I was in the bathroom washing the soap residue off the back of the sink when Trygg stuck his head in the door. He just stared at me. Now, he likes to help wipe things up and help keep things tidy – but this was a bathroom after-all and not really the best place for a 4-year old to master his cleaning craft.
When he didn’t say anything I said, “what’s up buddy?” He sighed a really big sigh, pursed his lips together and then looked me in the eyes and matter-of-factly said: “I need to poop.” Well, don’t let me stop you. The last thing I want is him getting as backed up as a toilet in a truck stop (to really get that joke you should read my last blog).
“Well, I’m just wiping out the sink so you can go ahead and poop if you want to.” Inside I was quietly thanking God for the sinus infection he had bestowed upon me two days earlier that has resulted in the complete blockage of my nasal passages, and with that, the complete inability to smell. I knew what I was missing without my sense of smell at this moment, and I was not missing it at all!
For some reason when Trygg is at home and he needs to poop he finds it necessary to strip completely naked from the waist down, with the exception of his socks (but who likes a cold floor anyway?). Today was no different from any other day and I simply stepped over his cute little skull and cross-bone boxer briefs and gray shorts as I hung the towel neatly in its place.
While taking care of the current business at hand he decides to engage me in conversation. “Hey mom -” and without pausing long enough for me to so say what – he states: “I love you to the moon. (dramatic pause) That’s a lot of love. (another, yet even longer dramatic pause) How much do you love me?” There is no way I am going to be outdone by a four-year old so I smile back at him while he’s grunting and turning red in the face from pushing to hard and say: “Well, I love you to the moon (dramatic pause while he leans forward on the toilet seat eagerly anticipating more from me, or maybe he leaned forward to help ease his poo out. You conjure up whatever image suits your imagination needs here.), and back. Now that’s a lot of love isn’t it?” Of course, I’m giving him that ‘I got you now didn’t I’ look while waiting for him to respond.
He sits back on the toilet (oh my gosh can he poop any slower!), shrugs his shoulders and lets out a long slow satisfying sigh and says: “Well, you’re not smarter than God or Jesus.”
“Nope, I’m not. But I’m pretty darn close.” Is my answer.
Now I can see the wheels really starting to turn in his head. He’s going to sit there until he thinks of something else to ask me. Why on earth does he do this, I have no idea. And what is it with boys and all this thinking while they are pooping? Get in there, get it done, and get on with life already?! I’ve got things to do and this isn’t one of them! Although unfortunately for me, he still can’t wipe his butt (well he can, but it won’t be clean). So in some sort of weird, all the stars are out of alignment in the universe and hell has just frozen over sort of way, this is one of those things I’ve got to do today. Damn.
To test just how smart I am Trygg asks me (keep in mind this is not his first time pooping today), “Why do I poop so much?” Before I provide my answer I just want to know, at what point in my life did those things that you never talk about become the object of common everyday household conversations? Bodily functions and all things associated with them are the topics of choice at our house, even around the table. When did this happen?!
“Well,” I start . . . “all that food you eat has to go somewhere when your body is done using it.” He’s looking at me really inquisitively now, I can see there is something phenomenal about to come out of his mouth.
But, there was nothing. . . yet. So I continued, “Just think what you’d look like if you never pooped after eating something and your body was done using it?” In my mind I’m seeing that girl from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that ate, and ate, and ate all the blueberry stuff and she blew up into this giant, over-sized, big, snotty, blue ball. Wow, now that is one person that could stand to use the bathroom more often. So that’s the image in my mind. I have no idea what Trygg was thinking but he stared at me.
He stared. He stared and pursed his lips. Then his face went blank and he got that look kids get when they are dumbfounded and all they can say is “but, but, but, but, but. . . . ” Yeah, it was that look. Then he sat up on the toilet, signed and tilted his head to one side as if they were one solid motion and while throwing his arms in the air he said (in the most pleading sounding voice ever): “But I NEEDED (dramatically emphasizing this word) those oreo’s I just ate mom. I NEEDED them.”
Yep, my job here is done. Trygg thought of that fat blue brat in the movie too and for a moment was scared. He was scared that he’d look like that if he didn’t hurry up and poop those darn oreo’s out.
Wouldn’t you know it. Not more than ten seconds later he was done. Amazing what a little idle chatter can do for you in the bathroom isn’t it? I asked him, “Do you think you already pooped out those oreo’s you just ate?” I mean, seriously. He had literally just eaten three oreo’s and there was no physical way they were done passing through his system already. But he’s four so what does he know? His answer:
“But I NEEDED them.”