This is a conversation that took place over dinner this week.
Addison: There was something weird that happened in the bathroom at school today.
Me: (thinking: oh God, what in the world could this be) Oh really, what was that?
Addison: There was poop on the floor.
Me: Ewwww, gross. I wonder how in the world someone got poop on the floor.
A little bit of silence.
Me: Wait, did you touch the poop?
Addison: silence (I can see it in his face. He’s hiding something)
Me: Did you touch the poop with your hands?
Me: (my tone is getting more and more anxious). Did you touch the poop with your foot?
Me: You stepped on it didn’t you? Addison, what the heck?
A poker face this child does not have. It’s written all over his face that he deliberately stepped in poop. IN POOP.
What the what?! Are you bleeping kidding me? What in the hell would possess an 8 year old to step in poop? For the love of commodes, what is going on here? I’m pretty sure my face had a combined look of disgust, disappointment and horror. His little face had a look of shame. I however, am not ashamed to admit that I used every tactic I could think of that would cause him to feel extreme guilt and shame at such an act. i.e. he more than likely tracked poop, much the same way you would track mud, out of the bathroom, down the hall and into his classroom. Then he brought the poop home and for all we knew there was poop on the living room rug at that very moment. I quizzed him as to why in the world he would step in it. What was going through his mind the moment he stepped in it. Was he thinking “ha, poop! I’m going to step in this and it’s going to be hilarious.” Or was his mind void of any coherent thought at all?
While I was berating him the following commentary went through my mind. Don’t over react don’t over react don’t over react! He offered up unsolicited information about his school day. If you over react he may never tell you anything ever again! Of course, I over reacted.
Later that night as I lay awake in bed hashing this out in my mind, I came up with three possible scenarios as to why there was feces on the boys bathroom floor.
1. Some troublemaker thought it would be hilarious to poop on the floor so he dropped trou right there and laid one down.
2. Above mentioned troublemaker did a reach in and left a little present on the floor for the poor janitor to clean up. Side note: God bless school janitors everywhere for dealing with the crap (no pun intended) that little kids create.
3. Someone was slidin’ into first when they felt a sudden burst, had an emergency and missed the bowl in their haste to get their Batman BVDs down.
This may sound strange but it is the third option that gives me the most trouble. That means someone was sick with a stomach bug and had an accident. That virus may be clinging to the bottom of his shoes, making its way into our house and waiting for the stroke of midnight to wreak havoc.
The next day I had a calm conversation with him about the dangers of stepping in poop. Who knows if I got through to him.
When does this fascination with bottoms and everything that exits from them end? Moms who have older boys tell me it never ends. Boys love potty humor and will always love potty humor. Great.
The moral of the story…when you see poop on the floor, turn around and run the other direction.