(One of my favorite movie quotes)
This post will be gross. But before it gets gross (you can read the first part KNH), some of you will recall that Nicole and I stash a Support Our Troops yellow ribbon magnet on each other’s cars to embarrass the other in front of other drivers (we find the magnets silly). My latest application was to her mailbox, which she kept forgetting to remove since she only saw it when she left the driveway in her car. But her husband took over and redecorated with Ainsley as model:
Now we really can’t put it on each other’s cars because, well, someone might think we were calling the troops poopieheads and involve us in a road rage incident, and I’ve had enough of that this week. (BTW, David uses that term a lot, and I just verified that is his preferred spelling.) (I love the word antecedent and I hope everyone understood mine in that last note.)
Shortly after the appearance of Support Our Poops, David and I had an argument about poop, and we have relatively frequent discussions about poop, and then I saw a funny and informative blog post about poop. Plus, I am CONSTANTLY talking about rabbit poop with other bunny folks because it’s an incredibly useful way to assess their health. So naturally, it became a blog topic. (Those easily grossed out should go away now. It’s not that bad, and I won’t post any photos from my bathroom or anything, but I know some folks really hate bodily excretion discussions.)
David describes his bathroom activities to me in relative detail, and I know all about his elaborate preparations with coffee and his after-pooping habits (which I will not go into here, but there are products involved). I generally do not share my pooping details (nor do I fart purposely and musically in his presence, which seems to be exclusively a guy thing), but I do have a sympathetic ear on the occasions when I am not feeling well and my bathroom habits have been a little off.
Also, yesterday David sang Poop-a-Jacques to the tune of Frère Jacques. He gets really excited about pooping, I’m telling you.
I never had a toilet bowl problem at my old house, but now seem to at David’s. My theory is that all my toilets at my house are round bowls, and therefore the water is deeper and closer to the front of the bowl. David’s toilet, which he chose when he gutted the bathroom and did not ask my opinion on toilet shape, which is definitely a preference for round bowls, is oval, and so more exposed bowl is at the front, and the water is toward the back. So now when I have my perfect vegetarian poop each day (more on vegetarian poop and what makes it perfect below), it sometimes hits drier areas of the oval bowl. Most times it does not, but the point here is that David insists I scrub the toilet bowl of any evidence immediately following dropping the kids (usually just kid in my case) off at the pool. This is to be done with a toilet brush that sits in a stainless steel thingie next to the commode.
This request totally grossed me out. First of all, the guy doesn’t own toilet cleaner. He just keeps scrubbing until visually clean and that’s it. So I know the toilet brush is disgusting, even though it doesn’t appear that way and even though every toilet brush is disgusting. It’s just that the ones that did their scrubbing in Sno-Bol or Soft Scrub or Lysol Gel or what have you seem less gross upon re-use.
Secondly, if you let the offending smear (ok, that was kinda gross) sit for, say, ten minutes, the next flush will take away the evidence. It’s like soaking a dish in the sink before putting it in the dishwasher. But he didn’t want to see my evidence (and I guess I can understand that), while I would rather wait ten minutes and try the hands-off approach. Meanwhile, if his toilet bowl were rounder, all my perfect number fours would hit deeply and I doubt I’d ever have to scrub.
Perfect number four poop
I really can’t do this discussion justice after the previously-mentioned excellent post at A Veg*n for Dinner, but I would like to use the Bristol Poo Chart, which I didn’t know existed until she introduced it:
The idea is that a vegetarian diet, full of fiber and veggies and lacking constipating meat, generally results in perfect number four poops, and such poops should be the goal. Apparently we can tell a lot about a person’s health by looking at their poop, in the same way I assess rabbits, but the main difference is that a rabbit creates something like 300 pellets (or “data points”) a day and I generally produce one or two. It’s much faster to jump to statistically significant conclusions with rabbit poop (or fecal pellets, not to be confused with cecotropes, and frankly I can go on all day about rabbit poop. Should you want to know more, check out Rabbit References).
My latest news from the bathroom is that while I was pooping last night, a tornado came through town, and I had to rush downstairs with the animals. This led to another argument about the toilet needing scrubbing but I figured a tornado was a pretty good excuse.
And then Casper went outside and ate some poopsicles.