The Problem With Poop

I can remember when I was pregnant with Malachi and I found out I was having a boy. I was so scared. A girl would have been easy. I was good at being girly. But a boy? All I could think of was that my little boy would never be dirty or stinky or ridiculously silly. And then he was born and I fell in love. I was in love with a dirty, stinky little boy. But I still wanted him to be proper, I suppose? I've always taught Malachi and my other kids not to say words like "stupid" or "shut up". I've scrubbed grimy hands and I've made sure they know how important the words "please" and "thank you" are.

I've gotten so used to saying, "we don't say that word." But tonight, when Malachi was quietly doing his homework, he came into the kitchen where I was cleaning up after dinner. He told me he finished his homework and walked towards the laundry room to put it in his backpack. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something written on both of his feet. "Wait, Malachi," I said. And when I saw what was written, 16 year old Sandra came into my mind. He had written "Poop" on the tops of both of his feet. Normally I would tell the kids not to say that, but I was struck that my stinky little boy is now a stinky *almost* preteen. And I remembered a time when writing "poop" on things was not just funny, but insanely hilarious. A time when my parents would ask me a question and the only answer that seemed fitting was a drawn out, "POOOOOOOOP". How could I tell my son not to write the word "poop" on himself when I once thought that was the pinnacle of all things clever and hilarious?

So I let it slide. I couldn't help but crack a smile when I saw what he had done to his stinky feet. And in that moment, we shared a weird bond. I'm still going to teach my kids to choose words that are positive. But "poop" is evidently one word that will always be funny. And what would the world be without a little poop?