Poop is gross, right?
Poop. Is. Gross.
So why is it that poop jokes are soooo funny?
Hold that thought.
For the past few weeks, Gracelynn has been getting sick pretty much every time she eats. At first, we thought it was allergies. We eliminated certain common possibilities like dairy, wheat, etc. one at a time and it was still happening. It got to the point where she was avoiding meals because she knew what would come afterwards. And no, it wasn’t coming from the top end, folks…
So on Wednesday, her doctor ordered a stool sample. I thought it was kinda like in the veterinarian’s office, where they use the poop loop (okay that isn’t the real name but you guys know what I’m talking about, right?). I was like, “Aww, poor Grace… that sucks”. Then, the doctor looked at me and explained that I – yes, I being the lucky Mom to take her to this appointment – would be responsible for taking her home and collecting the sample myself.
I tried to hide the look of horror on my face, because I knew Grace was already horrified herself. It’s just poop, but… it’s poop. It’s poop! I thought we were past the point of me having to deal with poop, you know?
I smiled (grimaced?) through the explanation, and told the doctor I’d be able to handle it. I reassured Grace, “We got this!”, and we headed out the door. Before we even got to the car, I realized there was no freaking way I was going to be able to do it. I don’t know what it was, normally it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, but I just. couldn’t. do it. So, being the awesome daughter I am, I called my Mom. I told her Grace wanted to spend the night. She said okay.
When we got to my Mom’s house, I told her about the doctor’s visit, and she just laughed. She knew there was no point in arguing with me about it, she knew she was going to do it for me, but she just laughed because, well, I’m the mom and I should be doing it.
Anyway, long story short, Grace said “No way!!” when I said she had to go to her house to deal with the stool sample. I didn’t understand why. I thought maybe she was embarrassed, but that wasn’t the case. She confided in me: Mammie buys the cheap toilet paper. Grace remembers how much it hurt her nose when she had a cold last time. Scarred for life, yo.
(Comparing Charmin Ultra Strong, Charmin Ultra Soft, and the leading 1,000 sheet brand)
That wasn’t going to deter me. Mom was handling this poop situation! Because I’m a Charmin Influencer, I knew I still had some of the good stuff stashed away. I drove home and got the Charmin, then brought it back to Mom’s house so Grace could #Enjoythego, ya know? I delivered a roll of Charmin Ultra Strong and Charmin Ultra Soft. Little did she know, she was part of my blog experiment all along. Insert evil laugh here. I asked her which toilet paper she liked better, and she looked a little confused. I told her just to hand me her favorite, and she chose the Charmin Ultra Strong.
Sapphire, Jenelle, and Rachel all say Charmin Ultra Soft is their favorite because of how soft it is, but Charmin Ultra Strong is my favorite because of the clean feeling it leaves “down there”. The Charmin Ultra Strong has more of a washcloth-like texture, which I really like. A house divided, over toilet paper. Dun dun dun…
Okay, so back to the beginning of my story. Poop jokes make my kids laugh, way too much. I don’t know if it’s just because poop is gross, or because they know it’s a total shock factor for girls to be talking about poop, but really they laugh at an inappropriate level when poop jokes are told. I’m sure that’s partially all my fault. I’ll own it.
Our favorite poop jokes:
Did you know that diarrhea is hereditary?
It runs in your genes.
Groan…. okay so how about these:
Have you seen that new movie Constipated?It’s not come out yet.
And have you seen the sequel, Diarrhea?It leaked so they had to release it early.
Ha! You had to laugh at one of those. Which poop joke was your favorite? Number 1, or Number 2? Hahaha, okay, okay… no more poop jokes. I promise. ;)
P.S. I was compensated for this post but all opinions – and poop jokes – are my own.
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