I've Looked into the Eye of Sauron...

As I sat tonight thinking about what to write, I listened to the sounds of my children coming from their rooms. Normally, this is a happy sound filled with laughter and toys beeping, clanking, smashing and crashing. Tonight, that was not the case. The sounds I heard were just plainly disturbing. My seven-year-old was reading some freaking potty training book we inherited to my three-yea-old, who incidentally IS already potty trained.

Tonight, I learned that Prudence makes wee-wee and poo-poo in her potty. [Mind you, I already know the book and I’m aware that her “potty” looks more like a pottery orange juice carafe than an actual potty] I heard them discussing Prudence’s poop hole. They were generally amazed that Prudence “sat on a pitcher in her room” to take a dump. They contemplated Prudence’s bigger issues – like what would happen if her mommy didn’t empty the crap into the potty…and if Prudence would have to do it herself: GROSS!



My girls discussed the fact that Prudence walked around with no undies on. They thoroughly dissected the fact that she would need some pairs when she went to kindergarten. They wondered if she wore her pants without her undies too. Frankly, I hope I never live to find out that particular answer. Or that I don’t have to be home when my husband has to have the “you cannot go to school commando style” conversation with my son.

Enter my son into the actual mix. Now, conversation turned to Prudence’s poo-poo and the fact that it wasn’t as big as a dinosaur’s. Then the oldest screamed about how much that would stink. The youngest chimed in that Prudence couldn’t smell as bad as chicken butt. I knew at this point, I should have stopped the conversation, but plainly – I was transfixed.

Transfixed that is, until the children in question emerged from the room, and entered mine. Suddenly, Prudence and her poop-hole were shoved in my face. I was treated to many disturbing pages of Prudence’s naked hind end. I sincerely hope that the author and illustrators are proud of themselves. I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my natural adult life. If I never see another poop-hole again, it will be too soon!