The Poop That Got Away, A Children’s Story

This morning, our youngest made a poop.  This is significant for reasons you do not want me to detail here.  Suffice it to say, POOP!

The three of us — Mama, Daddy, and boy — were standing over the toilet as it was flushed.  “Bye bye, poop!,” I exclaimed, except, oops, that poop was going nowhere.  Being a stubborn one, it stuck around.  My boy flushed again and that one did the trick.

Daddy and I were smiling and walking away when my boy looked up at me, his face twisted in sadness, his tears flowing as freely as the water in the bowl.  “I want my poop back!  Make it come back!  I want it back!”  Oh my. He was serious.  My boy was bereft that his poop had been flushed. Legitimately sad.

I took him to the next room because, well, poop smells, and sat him on my lap.  “Sweetie, when we flush the toilet, the poop goes away.,” I told him. “We want it to go away.  We can’t live in a house where we keep the poop.  No one would want to live in that house.”  My words were poor solace to a boy grieving his poop.  “Bring it back!  I miss my poop!  I want to see it again!”

Hmmmm.  This one was a new one on me.  I vaguely remembered reading an article somewhere, years ago, about kids who miss their poop.  What did it say?  What?  Did?  It?  Say?  Hell if I know.  I suppose I could Google it, but really, the need was immediate, so I had to act fast.

In the time honored traditions of motherhood, I made up a story.  I seriously think this could be a kid’s book.  No, really.

The Poop That Got Away

Mr. Poop jumped into the toilet.  He was so happy to splash in the water.  “Whee!,” he shouted, “This is fun!”  Already having the time of his life, Mr. Poop started spinning and spinning and spinning.  “WHOOAAAAAaaaaaahhhh!”  And, just like that, he was gone.

The boy who had made Mr. Poop cried and cried and cried.  He missed his poop.  He was sad.  Where had his poop gone?  Why wouldn’t it come back?  His Mama held him and told him all about poop and toilets and sewers.  The boy thought all of that was nonsense.  He simply missed his poop.

Mama wondered what the boy would do if the poop stayed.  “Would you play with it?,” she asked.  “Put it in your pocket?  Give it a name?  Place it on your pillow to keep you company while you slept?”  She gagged a little as she asked these questions, thinking they were rhetorical.  She was wrong.

Drawing courtesy of Daddy.
Drawing courtesy of Daddy.

“I would name him Mr. Poop and he would be my friend and we would go everywhere together and he would keep me company at school and the park and in my bath and the grocery store and we would be very, very happy together!”

Oh my.

The boy was having none of her logical arguments.  Mama needed to up her poop game.

“But, Sweetie, poop would not be very happy with that kind of life.  Poops like to play in the water and be with other poops.  That is where Mr. Poop went — to be with his friends.  He is having a blast at the poop water park.  You’ve never seen anything like it, and you never will, because boys and moms are not welcome there.  The poop water park is only for poops.  They like it better that way.”

“Tell me more,” said the boy.  He liked this story.

“Well, it’s a magical place, full of poop.  Big poops and little poops.  Mama poops and baby poops and daddy poops.  Even big brother poops.  The poops love to play together, splashing around, floating all over.  There are snacks and foam noodles to play with and diving boards.  It’s a little stinky, but the poops don’t mind.  They like it that way.”

“Tell me more,” said the boy.

And that’s just what Mama did.  She told the story of the poop water park and how it is where all the poops go to be together.  She told her boy about how poops get lonely and they really love company.  At the poop water park, there was room enough for every poop. The more the stinkier!

When she finished her story, Mama got serious and looked at her boy.  “You know, Mr. Poop needs you.  Our poops rely on us to keep sending them friends.  They get lonely very easily and always love to welcome new friends.  It is the best part of their day when a new poop gets flushed into the water park.  All the poops celebrate the new arrival.  Do you think you could make Mr. Poop a friend and send him along tomorrow?”

“Yes,” the boy said, equally serious, “I can.”

And he did.  And so did Mama.

The End.

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