(by Dave, 3 min)
Pooping is an interesting thing. I saw a commercial the other day for Pampers with a blowout guard. This is a strip of plastic along the top that’s supposed to stop…..well…….blowouts.
Please! Have these designers not witnessed a blowout? Every parent remembers this scenario: The previous poop was just cleaned completely away. On the changing table is an adorable, tidy, but naked bottom.
KABLAM, the poop is loose and unimpeded by anything! Even if you’re quick enough to duck, you are cleaning poop off the walls and ceiling instead of yourself. Regardless, for days little flecks of it are discovered in the most unlikely and embarrassing places because this one stinking time you decided to do the changing on the dining room table with a towel under your child. I don’t know, but it seems to me no flimsy plastic strip is going to withstand this title wave.
Blessedly, with age the smooth muscle of the bowel system comes under voluntary nervous system control and the person decides when to let poop have its way. There are many blissful years in this stage where going becomes a routine affair attracting little attention. But then, and with very little warning, the musculature of the bowel system says I’m sick of your voluntary suppression. So if it’s suppression you want, then suppression you shall have. See how you like that!
No one knows when in their life the intestinal system will make this decision or how severely and frequently it will go on strike. Typically, sometime after 60. But the striking workers are devious in their tactics to extract revenge for a lifetime of oppression. They may stop working altogether inevitably resulting in consumption of MiraLAX, a tasteless anti-constipation bilge some poor soul sends across the picket line like a scab into the steel mill.
The strikers hate this and so they stop their strike all at once. Then the poor parent, now in their 60s, 70s or 80s, who dreamed of days without blowouts from their children are searching for their own blowout diaper. They find one, don it, only to discover the workers are back on strike and the scabs have been incorporated into the picket line. Days go by with no action as the malevolent strikers cackle in anticipation. The unsuspecting victim removes the adult diaper believing they are safe, and the trap is sprung.
Such drama! Now, you might be asking yourself what does this have to do with faith. Nothin’. I thought just maybe this post could give you a smile on a day when you needed it.
Hope it worked. Have a wonderful, blessed day everyone.
Dave
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