Tag Archives: toilet

Road Trips and Other Thoughts

5 Nov

Road Trip- Family road trips are great. You get to change atmosphere, spend some time with the family, see new things, if you are lucky and avoid rush hour you are in for a smooth ride. In short, road trips can be a lot of fun. But when the kids are asleep in the back, and you and your wife finally have some real quality time to have a meaningful conversation, after you talk about the kids, sex, work, money, starting your own business and your friends, you start talking about your relatives. In the middle of the talk about your relatives you decide to buy more life insurance.

Don’t Flush- There are many reasons why Don’t Flush order is in effect. The most obvious one is a clogged toilet, but there are other reasons like water preservation or just trying not to wake the kids up. Regardless of the reason, the likelihood of actually remembering not to flush is slim at best. I could spend the entire time I pee thinking about how much I shouldn’t flush. I keep thinking about it while I pull the lever and then realize what I just did deep into washing my hands.

The Package- An unidentified box came to my work. I was asked to look into it. Since there was no name on the box it remained unopened. So it was for me to determine who’s it for. I opened it alone, but the loud “Holly Shit” that came out of my mouth unintentionally attracted  a small crowd. In the box, resting comfortably side by side, was a big blue dildo, and a ring shaped piece of equipment that despite all my porn education I’ve never seen before. We couldn’t find a name on the packing slip at first, and I was already thinking about how to sneak the ring shaped thing out of the building when we saw the name. Why the fuck would you have this stuff ship to work? What was he thinking? He said he bought it as a gift for someone. That’s what I would have said if someone found my dildo.

Last thing- Between road trips, hurricanes, parenthood and a bunch of other things I wasn’t around much to share the shittiness of a dad that I am with the world. So thanks for still reading my stuff.

 

 

Of Shite and Men

2 Oct

    • Would you like some Champagne?” At first we said no, then they asked again, more firmly and we said yes. A mistake considering that we haven’t had a drink in so long that we forgot how to drink, It was only eleven in the AM, and that it was a birthday party for a three year old. We felt that it was getting too crowded and noisy for our seven months old daughter and tried to leave but we were ordered to “Stay for the cake!” We regretted it shortly after, when our baby had an explosion of diarrhea that went over her clothes. They barely let my wife get out to go to the car, where she found out she didn’t have a change of cloths for the girl. The ride home was great…

 

    • How do you measure pride? Since there is no way of quantifying how proud one is, it has to be compared to other moments to know if it’s More or Less. I was prouder then an athlete’s parents seeing their child as a pro for the first time on TV (“there’s my kid over there…) when I saw my first born sitting on the toilet. Not so much for sitting there, but for doing it while on the iPad. That’s my big boy!

 

    • My friend from California does it to me. We speak once or twice a week, and he never fails me. Winter Spring Summer, or Fall, all I need to do is call, and five minutes into the conversation I have to shit. He is my Shit Trigger or “Shrigger”. “Call Shitty Dad’s Friend From California Today, And Say Goodbye To Constipation! Call today, operators are standing by.”

 

    • To the guy who walks in to our locker room/ restroom at work, just at the time when about a dozen guys are changing to soccer gear, walking into the one available stool with a grin on his face like some fool on a hill, and taking the stinkiest, noisiest shit I have ever smelled and heard in my life. You arrogant prick. I think twice before farting in the car, making sure no one will smell it if I stop at a traffic light. And here you are Mr. “Well, this is what bathrooms are for”, instead of going to the other toilet fifty feet away decide that it’s cool to do it there. Nobody said anything when this was going on but let me tell you something, I saw the looks, and none of us will ever be friends with you.

 

Turtle Head

8 Sep

I don’t like shitting in public places. I know from previous comments that I’m not alone in this. But sometimes a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

I had to take a dump so I went to the shitter at work. Two stalls, one urinal. Divided by plywood or something like that. I got in and set. I started doing my business and someone walked in and set on the other stool. I immediately resolved to code turtle head  (It looks like a turtle head sticking out of… figure it out on your own) and waited. I can’t perform like this. The guy barely set and started shitting his ass out. He was done in ninety seconds.

When he walked out of the booth, he slammed the door. As a result, my door opened. Thankfully, by the time it opened completely he was gone. So here I am sitting there with the door wide open. My worst nightmare I thought but it wasn’t over yet. So I decided to go for it and close the fucking door. With my pants to my knees I started frog walking. Then I heard the sound. Terrible sound.When you hear it you know you are fucked. It was the sound of the turtle head splashing on the floor.

