Could There Be Anymore Poop Stories?

Saturday afternoon as we were driving from Tampa to a beach just outside of St. Petersburg, I got to thinking about a story my friend Bonnie had told me. I was venting to her one day a couple months ago about my woes regarding Allie and her refusal to, well, poop in the toilet, and how she pooped in our community pool, which left me mortified. Like in stores that post bounced checks, I swear I've seen our pictures posted in the clubhouse with the heading, "Do not let this rubbish in, no matter what!" Bonnie told me about how their oldest had pooped on the sand at the beach the previous year, when she was five. Not knowing what to do, they just buried it in the sand. I laughed. I pondered the story as we neared the coastline, wondering what I would do in that situation. I decided that since we usually bring toys with us, I would simply scoop it up in a bucket and toss it in the nearest bush... then I realized that this time we had no toys. Heck, we were 2 1/2 hours from home, and I wasn't about to pack up a bunch of toys to drag around an unfamiliar beach. I thought, Eh, she won't poop. Not here. I tried really hard to convince myself of this, but deep down I knew it was a bunch of hooey.

We trekked out to the beach, just to see there was sort of a narrow, shallow "intercoastal waterway." We walked a ways trying to find a way across when we realized everyone was just crossing through the knee-deep water at the narrowest part. Good thing I didn't bring that trunk-load of toys! After crossing and finding a spot, we dumped our bags and raced out to the water. Well, Dad and Allie "raced," but I stayed behind to help poor Sami, the wimp, gather enough courage to go out. The courage never came, so I picked her up, and took her in the water, with the turkey whining and clinging to me the whole time. Not ten minutes passed when Allie grabbed her behind. Kev pointed it out, and I scooped her up and headed back towards land. Why is that when you need to get somewhere quickly, it suddenly seems so painfully far away, and you can't move your legs fast enough? Twenty yards becomes twenty miles. I finally got to the sand, "three hours" later, and put Allie down, with her still holding her bum.

"Mom, I have to poop!"

"I know, honey, hold it in! Hold it in!"

The waterway we had to walk across to be able to get back to a bathroom was still at least 100 yards away. I trudged through the sand, and Allie fell behind. I stopped to wait, looking for her dance of discomfort when I realized she didn't look uncomfortable at all. Oh no! I walked back, peeked around at her back side, and saw a big brown spot on her shorts. Praying the "gift" wouldn't fall in the sand at that point, in front of a dozen people, I told her to walk slowly. Didn't work. She did walk very carefully, understanding exactly why I had instructed her to do so, but just that little amount of motion was enough to dislodge it. It landed in the sand directly in front of a couple sitting in their beach chairs. I looked up to see if they had seen, and it seemed they were distracted elsewhere, so, thinking fast, I was reminded of Bonnie's story, and I buried it. I used my foot to drag sand over it, making a thick pile, and I hoped with all my being that no one had seen. I made Allie go sit in the water for a while, washing out the remnants. Oh, come one, it's the ocean, for crying out loud! A little bit of Allie's feces is hardly going to hurt anyone! We then walked all the way to the restroom, because Allie was convinced she still needed to go. After walking back, Kev came back over with Sami, and I informed him of recent happenings. He quickly sympathized, and then asked if he could go out and body surf for a bit. Ugh, fine. Not two minutes after he left, with me walking back up the beach with the girls, Allie grabbed her crotch.

"Mom, I need to pee!"

"What are you talking about, Allie?! You just peed in the toilet a few minutes ago! I think you're fine. You can hold it." Bad choice, Mom.

Her hand then moved to her behind again.

"Mom, I need to poop again!"

Should have listened before. "Hold it in, Allie! Let's go! Hurry!"

She didn't get five feet before another blob fell out of her shorts. Again, I panicked and looked around. Phew, no one saw it! My foot was getting quite skilled at this whole burying-poop-thing (not a skill I had ever hoped to have to master), and I commanded Allie to sit herself down in the water again. Of course! All of this would happen when Kev's not around! It didn't take long for Kev to make his way back to us. His head drooped and shook from side-to-side when I told him of the ordeal. He said we should have just taken her to a dog beach.

Maybe I should just get myself a Pooper Scooper.