method you utilize, make sure you master it well. If not your own defecation may come back to haunt you as a super nasty skid mark or poo-induced butt rot.
Happy wiping everyone – Papa Squat
I’m middle eastern, y’all. Though I’m American born and raised, there are still cultural aspects of my life that most mainstream white folk will never understand. Like the way middle easterners wipe their butts.
I guess wiping isn’t the best description, as it’s more of a washing of the butt via the “aftabeh.” This is essentially a pitcher filled with water left near the toilet. We use it after pooping. Our butts get super clean. The best feature of the aftabeh is that it eliminates dingleberries–no left over toilet paper in the crack to worry about.
This got me thinking of different cultures and various ways people clean excrement off their bottoms. We know of the bidet–tre European and quite effective. What butt doesn’t like it’s very own personalized shower?
In America, we stick with toilet paper. I’m a big fan of 2 ply–I need to cushy stuff. Yet if I’m being totally honest, someone who poops several times a day like me needs more back up than just regular TP. Full disclosure: my butt will often stink after several poops assisted by toilet paper wipes. So I’ve had to make the full switchover to baby wipes. It’s the only thing that keeps my behind from stinking. Bad for the earth, I know. But it’s essential for the health of my social life and sanity.
I’d love to compile a more exhaustive list of wiping culture. So I commission you: fellow bloggers, how do you wipe your butts? Don’t be shy, this is in the name of fecal anthropology. Thank you.
I am not doctor, so in many ways I wish Dr. Colonic was writing this post, but I have a medical concern and I need to determine whether this is normal or just me. First, to set the matter straight, I am a looker. This means that when I wipe my butt after a solid doogan, I check out the toilet paper to see how much poo is up on there. I like to determine whether I have cleaned sufficiently or not and I also enjoy the other information I get from the visual: color, consistency, chunkiness, quantity, etc. Well, nearly every time I wipe I notice there is a small little dab of blood on the toilet paper. This issue goes way back to 2005 when I had diarrhea extremely bad. The non-stop wiping and rawness and acid eventually caused my anus to have a little cut, or tear, or something. That cut bled just a tiny bit…and has not stopped since then.
Now don’t get carried away and think that I’m gushing blood into my adult diapers each day. It’s just a single, little dot that only shows up on toilet paper. Here is what my imagination has come up with: the cut can’t heal. I live in humid environments and its an area that is almost always slightly moist…so how could it heal? It’s not like I can stop taking craps and stop wiping for a week to let it heal properly So the problem just perpetuates day after day after day.
I’m thinking about getting a maxi pad and lacing it with hydrocortisone cream or something to see if that can help the situation. If you have or have had an anal cut like mine, I implore your wisdom!
I am currently sitting on the pot, evacuating my bowels for the 15th time today. What the crap is wrong with me? It feels like a serious case of diarrhea, but my stools are as firm as a good handshake. But that’s not relevant. What is relevant is that my butt hole is rubbed raw from all the wipage it has endured today and every time I release a fresh load it feels like a thousand fiery darts are being launched directly into my anus. As I sit and ponder my unfortunate situation, I can’t help but yearn for the days of yesteryear. You see, there was a period in my life when I wasn’t plagued by the troubles of over-wiped a-hole. When poo finger was eliminated and butt rot was virtually nonexistent. It was a much simpler time when I could sit and enjoy a good duke without the apprehensive anticipation of a painful undercarriage clean up. This bowel movement bliss was made possible through my introduction to the toilet’s under appreciated European cousin, the bidet.
A few years ago I spent some time in a foreign country. I soon discovered that every bathroom had a strange fixture next to the toilet. Upon learning the purpose of this apparatus and the general method of usage, I was disgusted with it and mocked all who used it. But I would soon learn the error of my ways. After about 6 months of continued TP usage, I sat down on the pot one day to drop the kids off at the pool, finished my business, and noticed the empty roll on the holder. As there were no extra rolls under the sink, I had 2 options. I could use my roommate’s towel to clean the red-eye or I could go against everything I believed in and straddle the fountain for midgets.
I chose the bidet. And it changed my life. As the rush of luke-warm water hit my soiled basement, my fears and misconceptions of this God-given contraption washed away, just like the poo particles from my anus being washed down the drain. For the next year, I didn’t lay hands on a single piece of toilet paper and I never felt more fresh and vibrant in my life. Instead of smearing poo across my bottom until the TP in hand looked mostly free of brown streaks, I would give my anus and surrounding areas a personal shower each time I went #2. No more painful wipes. No more chafed nut rub. Life was good.
When I returned home, my reintroduction to bidet-free American bathrooms was a sad and unpleasant one. The toilet paper on my soft, tender backside felt like sandpaper. It just felt so unnatural and environmentally unfriendly. But I slowly callused up and eventually assimilated back into this toilet paper society we call America.
But it’s days like today that I long for the warm fountain of goodness that made me feel so clean, confident and carefree.
Come on, it has happened to everyone! There is no doubt that you have experienced the stink finger. We have all had that joy of cleaning up the red lion only to break through our two-ply barrier and soil ourselves. However, I refrain from discussing the particulars of this event and instead will focus on the aftermath of this special occasion.
The way I see it there are four major categories of response:
The Freak-Out: You go insane that your finger is soiled. You immediately get up from toilet with pants around ankles and waddle to the sink for a good cleansing. You don’t care that your naked backside is hanging out and possible fecal matter is dropping onto your clothing and tile floor. You must have the finger clean and nothing else matters!
Mr. Logical: You realize that it happens. You still have business to attend to and recognize that you now have a second cleaning job but you may as well take care of job one first. Anything else would be inefficient and illogical. X then Y then Z. You are cool and calm in the face of the stink finger because you have a plan and you will execute it well.
Ambidextrous: You are talented with both hands. If one can’t finish the job you simply utilize the other.
The Non-Believer: You felt the finger frosting AND you can see it there upon your digit. But you need a third sense to triangulate your thinking. You subsequently pass finger near nose in an effort to confirm that your finger is poo-laden. Ahhhh, the smell of confirmation. Now that you have verified your findings you can move forward and take care of business but not before catching a whiff every time. If it happens again on the next wipe do you smell again? Absolutely! Each wipe is mutually exclusive and requires its own verification.
So how do you handle the foul finger?