The State of Poop Address

Warning: this post has no grand philosophical point

One of the many unexpected developments that has come with parenthood is my obsession with Harrison's poop. If I had a dollar for every time I've used the word "poop"in the last 10 months, I'd be able to buy an island in Fiji right next door to Mel Gibson.

I believe that there are two reasons for parental poop-obsession: 1. Poop is a great barometer to the health of one's child; and 2. it's necessary to track the latest poop activity in order to make ready for any upcoming poop. A Boy Scout level of preparedness is absolutely essential, and one must possess complete information about the volume, viscosity, and odor of any poop that may have occurred. Hence, the daycare report we receive daily gives us up to-the-minute BM progress. (That's what poop is called at daycare—"BM"—as in "Harrison didn't have a BM until 2 PM" or "Harrison's BM didn't have much texture today." For some reason, "BM" is a term that Doug and I both find giggle-inducing. We’re very mature.)

Oh, and it's not just the parents who are poop-obsessed. According to Dr. Spock, as toddlers become poop-aware, they take this fascination with feces to a whole new level. Spock notes that during the toilet-training process, toddlers become bizarrely possessive of their poop because they feel an extreme sense of pride at having produced something all by themselves. This notion makes me picture Harrison whirling around a training potty like Tom Hanks dancing around the fire in Castaway, shouting "Yes! Look what I have created! I have made poop!! I... [beats chest] have made poop!" Spock observes that toddlers even see their poop as an extension of their body, and he cautions that they can react with anger when their poop is flushed. He likens their response to one an adult would have at watching their own severed arm flushed away, never to be seen again.

I'm serious, folks.

And that's $16 for my Fiji fund.