I've fallen victim to one of the greatest marketing ploys in recent years. I've watched countless commercials about fiber. Fiber additives. Fiber enriched products. Fiber pills and powders. What an exceedingly brilliant idea! I have in my hand two cereals. Both equally tasty looking. Both similar in calories per portion size. One has a poop-ton more fiber. I bet you can guess which one went in my cart.
And that was how this fateful tragedy started. I ate a handful of this cereal one afternoon when my sandwich had somehow gotten soggy (there is nothing I hate more than soggy bread - GROSS!). Four hours later on my ride home from work, the 150 grams per serving of fiber took its toll. I thought I was going to die. I wasn't sure I was going to make the ride home. I'm lucky there were no cops, as explaining, "I'm only speeding because I really have to crap, or fart - I'm not sure which just yet" wouldn't end well, I don't think...
By the time dinner rolls around, I might as well just spend my evening in the bathroom. Having to excuse myself every time I have to fluff (you remember that I'm still saving up to buy that 13th goat to marry off the oldest with flatulence issues...) is proving to be the most extensive exercise I've logged in some time. I'm at the table. I'm in the bathroom. I'm at the table. I'm in the bathroom. I'm walking back to the table...Oh, hell. I give up!
The kids laugh, and I'm reminded of every time one of my older family members has had a pooting problem. Grandmas who toot as they walk. Uncles who bust ass because they can no longer hear it and think no one else can either. Small babies that break wind loud enough to put grown men to shame. I'm sorry I ever made fun of any of them. I can barely stand to be in the same room as my own butt by this point.
Three days later, I still see no end in sight. I wonder if I should sue the "Delicious, Yes!" folks for not putting a disclaimer on their box for people with IBS. At this point, I've eaten so many bananas, cups of applesauce and cheese sticks I'm sure I'll never need a toilet again. My husband hugs me, trying to offer support - only to run from the room screaming. I'm afraid to go out in public. My children are no longer giggling.
My only consolation is in my evil thought that I will use my remaining cereal to make some sort of tasty treat. There are so many people I would love to pass along uncontrollable wind to! Just imagine: you hold in your hand something guaranteed to give someone massive gas in approximately two to four hours...Now, imagine a plate of cereal bars placed in a lovely array on a conference room table. Sure! Help yourself, they're delicious, yes?
poop-ton more fiber. well put.
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