Pooping: You’re doing it wrong.
What if someone told you there was a simple device that would solve every poo problem you’ve ever had? Constipation, hemorrhoids, UTIs, appendicitis, chilly cheeks (that is so a real problem) – all solved! You’d want to try it like rightthisverysecond, right? Which is how I found myself in the bathroom this morning with my knees elevated to eye level as I hovered my hiney precipitously over the bowl. As I hung out there – literally and figuratively – I contemplated all that had led to this very exciting moment in poo history.
Like all things popular in health right now, it started back in the Stone Age. Since there were no primitive porta-potties, mankind had to figure out how to squat outdoors in such a way as to relieve the pressure and yet not get one’s shoes all wet. And shoes weren’t even invented yet! All through the ages since then, people have been squatting over a hole, pot or generously sized coconut shell to do their business. Despite the many advances in health care, this method of baking butt brownies stayed basically the same for centuries. That is until the advent of the porcelain throne in 1776 (an auspicious year!), although it didn’t become widely popular until the late 1800’s.
Cartoon from the perpetually awesome Natalie Dee
Constipation: Lots of people have it. No one talks about it. Yet everyone needs to poop. Indeed, I daresay that a decent dookie is one of life’s great pleasures – one everyone deserves to have, er, regularly.
Spending half my life in bathrooms, as I do now that Jelly Bean is officially in that potty trained phase known as “Her highness’ bowel whims rule all”, I’ve had a lot of time to contemplate the nature of number two. Especially since now that I’ve stopped giving her a candy every time she goes off like a leaky sprinkler, she’s decided to stop pooping until I bring back her M&Ms. (Note: Has anyone ever contemplated the weirdness of giving a small chocolate candy to a child who has just pooped something the size and shape of a brown M&M? Just me?) I swear to you she’s constipating herself in the name of sugar and power struggles. And in toddler world constipation translates to lots of extra laundry. My life stinks right now. Literally. (And that’s not even counting all the times I’ve had to fish a brown barge out of the bathtub. With my bare hand.)