Holy shit, I am gonna write about poop.
Forever I have been shush-shush on pooping. My family never talked about it and my friends were girls, so we didn’t poop. (It is very un-ladylike.) Living in the dorm made it worse with community stalls with absolutely no privacy. I went days without pooping until we found the creepy handicapped bathroom with a private door.
I couldn’t even say the word “poop.” I always said crap, and if in the right company, shit. Now I love the word poop. Poop poop poop, so childlike and innocent. Poo is cute too. Feces can be hilarious, if used appropriately.
I was always grossed out when I saw magazines or books placed by the toilet. I couldn’t fathom sitting on the toilet long enough to need something else to do. Also I imagined tiny feces particles could fly in the air and land between the pages and then I’d have a contaminated book. I had a roommate at one time that kept her laptop by the toilet. I found it unsettling to know someone could be looking at my facebook while sitting on the shitter! Someone once had the nerve to tell me to stock up on new magazines because they had read them all; like, I need to go on a special trip to the store to buy bathroom reading. Now, I do realize how important bathroom reading material is. (Geeze, there’s actually an entire book series out there for it.) It can be a distraction and sometimes, it can just be a nice break.
My brother once told me this story how some days he hated work, and would just go to the bathroom and sit there. Pants down and everything. Of course everyone is going to think you’re sick, and not dare bother you. And always the best excuse to get out of work is to say you have the worst case of diarrhea and haven’t left the toilet in what seems forever. You’re super brave to admit that, and your boss would not dare ask for details.
I always thought the “shit stage” in a relationship was such a pivotal point. No longer did you have to run home or hold it in all night, but released yourself whenever you needed to! Getting to this stage meant you were comfortable with your significant other knowing you were human (WHOA) and have to fulfill basic human functions. Once you’ve reached the “shit stage,” you start to think maybe this could be the real thang, true love.
Little babies have a reflex called the ileocolic reflex. When food enters the ileum (the third section of the small intestine), instantly food in the colon is released and they poop. Hopefully you have grown out of this, and do not run to the bathroom every time you eat. Actually, you would need a diaper–a grown-up diaper! I just find it interesting that the act of pooping has evolved from an innate, natural reaction to where some take a laxative to go the bathroom once a week.
I still have some insecurities with pooping. Anyone that poops in a Porta-Potty has a major problem. Don’t poop in a public bathroom unless you really, really gotta go and you can get in and get out. NEVER EVER talk to me about the color, size, consistency or how great you felt after the deed. Now, that’s too much.