Meet the Potty Mouths
At school drop off or while on a voyage to the grocery store, we may look like a picture-perfect, highly Instagram-able, well-kept crew. But hang out at the Potty Mouth House after hours and you’ll become privy to all of our dirty secrets. We fart (aka booty dance) and refuse to let one slip without comment. Every steamy smell is followed by an investigation to determine the executioner and requires feedback on said job. All, including the perpetrator, get a good giggle out of the whole mess, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
When nature comes a callin’ and the poops start a fallin’ (whether in a diaper, the actual toilet or occasionally the back yard (and not always coming from the dog’s poop shooter)), it’s a family affair. Who’s dropping deuces? Where were they when the stink bomb went off? Did lemonade accompany the brownies? How long did it take to get the job done? What was the girth (baby, little sister, mama, dada, or grandpa sized)? Was it a clean wipe? We then proceed to discuss ALL. THE. POOP. THINGS. for the better part of the rest of the day.
And while poop is one of the most entertaining subjects at Casa de Potty Mouth, we have similar conversations about the air leading up to the poop, pee, boogers, snot, slobber and less often, but just as pleasurable, blood/puss. Essentially if something’s coming out, it’s party time!
As y’all cringe at my brutal honesty, secretly judging our family and cursing the fact that this is written anonymously, stripping you the ability to avoid us, here’s why we, The Potty Mouths, yuck-it-up over poop:
At the age of 22 I was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease and while it has created a slew of medical issues and complications along the way, my biggest obstacle has been that American society, for the most part, is not ok with poop. How was I ever going to find a lifelong partner knowing incontinence may very well ensue on my wedding day? 6 years following my diagnosis and many an embarrassing crap fiascos, in sauntered the poop-accepting man of my dreams, ironically enough, to plunge my toilet. Fast forward a few years and boom, here we are, hand in hand, teaching our kids the fine art of the game “Dueling Dutch Ovens.”
Because the thing is, everyone burps, farts, poops, and snots. This is ok. It’s very normal, healthy in fact. When you have a baby, often it’s requested that you stay until you pass gas, indicating internal systems are working. And when you bring your newborn in for that first checkup, the doctor barely asks you how you’re doing before wanting to know how many times a day baby is pooping. Again, a sign of normalcy and function.
To make poop (or any other bodily function) taboo as parents, we may be unintentionally causing our kids to keep things bottled up, in turn causing lifelong issues. Or at the very least initiating excruciating potty-training drama.
And for all of you who want to lash out and tell me it’s one thing to allow for bodily functions to take place, it’s another thing to teach your kids to be crude and disgusting about it, do not worry, my highly intelligent children understand the difference between having fun at home, Potty Mouth style, and appropriate behavior in social and/or scholastic settings. Clearly they excuse themselves after letting one rip…
