Do not read . . . Seriously! This post is about poo.

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And not the kind that eats honey and who has a best friend called Eeeyore ;(

The last 24 hours my life has been ruled by faeces. Gross, huh? Well not when you consider it brought about two happy endings.

Poo Story One

On the Autistic Bus the past day and a bit, Mr L has been seriously out of sorts. Hitting himself, hitting me, hitting the windows of the bus. He hasn’t done this in weeks. Mr L was fractious at home and he was fractious at school.

Then when I picked him up from school on the Autistic Bus this afternoon, I was told by Gorgeous Aid 1, that Mr L had emptied his bowels of the solid variety and was now a much happier boy. Yay!

End of PS1

Poo Story Two

On the Autistic Bus this morning I developed a most unpleasant need to expunge foul gas from my back end. Thankfully I was on a bus full of children, so the blame was easy to pass. However, when I disembarked from the bus I began to go into a panic.

Farting was no longer enough. I was at severe risk of creating a ‘turtle head’ and I had to get home NOW.

Gargh!

Changing gears was incredibly painful. I was in too much pain to squeeze my pelvic floor muscles to maintain no early arrival of the impending force. But . . . there was already the matter of the latent turtle head. Oh dear god, please don’t inflict the pain of passing the obstruction early therefore missing the pleasure of the utter relief it’s passing would create!

I was literally bent over the steering wheel with pain when I pulled into my carport. Just 15 metres to go, could I make it? In too much pain to even beg higher beings for mercy, I hobbled to the lav.

Only to have three excited canines DEMAND attention. NOW!

My strides came town, I did a fast pirouette, and sat! Hallelujah, praise the lord. I made it.

After some short breaths reminiscent of pre-natal classes, my innards relaxed . . . . . and nothing happened!

The turtle head was now a cork and I was up that creek without a paddle. Tears began to form in my eyes. An unnatural pressure was building in my bottom half. I think I was going to blow!

And,

I did!

A mass the size of a pink grapefruit, finally escaped my poor poor tummy, and I gave out an equally large sigh (you thought I was going to say fart, didn’t you?).

As I type this post, I can still feel the recoil of the muscles in my derrière as they try to regain their normal size. It may take days!

End of PS2

So – there are my two stories about poo.

Hurrah to you, if you read it all!

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2 responses »

  1. HA HA HA HA HA HA GREAT STORY PIA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    glad you feel better now …………………..

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