My sister insists that I talk about poop more than anyone she knows. Evidently, it’s not an acceptable topic of conversation.
I think she just doesn’t hang out with the right people.
A million years ago, when I was a runner, poop was a regular conversation starter. I remember having lengthy discussions about where to store the TP you would eventually need one day during a long run, and sharing our worst “runners trots” horror stories.
I’ve crapped in a cornfield and nearly been attacked by wild dogs, kids. That’s a story worth sharing during happy hour.
Fast forward to my triathlon days, where sex and poop were what training partners bonded over.
Not having sex, talking about it. Though had I been single I would have humped the crap out of a few of my training partners too.
I will never forget the online conversation with a group of triathletes where a woman was told it was ok to go to the bathroom on the bike. I guess she didn’t realize that meant #1 and NOT #2, and dropped a duce in her tri shorts. The conversation delved into the particulars of feel and smell, and those who were on the ride with her added their commentary. That cemented that idea-I’ve-never-had firmly on my NOT to-do list.
Now that you’ve read that you’ll never forget it either, will you?
This morning at Crossfit, Mickey-Blue-Eyes (who is probably too young to get that movie reference) was talking about his lovely job in the medical field. During our walking lunges he mentioned that his primary job duties involve “removing the poop from the butts old guys who can’t go on their own,” or something along those lines.
It takes a lot to render me speechless, but for about a solid minute afterwards I just had to process that statement. It was simultaneously super disgusting and possibly the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard.
As it turned out, most everyone agreed that poop is gross, but it didn’t bother them to talk about it. At 6 a.m… while doing chair sits… and sweating.
So I’ve decided, there are groups of people and occasions in which it is ok to talk about poop. In my extensive poop-talk experience, it’s acceptable to talk about it with anyone you work out with. I guess once someone has seen you with the potential to drown in a puddle of your own sweat, that’s a bond that can withstand a lot of grossness.
Sorry sis, but you’ve been over ruled. You have a toddler. You of all people know, shit happens.