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Revenge of the Turds

Revenge of the Turds

Never in a million years did I think I would spend so much of my life involved in discussions around poo. I was one of those kids that never went to the ‘bathroom’ (actually a revolting hole in the ground) on school camp and was raised in a house where we generally kept our bathroom habits to ourselves.

However, something tells me I should have seen it coming. When I turned two, a friend of my mum’s bought me a beautiful white Persian cat. He was a gorgeous boy, who’s name was Cindy. Poor Cindy however was not constructed altogether correctly and had a very unfortunate bowel problem which lead to him being known (still to this day) as “The Poo Cat”. I think one of the happiest days of my mum’s life was the day someone ran over poor Cindy in a laneway near our house.

Following is our poor youngest daughter who has suffered from a chronic bowel issue for the last 4 years (which I wont write about here because one day she will read it and kill me). Suffice it to say however that in order to help her through this we have, as a household, embraced poo charts, poo rewards, poo fairies, poo songs, poo powder and poo parties! Whereas I was once too princess-like to even say the word ‘poo’ out loud, I am now considering having it tattooed Pamela Anderson style around my bicep (not really but I might as well be given its significance in our family).

The one phenomenon however that I will never recover from discovering, and which has been well utilised in my household, is the little known wonder of The Revenge Poo. The Revenge Poo is used by cunning and dastardly beings to express their displeasure with your actions and/or to ensure you realise their “owner” has won a particular round of battle.

We have two such Revenge Poo experts in our household.

First cab off the rank was our son. When he was little he would fight his daytime nap like his little life depended on it. His ability (as is present in all my children) to smell fear, meant that the more desperate I was for a break, the harder he would fight his nap. And man, was he good! He worked his was through a number of strategies until he hit upon “The Revenge Poo” – a total game changer. My clever little boy figured out that I would never just leave him to cry (or sleep for that matter) in a steaming pile of shit. So what did he do? Whenever he felt the urge to resist his sleep he would wait until I had left the room, fuss for a little bit to test the waters and if I didn’t come in, he’d deploy an almighty turd to ensure I had to get him out of his cot to change him.

On one occasion my Mum was looking after him and she had either decided to take a no nonsense approach and ignore his crying or was too deaf to even hear him (I’m not sure which), so he took off his shitty nappy and spread its contents as far and wide as he could to make sure we got the memo of who was boss. We totally did.

Thankfully, once he had given up his daytime sleep, my son retired the Revenge Poo from his arsenal and we could all breath a sigh of relief. UNTIL…we adopted our sweet beautiful white furry rescue puppy.

She is the most adorable little thing you have ever seen, but she is no little shrinking violet. One evening, after one of our first days out without her, we retuned home to find that the sweet and oh, so clever little poppet had gotten herself around the house and done one little shit on every one of our beds!!

The revenge poo was well and truly back in play, and this lady was 100% playing for keeps!!! 

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