Poopie talk

This is the gist of how last night's conversation I had with dear husband when I returned home last night from book club:

Me: Why is the cushion of darling daughter's play yard hanging on the end of the play yard?

Dear husband: She had a massive poop.

Me: How massive?

Dear husband: Pretty massive.

Me: How massive is massive?

Dear husband: Massive enough that she made a bit of a mess of the cushion.

Me: Did she have diarrhea?

Dear husband: No, just a massive poop that escaped her diaper. It was pretty solid.

Me: That's good to know.

Mind you, this conversation took place in front of a family friend who was trying to curb her laughter. I don't blame her from laughing as it isn't every day that she sees two grown adults talking about poop. Laugh now, I told her, but you'll be having entire conversations about poop one day soon.

Yep, poop is a common fixture in my life. If I'm not cleaning it off darling daughter's bottom, I'm checking to see if there is any variation in the usual colour and texture. (Hey, I don't want to get to graphic, but you have to be aware of these things, just in case you encounter illness). In the very early days of darling daughter's life, we dutifully recorded each and every bowel movement, noting the time. Did she have a wet diaper? How wet was it? How poopie was her diaper? Was it a large poop or average? Has she pooped too much? Or hasn't pooped enough? Yeah, it is hard to believe, but that's what we did for a good month. We even have a little journal dedicated to her poops and pees, as well as when she ate. I plan to present it to her when she is an adult.

While I likely still have another year before darling daughter is ready to start transitioning out of the diaper stage, poop will likely be a conversation staple for me and dear husband. Yep, who knew poop talk could be so enthralling and so darn dirty.