I work with 7th graders at an after-school program that services at-risk kids. Right before winter break over the course of a week, a bunch of them approached me complaining of stomachaches.
I ran the usual gamut of questions I grew up with having been born with a neurotic 90-year-old’s digestive system: What did you eat today? Do you have any food allergies? How much did you eat? Have you eaten at all today (maybe you’re hungry)? Do you have a history of tummy problems?
After receiving unremarkable responses to the aforementioned questions, I moved on to the one that should warrant a polite whisper from most people but only elicited a slightly lowered voice from one so well-acquainted with intestinal distress and thus permanently numbed to its ravages: When was the last time you pooped?
And every single kid–Every. Single. One.–responded, on average, that they had not pooped for at least a week. One girl, whose agonized expression suggested that she was ready to welcome death’s sweet embrace then and there, said that she hadn’t done the deed for three weeks.
Almost four. That is a month. An entire month poop-free.
It became clear to me that a serious discussion was in order. I’d a class full of constipated, agonized 13-year-olds who subsisted entirely on Takis and various artificial bread products. There was nary a grape or a carrot to be seen.They worshiped instead at the altar of the Hot Cheeto and whispered vespers to their lord and savior, the pan pizza.
So one day, near the end of programming, I gathered them all in a classroom. They took their seats, unsure as to why they were gathered there when they all had pressing appointments with a Snapchat filter.
They looked at me expectantly. I cleared my throat.
“When was the last time you guys pooped?” I asked.
The room erupted into cacophony.
“Wait, ask me again–ask me again–!”
“Why you up there askin’ why we poop, Miss? You nasty!”
“Say that again!” I shouted with a clap, pointing to the last student who had spoken. She looked startled.
“Yeah, you,” I said. “What did you just say?”
“I, um….I pooped this morning?”
“Okay, GREAT.” If they didn’t already, they were now fearing for my sanity. “What did you eat for dinner last night?”
“Well,” she said philosophically, “I had some chicken and some veggies like in a stir-fry.”
“Cool. Anybody have any idea why chicken and veggies are a good meal choice?”
One kid near the back hesitantly raised his hand.
“Because they…help you poop?”
I clapped again. “You got it. Why?”
“‘Cause they nasty,” someone else shouted.
“Okay, no, that’s not why. Also, they’re delicious, so reevaluate your life choices….Who knows what fiber is?”
“It’s the gross food they make you eat like fruit,” a girl in the front said.
“Not gross, but yes, fruit. Fiber is anything that acts like a brillo pad in your intestines. Veggies are full of fiber.”
“A brillo pad.”
“It’s those rough green things you use to clean the bathroom,” I explained.
"Pfft, I don’t clean my bathroom.”
I’d had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t, but I kept that to myself, continuing, “Fiber helps move things along in your pipes. When you DON’T eat fiber, you come to me and tell me that you haven’t pooped in three weeks. Because without fiber, your body basically can only make steel poop, and then it gets backed up and gives you stomachaches.”
“This is gross, Miss.”
“Steel poop is grosser,” I said.
I spent the next ten minutes listing and discussing poop-friendly foods. In a development that should surprise approximately no one, barely any of the kids ate those foods.
“So it’s no WONDER you guys aren’t ever pooping because you basically eat modified paper products,” I finished. “Here’s your challenge. I want you to eat at least ONE of the foods listed here with every meal. And keep each other in check. Be a poop buddy.”
A few days later, six different students approached me after school. They all delivered more or less the same message, voices lowered confidentially, eyebrows quirked in pride.
“Miss,” they told me, “I pooped today.”
Even better, they began to hold each other accountable. Not all of them had joined the Poop Brigade, but recruitment into the ranks itself was a small victory.
And that is the story of how my students now habitually ask each other, “Have you pooped today?”
Pooped my pants and had to embarrass myself by asking a male employee “where are the diapers for men, or the potty…I uh…I just pooped my pants and my undies are kinda full….” His eyes widened when I said I pooped myself buuuut he was super nice about it and told me…then I turned around and he saw it SO EMBARRASSING and hot dare me fellas!!
“Always take the high road. But when the high road gets too high that you get a nosebleed, get off it.”
“She [Anna Wintour] does not ride an elevator with mere mortals”
[he was talking about a time anna wintour was mad when he mentioned her in an interview so he sent her some flowers] "In our culture, white is a symbol of peace. In Asian culture white means death. So it had a double meaning and I like that"
“[At Parson’s] they called me mr. fix-it but I called myself the pooper scooper and I said this place needs to stop pooping!”
when asked about wearing fur/leather he said “I don’t see a reason to kill things that are better off living”
he tripped over a microphone cord and said “oh no grandpa’s tumbling”
Always take the high road. But when the high road gets too high that you get a nosebleed, get off it.
Let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my work
Dean’s dislike for dogs, wasn’t unknown. They shed, they peed, they could damage Baby, all in all Dean was not a dog person. Sam and MJ on the other hand loved dogs. Growing up Sam had always dreamed of having a dog and they still held a special fondness in his heart. MJ loved the animals, she’d asked Dean numerous times before for a pet, he’d turned her down every time.
