While walking along a row of cute little shops on Bainbridge Island as part of our Thanksgiving Adventures with Oliver and Kristin, my eyes were drawn to a sign that had been suction-cupped to a store window:
"Poo sold here!"
Um, yay. Because I certainly don't deal with enough poo already. I mean, in the last month I've only dealt with poop all over two of my bathrooms (courtesy of a visiting child who didn't quite make it to either potty on time), a week's worth of severe diarrhea on Matthew's part that resulted in many a sanitize cycle in the washing machine and an overdose of clorox on my bathroom floor, and a poop that made it outside the bathtub only because I recognized the telltale signs of imminent catastrophe and yanked Leah out of her sibling-accompanied bath just in time for her to take care of business on the floor. I'm sure I don't need to mention the dozens of diaper changes I handle on a weekly basis.
So really, what could be better as a mother than, at the end of a long, poop-filled day, to sit down and write on paper that is made out of animal dung? I know I feel relaxed just thinking about it.
Yes, for the naturalists among us, you can now S.W.A.K your letters with an extra flourish, because nothing says "I love you" like taking your heartfelt words from pen to Poo Poo Paper. Plus, you get the added benefit of feeling environmentally responsible. I mean, who wants to hug a tree when there's a poop option available instead?
Ugh. This violates nearly half of my Rules of Modern Living, first and foremost of which is "Never deal with poop when you don't have to." This rule is also why I'm vehemently opposed to any diaper which requires me to swish it in a toilet and wash it on my own or to carry it around in my diaper bag all day until I can reach said toilet. Fill up the landfills, I say. Just get the stinky things away from me.
Oh, I know, I know. Poo Poo Paper doesn't actually stink.
That's because the idea of it stinks enough on its own.
"Poo sold here!"
Um, yay. Because I certainly don't deal with enough poo already. I mean, in the last month I've only dealt with poop all over two of my bathrooms (courtesy of a visiting child who didn't quite make it to either potty on time), a week's worth of severe diarrhea on Matthew's part that resulted in many a sanitize cycle in the washing machine and an overdose of clorox on my bathroom floor, and a poop that made it outside the bathtub only because I recognized the telltale signs of imminent catastrophe and yanked Leah out of her sibling-accompanied bath just in time for her to take care of business on the floor. I'm sure I don't need to mention the dozens of diaper changes I handle on a weekly basis.
So really, what could be better as a mother than, at the end of a long, poop-filled day, to sit down and write on paper that is made out of animal dung? I know I feel relaxed just thinking about it.
Yes, for the naturalists among us, you can now S.W.A.K your letters with an extra flourish, because nothing says "I love you" like taking your heartfelt words from pen to Poo Poo Paper. Plus, you get the added benefit of feeling environmentally responsible. I mean, who wants to hug a tree when there's a poop option available instead?
Ugh. This violates nearly half of my Rules of Modern Living, first and foremost of which is "Never deal with poop when you don't have to." This rule is also why I'm vehemently opposed to any diaper which requires me to swish it in a toilet and wash it on my own or to carry it around in my diaper bag all day until I can reach said toilet. Fill up the landfills, I say. Just get the stinky things away from me.
Oh, I know, I know. Poo Poo Paper doesn't actually stink.
That's because the idea of it stinks enough on its own.
1 comment:
Words fail me.
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