And then someone walked in. I think (wishful) that I closed the door before he saw me.

Cleaning it was a bitch.

Guests

7 Aug

We love when guests from out of town come to visit and stay with us for a few days. Especially if it’s family. This was the case over the weekend.

The situation however, didn’t come without its challenges. No, I’m not talking about the fact that the kids stay with us in our room. If you read this shitty blog before, by now you know that the kids would end up in our bed at night anyway.

I’m talking about other things, more important. When you have guests you are unable to: Fart freely, so you have to find all kind of excuses to get out. But even then you are not safe because a neighbor might be outside and would want to start a conversation. So you find yourself stinking up the car because there is nowhere else to go. You pay for it the next morning when you get in to your car , and the farts that were locked in all night, don’t smell like your farts but someone else’s. Get naked, so you have to stay clothed until you go to sleep. My usual dress code at home in underwear, t-shirt optional. Shit when and where you want. We are limited to the bathroom in our bedroom, the one with all the plumbing issues. So every dump has a fifty fifty chance that all the shit from the entire building would rise and spill all over your floor, covering my feet with diarrhea from all walks of life. I shat with the plumbing snake next to me. Jerking off. Is there really more to say? OK, I’ll say more. The first night, The wife helped after the kids were asleep. After that, I was on my own, alone, in the dark, hiding in the bathroom, taking advantage of everybody going out for ten minutes leaving me all alone.

Thing is, that the moment I knew I couldn’t do these things freely, I needed to do them all the time….

 

Indian Buffet

29 Jul

I love Indian food. Buffet style especially.
My stomach, not so much.

This is why when i walk into the restaurant I’m always happy, exchanging pleasantries with the staff, throwing a couple of jokes up in the air. I enjoy the food. Take my time, go for a second and sometimes a third serving.
But when I leave I’m always running. Barely making it to the bathroom at home. There were a few cases where my wife had to take over the wheel and drive, because I was afraid that braking would result in a wet fart.

Having kids with you, especially a baby complicates things because a great baby would let you eat without any interruptions, but would get hungry right after that so instead of racing for the car, you now have to sit and feed your child and smile and be nice to all the people who congratulate you on your wonderful kids.
One might ask why don’t I just go to the toilet at the restaurant. There are two parts to the answer. One, this kind of reaction requires a lot of privacy. The second one is that I would hate doing it them. One time, I had to shit so bad after such a lunch buffet, that we had to stop at a Dunkin’ Donuts and use their bathroom. This was a brand new branch that just opened a couple of days before I got there. They were smiling at me when I walked in but not when I left. The place just wasn’t the same again after that.

Oh Shit

22 Jul

1. Toilet Followup– It finally happened. The toilet overflowed. My wife was drying her hair in the bathroom (barefoot of course) when the kid decided to flush. I was in the other room when I heard a big “NOOoo!” that was part warning part realization that it was too late. It was pretty bad when I got there. Everybody was in a state of shock. I was The Wolf only that I was doing the cleaning and not just the planning. The wife was unharmed so I sent her out. The son was deep in shit, literally. By then so was I. I picked him up and put him in the bath. I moved as many things as I could but it already reached the dirty laundry that was piled in the corner. So I used the cloths and a couple of towels for the cleanup- please keep this in mind next time you ask to take a shower at my place! A disinfection was also required. All in all, a good experience.

2. An Interesting sequence with a naked child-

“Take your finger out of your nose.”

“Take your hand out of your mouth.”

“Take your finger out of your tushy.”

“Take your finger out of mommy’s tushy.”

“Mine!”

“No, it’s mom’s”

“DON’T STICK YOUR HAND IN YOUR MOUTH!!!!”

“I am going to give him a bath….”

Namanini

11 Jul

“Wehh ma Namanini?”

We looked everywhere.

“Wehh ma Namanini” means “Where is my Lamborghini”. He is actually pretty good about it, not complaining too much. But we are obsessed. Where could it be? We searched the cars better then an entire Florida CSI team looking for DNA. The rooms, the kitchen, even the fridge was frisked. Nada.

