09 Apr Poo. Let’s Discuss.
Now I know that for a lady, this is not a fitting subject matter.
It is a topic more commonly discussed when we get around other women and drink some alcohol.
The reason being – it’s a part of life that is hilarious, gross and not for general discussion.
The thing is, the way we handle such situations speaks volumes about us as people.
I’ve been thinking about this recently because Niamh told me that they are not allowed to say the word at school so this has now crossed over to home and she will sometimes spell out in a whisper that she needs a P-O-O.
Bizaarly this has become a dirty word at school.
Now I can understand if it is being used in class just to be gross, which believe me, I know how much the school kids love to talk about yakky things, but won’t a complete ban on the word put a validation on the belief that some children have that this is not something to be done anywhere but home?
I was one of those kids – yes I know, this probably comes as no surprise with my catalogue of issues – you can find this under P for P-O-O retention.
11 years in school and not one time did I do a number two.
I was a big fan of the homely pot.
Also, my Mum had a weird aversion to public toilets, creating a quilted seat of toilet roll before we could pee in McDonalds or telling us to hover like we would catch bum rot if we dared to sit down.
I am far less of a germaphobe with my own kids although Niamh needs no help in that department.
She has already been through the religious handwashing phase that dried her hands out to scales so making it even more unacceptable will have a negative effect on kids like her.
Fast forward to my university days and I was living in a shared flat with Jayne.
To this day we still laugh about how I could only go to the toilet with the tap running loudly.
Then to my working years where for the first few I battled through days, really uncomfortably, to make it home to relieve myself afterwards….
Then I discovered wine. Mmmmmm wine.
I would over indulge on a school night at times and make it into Manchester by the skin of my teeth and by this point I didn’t care where I was.
It was a case of poo or die.
Inhibitions are a funny thing.
When you start to relax them, you wonder why you ever had them in the first place.
It was a joy to work a full day not distracted by the inner workings of my bowels.
Then I had a set back.
I started dating Neil.
He was living at home with his Mum.
Now we all know that as dizzy and wonderful the new relationship feels are, we are back to bloody square one with our poo situation.
We don’t want them to think we poo!!!!!
They aren’t mentally prepared to picture us sat on the throne, doing the crossword!
Luckily for me, there is a Wetherspoons right at the end of the road so I averted this issue by taking many a trip to the ‘shop’.
The thing is, at this point in time, smoking was still allowed in there so I must have come back smelling like the pub but I was happy to let him think I was nipping for sly drinks & a closet alcoholic – god forbid he figure out I was human.
One night I decided to bite the bullet. I was pregnant with Niamh and I figured that soon enough, when he sees me squeeze one out on the delivery table, he will realise that I am indeed human and not fembot.
I was sat there thinking, this isn’t so bad. Ok, no lock on the door – he could burst in at any time.
I turned down the tap a little so I could listen for footsteps.
Flush you bastard! Flush!!!!!
I broke out into the worst sweat and spent another twenty minutes getting the toilet to flush.
God was having a little lol with me that day.
He made sure I was completely over my aversion too by giving me a full on bout of sudden dysentry walking back to the car from a Take That concert 7 years ago.
Let’s just say it changed my relationship with Mum forever and my Polo couldn’t live with the shame so I had to get rid of it.
I couldn’t get rid of mum sadly and she loves to tell this story. To everyone.
My shame went in the bin with my outfit that night.
So I conclude people that whilst it is still not really a thing to talk about over dinner, it is better to teach our children that there is no shame in the necessary processes of our bodies.
All too soon they will be holding in farts in front of boyfriends and hiding tampons in the lining of their school bags.
Laugh about it while you still can.