Who doesn’t love that scene from Knocked Up where we all learned you can give all your roommates pink eye by merely bare-assed farting on their pillow? Classic.
However, I am here to tell you that living in a house full of toddlers is waaaay worse than a house full of malicious stoners.
For those of you who do not have kids, trust me when I say, potty training is by far the WORST stage of child-rearing (“you hear that, he wants to rear your child.” Sorry, I have Knocked Up on the brain). There is literally piss and shit everywhere. Kinda like in college, but much less funny. When your drunk friend shits himself in white shorts in the middle of a bar, it’s hilarious! When your 2-year-old drops heat all over your living room floor, and your 10-month old immediately thinks, “I must put that in my mouth;” still hilarious, but only after the fact. Allow me to present exhibits A thru C.
Exhibit A: While potty training my 2 and a half-year-old daughter, she decided to go commando. As she had pissed herself all day, I thought, “Sure, we’ll let it air out for a bit.” BTW, whoever said girls are easier to train than boys is a fucking liar! Anyway, as we sat down to enjoy a nice dinner with a single, childless friend (I’m really surprised she’s still our friend), my daughter takes it upon herself to squat down between the ottoman and the couch and drop a couple nugs, thinking no one would notice. At first, she was right. We went about our grown up business and were none the wiser. That is until I noticed my 10-month old using her turds as soccer balls. Oh, and the smell the shit. Needless to say, each child was immediately bathed in bleach (not really), and the entire house underwent a Lysol exorcism. I need an old priest and a young priest!!
Exhibit B: A friend of mine has 3 little boys, 3 years old and under. She’s insane. Her middle son is only a few weeks older than my daughter so we are currently in a 2 person support group for potty training moms. We just send SnapChats to each other of us drinking. Her little guy is much more “helpful” than my daughter. While she prefers a more stealthy approach, her son likes to squeeze out a meadow muffin and share it with the house. That’s right. He crapped on the floor in the basement, picked it up, carried it up the stairs, dropped in on the floor of his bedroom, with a healthy plop I’m sure, then hollers down the hall, “Mommy! I made a poop. Come change me!” Silver lining: he didn’t smear it all over the wall. So, that’s a win.
Exhibit C: This one requires a little back story. If you’ve ever seen the movie The Shawshank Redemption, you will know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, Spoiler Alert, also, what the hell is wrong with you?!?! Seriously, it’s one of the greatest movies of all time. Get your shit together. Anyway, at the end of the movie, it is revealed the protagonist, Andy, has been slowly digging his way out of his cell, and collecting the pieces in his pockets and gradually dumping them in the courtyard by cutting a hole in his pockets and shaking the pieces down his pant leg. Do you see where this is going?
One day I was watching a neighbor’s potty training son. Let’s just say this kid and a rabbit have a lot in common, and I don’t mean carrots. After Tommy-gunning tiny turds in his pants, he proceeds to “Shawshank” his way up my stairs. As he is standing in front of me, I notice a black ball by his feet. I immediately run him to the bathroom, ass debris falling out of his pant leg the whole way. Thanks to his apparently GI issues, the clean up was fairly easy. That is until my germaphobic son comes upstairs with a handful of ‘marbles.” He still hasn’t stopped washing his hands.
When you have this much shit in your house, there are bound to be poo particles everywhere. It would be a miracle if everyone made it out pink eye free. So, the next time you go to a 2-year-old’s birthday party, don’t waste your money at Toys-R-Us. Instead, might I suggest a Stanley Steamer gift card.