“Daddy?” MJ asked her Dad at breakfast one morning. “Can we please get a doggy?”
Dean groaned, not this again, “Sweetheart we’ve been over this. No! No dogs.”
“But why not,” she whined, trying to get her way.
“Because I said so. I don’t like them. They smell, they shed, they’ll poop in the house. No MJ, no pets.”
“BUT WE NEED A PUPPY!” MJ shouted.
Sam laughed coming into the room, “What’s going on in here?”
“Uncle Sam,” the little girl’s face lit up at the sight of a hopeful ally. “I was just telling Dad how we really really need a dog. He says no, but I think he’d learn to love our dog.”
“Sam, I’ve tried to make it clear to MJ and I’ll tell you too. No dogs!”
Sam winked at his niece before turning to his brother, “I clearly remember a time you joyously rode around in Baby, hanging out the window with a german shephard.”
“We said we’d never talk about that again!”
“No, actually, you said that,” Sam smirked. “I plan on never forgetting that day.”
“Wait, Daddy let a dog in Baby?” MJ asked with a shocked face. “Not uh Uncle Sammy. I don’t believe you.”
Sam chuckled, “He did. Must like them more than he wants us to believe. I agree with MJ, we definitely need a dog.”
MJ smiled up at her uncle, then turned pleadingly toward her father. She stuck out her bottom lip and gave Dean her best puppy dog face.
“Don’t, don’t you do that,” Dean warned, shaking his head at her. Sam laughed before joining his niece, knowing Dean would struggle to say no to the both of them now. “No, Sam! Don’t join her. Stop with the puppy dog faces.”
MJ tried not to laugh, continuing to try and force her father to give her what she wanted. Dean jumped up from the table and backed up, “STOP! This isn’t fair, you can’t team up against me. Why did you teach her that Sam?”
“What would we even do with a dog? We’re on the road too much. It would never work,” Dean tried to reason as he started to slowly back toward the exit.
“Please,” MJ started begging, Sam chuckled before joining her. Dean finally made it to the door, turned and bolted down the hall, escaping the verbal attack.
“I think we made some progress Uncle Sam,” The older man raised his eyebrows at her. “I think we can crack him. Maybe if we ask him every single day he’ll finally say yes.”
Sam laughed, she was definitely as determined and stubborn as her father.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” I said to myself as I almost stepped in dog poop. “Justin! Your dog shit again!” I yelled to him. I heard no response. “Justin?” I said again looking for my boyfriend. I heard him gasp. “Uh oh! Why would you do that Esther?” I heard him say. I saw him walk into his second closet. “What so you’re just gonna leave it there?” I asked him as I leaned against the doorframe. “Baaaaaabe will you clean it up please?” He said showing me his puppy dog eyes. I rolled mine. He stuck out his bottom lip. “Please?” He repeated. “I mean I guess.” I whined as I went to get paper towels.
“I could be a street worker. Not a prostitute.” He giggled. I rolled my eyes again. He could be so goofy. I finished cleaning up Esther’s mess, and Justin had finished his video. “Thank you baaaaabe.” He said kissing me. “You were really gonna leave it there weren’t you?” I laughed. “Noooooo.” He lied. “You’re so gross.” I laughed. He then attacked me with kisses.
Carson doesn’t come with to the dog park every time I take the other two. Instead he stays home with some treats. Those are better for him than what he likes to eat at the park.
From time to time he sneaks off. When I find him he’s eating dog poop. I asked my favorite veterinarian why some dogs do this. Her technical answer was “Dogs are gross.” Thanks, MAR.
The other day I brought Carson because he didn’t even want a treat in lieu of a ride in the car and a run at the park. OK, fine. As I walked around a woman came over to me with a sour look on her face.
“You’re dog is eating…”
I interrupted her and said “Ugh, I know. Poop. He’s so weird.”
She said, “Yeah, my dog does it too. But just not that much! Your dog looks like he’s at a buffet.”
Dissecting this exchange, it says there’s some sort of acceptable amount of dog poop eating. Carson exceeds it.
once upon a fresh and dope summer ☀️ day there was a flirty lil emoji that looked smth like dis: 😙. but even tho he was FLIRTY AF 😍 he had a problameo…NO LUV OF HIS LIFE 😩😩😩💦😂😅😬
“when will i ever find #truluv 😭😭😭” he cried.
den……………………. ………..the 💩 emoji showed-up.
“y hello there mr. 😙…why so glum, chum? 🤔”
“becuz no luv in me life!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😉”
“well…😏” said 💩 “i may just be a lil poop but…maybe i can change that”
(next part is very explicit rated rx69000 sexiness so no children past this point ur parents will probably ground u and i dont wanna get a felony)
🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷🎷💩👉🍆🍑👌😙💞💞💞💞💞💞💞 they had the sexing