Ho Ho Ho, You Gotta Go?

My family has always accused me of taking every conversation to the toilet in a  literal sense:  bowel habits:   gas…constipation. .  diarrhea.  

They offer my blog as proof and I admit there is a skidmark of truth in their assertion.    Several posts seem a little stinky, but I think they’re more clinical. . . educational, if you well.   No joke.  Flatulence amusement is pretty much a guy thing anyway, don’t you think?  Already our two-year-old grandson is trying to perfect the underarm fart trick his brother learned on the school bus and passed along.   

Twice in the past week I have seen evidence that I’m not the only one putting it out there.  The talk, I mean.  For instance, there is SitOrSquat, a website a couple in New York City is setting  up to list toilet facilities in various cities.   A website to tell us where to go. . . to go. 

 But the thing that really excited me was this NYT -recently-reviewed book  which I have added to my Christmas list:  The Big Necessity:  The Unmentionable World of Human Waste and Why It Matters  by Rose George.    (Don’t you love it that someone named Rose wrote the book?!)   I smell an opportunity for me to become an authority on something! 

Perhaps members of my family would like a copy, too;  they’ll see that I’m simply ahead of the curve.   (Watch your Christmas stocking, My Sweets!)   Book discussions are certainly acceptable  topics at the dinner table.  If  the book review is correct, this one provides some really valuable information.  I’m not just talking compost.   

My family has a history.  Don’t want to tell tales out of school here, but take ’em to a library, a fabric shop, or an antique shop at your own peril.  Browsers they are not.  It has happened so often they even have a name for it:  library disease.    Five minutes with  them in either place and they begin walking penguin style.  Then comes the  pained expression, crossed eyes, and the frantic whisper:  “Can we go home?  I’ve got library disease!”    

According to the book review, there is something they can do to squelch the urge–a method of drawing in their palms.  Obviously there is  a science to this, and the method differs according to which hand one uses.  Those specifics alone are worth the price of the book.   Think of the social applications here. . . no more runners’ trot for athletes, no more missing a crucial movie scene,  and no more wild eyed panic at the line outside the ladies’ room.  Just grit your teeth and draw until it’s your turn.

Do you suppose, if one needs to press  in one particular direction to prevent the  inconvenient poop, that constipation might be relieved by drawing in the other direction?    Baby mamas could try the technique when potty training. 

The timing for the book publication is perfect.  I predict it’ll be a best seller.  The old remedy for preventing diarrhea , according to my mother-in-law, was Archdale coconut macaroons.   Sadly, that company is shutting down operation, causing  rising panic among certain segments of the population.    Hmm. . . a copy for MIL could make her the hit of the dining room in her retirement facility.   

How many copies is that so far?  I may need to buy this in bulk.

Holy crap!   Santa needs to know about this.


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