The toilet is clogged. When you flush, more then one person’s poop comes up. Almost to the top. I fucking hate it. I took one of those toilet snakes, stuck it in the crap, and started twisting. You do this and you begin to understand why plumbers charge so much. The water went down. The snake is covered with everything that was in there. How do you clean it? It still won’t flush properly which makes it a pee only bathroom. Of course we forget. So the next morning I’m with the snake again in the shitter. This time it’s working and we can flush again. But as I’m cleaning my work area I start thinking about how the Lamborghini disappeared around the same time that the toilet got clogged and how these two cases might be somehow related, and how thiswill make a great Shitty Dad post.

I’m in the middle of a home inspection (we are trying to buy) and my phone is ringing. It’s my wife. I can’t pick up but she is calling again. She knows I’m busy so it must be important. When I finally answer she is screaming in my ear:”I found the Namanini!” I almost kiss the inspector but somehow keep it together. I came back home, went to the bathroom, and now it’s clogged again.

“Whee ma Beedubeyou (BMW)?”

He sure knows his cars!

Another poop story (not for the faint of heart)

27 Jun

Lately, as our plan to purchase our first home moves along , the adult conversation is about down payments, closing costs interest rates etc. Not so was the discussion that took place in the middle of the night a couple of nights ago. I did not remember it in the morning after but my wife’s hard drive is better then mine and she was there to remind me:

Wife: “What was that noise?”

Me: “He just pooped”.

Wife: “Are you sure?”

Me: “His ass is in my face”.

Wife: “Oh shit”.

And shitty it was let me tell ya (he was wearing a diaper thankfully, but still)…

In a related story, last night he was twisting and turning so much in bed ( It is important to mention that my son keeps on sneaking into our bed at night), that at 4:30am I decided to go to his room to sleep on the guest’s futon. Two minutes later he was an inch from my face talking about Robots and Dinosaurs. It smelled awful so I asked him if he pooped to which he proudly replied “Yup!” .This was one of the worst shit mess I’ve seen in a while. It went all over his legs, then he touched it with his hand which he then put on the sofa… What can I say, Morning has broken.

Bones

9 Jun

Corn

The wife had a very concerned expression on her face. “He is putting Toby on his penis” she said.

She was giving him a bath at the time, the baby in the poop seat next to her. The poop seat is just a bouncy seat but  both of our kids and also other kids that we know tend to shit when placed on one. I was not so involved as I was getting ready to watch the basketball game of course.

I walked into the bathroom, where my giggling son was doing the deed and understood the problem. “It’s not Toby, it’s Bulstrode the Barge that he puts on his penis” I shouted to her (Both from Thomas and Friends Just in case you are not in the kids business).

And yes he was putting it over his penis and enjoying it. This throws me back to one of my earliest memories. I was probably in Pre K when the teacher asked the kids where do we have bones. My turn came after “Hands” and “Legs” and I said “Penis!” The teacher and the assistant both laughed the hardest they did that year, and said that “no, there is no bone there”. But I never stopped  working that bone angle and eventually became a master jerk off.

“Potty” Said my son after the bath. He set there for about a minute and then shouted:”I did it!”. We went to look and there was it, an adult like in size and smell turd, with corn kernels proudly sticking out.

Indeed, my son is growing up.

What a Shitty Dad

18 Apr

Toilet  seat for shitty dad

After months of slaving around the house, your wife is finally ready to go out with a few girlfriends for dinner at the Cheesecake factory. before she leaves she makes sure that dinner is ready for you and your first born, and that a bottle is ready for the 10 week old who is being handed to you just before she leaves. Shrek is is on  even before the door closes behind your wife, your youngest offspring takes a sip of milk and is already asleep. You take advantage of the sudden freedom, and start stuffing your face with anything within an arms reach. The baby wakes up, the toddler is redecorating the floor with dinner and then it happens. It’s not like you can control it or anything, it’s just there. You have to take a dump. What are you going to do? A two and a half months old infant is sucking milk out of a bottle, and you calculate your every move so you don’t release a wet fart, you must to shit, right now. You leave the bottle and go to the bathroom with the baby in your arms, quickly taking your pants off while balancing the poor bundle of joy. You seat down. Explosion. Relief. You hold the baby sitting up just the way the lactation advisor told your wife to do in a patronizing tone, and when she burps, after putting her through stink hell all you can think is: “Please don’t spit up into my underwear” and she does. You clean the white stain first because it doesn’t look right, and only then you check to see if your own flesh and blood needs her face cleaned. What a shitty dad.