A Sh*tty Story

This is a shitty story. Literally, it is about poop. Embarrassing poop at that. I have actually said to a few people that I wasn’t going to put this on the blog because its so embarrassing but what the heck?!? Here goes….

So a few weeks ago JHub and his boyfriends (literally, boyfriends, because their bromance is something sick) went on a guy’s weekend to the casino. That Saturday night us girls decided to hang out too. I loaded Q up in the car and headed over to Heather’s house. Tera was there with her girls as well. So, its me and Q, Heather and her 2 girls, and Tera and her 2 girls hanging around Heather’s house.

When we got there, the girls were all just getting to the house too from a girls day taking pictures. The girls had  just gotten some new bath bombs and were eager to see them do their fizzy magic. The little girls headed to the upstairs bathroom and the big girls headed downstairs. Q ran to the playroom and found his favorite toy, the stroller. (I assume it’s his favorite because he literally plays with it every.single.time we are at their house) He loaded up dolls and was taking them on a stroll. He came upstairs and showed the dolls to us. He went downstairs and pushed them around. He came back up and played a little bit more. All the while, the girls are in their respective bathrooms watching bath bombs fizz away in the sink.

A short while later, Q comes up and says “Ms. Heather, don’t be mad at the girls. You can’t be mad. They got blue stuck in the sink.” He was insisting their was a huge issue in the bathroom but we couldn’t get mad. (The sink was just having problems draining, not a huge deal in real life but in a 6 year old’s mind a clogged sink is a huge problem) While Heather was down there investigating the “don’t be mad” situation, she smells  THAT smell. Poop. She assumed one of the dogs had an accident and went on the hunt for the mess. Her nose lead her to a corner of the play room. She moved this Alabama metal bin that had a bunch of plastic play food in it, assuming the poop was behind the bin.

As she lifted the bin, to move it, she realizes the poop is IN the bin. She peeks inside and finds the poop. With a second glance, she realizes it’s HUMAN SH*T. She comes upstairs, and between coughing and gagging tries to tell Tera and I what is going on. Not really sure what to do, we all just kinda looked at each other. Before we could do anything, little miss Madeline comes upstairs carrying the bin like a prized trophy. I didn’t even have to look because the smell told me all I needed to know. I jumped up, grabbed the bin and ran outside. Seriously, you would have thought the bin had fire in it the way I ran outside with it so fast. Once outside, I realized I had no clue what to do with the bin. I am just walking around the driveway, holding a shit bin, and gagging. Eventually, I set it down and went back inside. Heather agreed we could just throw it all away. I took a garbage bag outside, loaded up the stinky bin, and tossed it in the garbage can.

Once I get back in, the game of “who dun it” was going on. All the kids are denying it. Everyone has an alibi. Everyone is pointing to the other kid. All 5 of the kids have straight, not guilty, faces on. Now out of the 5 kids, we had one really good suspect (the only boy, of course), 2 potentials (the two wild card little girls), and 2 that were automatically assumed innocent (the mature past their age big girls). After a few minutes of interrogation and getting no where, we dismissed the kids and carried on with our night.

On the drive home I said “Quin, why did you poop in that bucket?”. I was trying a little reverse psychology on him. Maybe instead of asking him IF he did it, I would just ask him WHY he did it. He crumbled like a week old cracker. “Momma. I needed to go potty. I went upstairs but the little girls were in there. I went to the downstairs potty but the big girls wouldn’t let me in. I went up to tell you I had to go poop but I didn’t want Ms. Heather to embarrass me. (Meaning, he didn’t want Heather to hear him and he be embarrassed) So I just pooped in the garbage can.”

Y’all. I’m dead. How freaking embarrassing! Let me tell my best friend that my child just SH*T in their toy bin. HE was worried about being embarrassed?!? WHAT ABOUT ME, QUIN?!?!?!? Did you not see the plastic apples and chicken legs in that bin? How in the heck did you manage to squat long enough to get that out? And lastly, what about wiping your butt? (Nevermind on that last question, I don’t want to know)

In some ways, this whole situation could be my fault. I’ve let him pee outside more times than I can count. If momma encourages peeing in a place that isn’t a toilet, surely pooping is fine too!?! Maybe he is a true southern guy and when you see an Alabama trash can, your Kentucky fan instincts come out and you just shit in the bin? I mean okay, in his little brain, it made sense. No bathroom available, I’ll go in this thing that resembles a trash can. No harm, no foul.

Of course, I have fessed up that I found the mystery shitter. Thankfully I have some of the most down to earth friends on the face of this planet and literally nothing, not even shit in a toy bin, brings out their judgement. We’ve all gotten some pretty good laughs out of it, actually. Hell, they even invited us over next weekend. Though, I am sure they will make sure to have one bathroom free at all times. Besides, we made up for it. The girl’s birthday party was this past weekend so we replaced their Alabama trash can and plastic play food.

So, there you have it. A shitty story. In fact, I do believe this is the most embarrassing situation Quin has ever gotten me into. What’s the most embarrassing situation your kid has gotten you into?

8/27 9:53am|Edited to add: links to the products in the image since I have had a couple of people ask…apparently everyone wants their own sh*t bin? Alabama Trash Can & Plastic Play Food