This post contains more urine and feces than a Metrolink elevator.
First, the urine.
I'm trying to be healthy. I've been taking vitamins and processing that into the most vibrant of hues. I love it. Mornings are never boring.
And now, I promised Gertrude I would not repeat this story. Which means I absolutely have to.
I was watching TV and Gert peeked her head around the corner. "Mom? I've got a monster poo knocking at the door, so I'm going to the bathroom!"
I looked at her. I have no idea why I needed this information, but I said, "Okaaay…?"
Several minutes later, Gert pranced by on her way to her room. "False alarm!" she announced.
I began to wonder if I'd somehow signed up to receive informative, periodic updates on Gert's bathroom behavior. If so, how could I unsubscribe?
Then Gert came up to me with a concerned look on her face. "Uh, mom? I think I need a little help."
"Why? What's wrong?"
She shifted her weight awkwardly. "I thought I just had a fart, but it came out a little extra."
I leapt up and led the way to the bathroom, calmly explaining that it's nothing to worry about, everyone has a little accidental skid mark from time to time. No big deal. I helped her off with her undies, we'd just give them a quick soak and –
That was no skid mark.