This topic was inspired by a facebook status update from someone whose daughter woke her up because her younger brother had been practicing poo art on the wall. You see my mother didn't teach me this lesson because my little cousin beat her to it in my prepubescent years. I suppose that was the first exposure into the joys of parenthood that started me squarely on the path to no kids! Well at the very least, on the path to not getting knocked up until I was ready to handle such artwork from kids. That is the first moment of many moments that started my education on the fact that having kids was not something to take lightly or to rush into.
We were over at my aunt and uncle's house and they have 2 boys several years younger than me. Well one of them wanted me to come back and see his toys. For some reason we went into the other one's bedroom who was "drawing" on the wall with drab brown. All of a sudden the smell reached my nose and I realized that 3-D crayons didn't exist. I put 2 and 2 together and I don't really remember if I held it together or if I ran screaming in horror out to the living yelling "there's poo on the wall!!!" I'm going with if I did keep it together on the outside while delivering the news, I was freaking out running with my arms waving in the air and crying "oh the horror!!!THE HUMANITY!!!! The toilet exploded and shot poo out the door, took a left turn down the hall, then a right turn into his room and splatted on his wall!!!" I certainly thought that no other child had ever done this and there must be something wrong with him!! However the calm demeanor in the living room most likely followed by an explanation taught me otherwise.
All I know is that I didn't have to clean it up. Thank goodness!! But at that moment I didn't ever want to clean it up ever!! But I had no idea what was in store for me down the road. If you are interested in what followed in my poo experience, check out my previous post about exploding poo.
It may seem like poo is a common topic for me to write about, but it has caused me much trauma in my life. And my mother never ever warned me about any of them ahead of time. I supposed she decided it was good for me to learn these lessons through experience. Although I suppose I would have avoided trying and doing a lot of things had she warned me of potential disaster. And it was damn good birth control. Although it's possible my brother never dabbled in poo art, and if he did it was either before I was born or when I was much too young to even say poo. So it may not have even crossed her mind to tell me about this art form. None the less these lessons still haunt me to this day as the images were burned through my eyes into my brain and I don't think they will ever go away!