Saturday, September 18, 2010

a letter to my husband about poop.

stop reading now if the title bothers you, because that is exactly what this post is about... poop.


dear pete,
last night around 11:15, while you were out on the town with all your work dudes in san francisco having fun (hopefully not too much fun...), i was woken up by a delirious, half-asleep, eyes-still-closed, squirmy mr. finn who had to go to the bathroom.  i take him into the bathroom and stand him in front of the toilet.  he's still mostly asleep and kind of starts fussing about the situation.  i tell him its fine and just go so we can go back to bed.  he's still not going which i thought was weird since he is clearly squirming all over the place as if he is trying to hold it in, so i continue to reassure him again and again that really it is fine and he should just go.  i hear (or rather feel) a little ploop, ploop, ploop.  down his legs, down the front of my pajama pants, lands on my feet and on the floor.  fantastic.  apparently i had been reassuring the poor kid that it was totally ok to just poo standing right there in front of (rather than on) the toilet.  now we are just standing there in our messy little situation with no husband to call in for backup.  no one to call in and say you clean up this guy while i get the rest of this.  so, i clean us all up and we go back to bed.  not that having you there, pete, would have prevented it from happening, but i can't help but laugh at the fact that this is the kind of stuff that always happens when you are gone.  so, basically, we miss you (and not just because you are not here to help) and i hope you are not too bummed that you missed out on poo clean-up last night.
that's all.
love, emily


also, happy birthday, uncle al.  we miss you, too and hope you are having a fantastic time in rome (or wherever you find yourself in europe today).  


sorry to share your birthday wishes with the poop story.  
it is what it is.  

post edit - al, this is what we sent you for your birthday.  


it is a surprise ball.  hopefully it actually makes it all the way to you.  and hopefully it somewhat resembles this picture (we kind of squished it into an envelope).  and hopefully you enjoy its randomness.  once again, happy birthday.  we love you.

4 comments:

Mary Weisse said...

I response to your comment: It is surely Dad's fault that we are so okay with these things. But I just remembered that Dad used to have us call poop "Big Mess" which I think only confused other people when we said it. "I made a big mess!"--where out poops always literally that messy? I remember seeing a book at a store once called "Gonzo's Big Mess" (surely about his messy room) and I chuckled to myself because I thought it was about poop. He did a lot to confuse our childhoods. Don't get me started on "Motorcycles."
PS- Kathleen Mehan also just did a post about Poop so at least we are not the only ones.

Kristy said...

too funny. just found your blog. happy i did. love the surprise ball, did you make it? totally cool.

Ivana said...

Happy birthday uncle Al!
Welcome to my neighbourhood (Croatia and italy are neighbour-countries):-D!
They are sooooo cute! xx

Lucia said...

I love a good Burch poo story!Is Pete on a sailing related "work" trip? Lucky, if he is.