Repayment for a friend

Let me begin this post by saying that I would like for you to do me a favor: Go to the fashion and modesty blog Betty Beguiles right now, subscribe to the feed, leave 10 comments saying what a fantastic site it is, make it your home page, email everyone you know and tell them to stop what they are doing and read the entire archives, and solemnly vow to read it every day for rest of your life.

Never has there been a better blog. Betty (a.k.a. Hallie Lord) pens odes to cute dresses as if from the mouths of the angels themselves; her sagacious date night tips contain such potent wisdom that the Gosselins would still be together if they’d only seen them; she shares insights into modesty that will knock you off of your chair and leave you motionless on the floor, stunned by the profundity of what you just read. If Shakespeare could read her blog he would weep bitter tears at his impotency in the face of such prose!

Now that I have said that, let me tell you about my day:

On what may seem like an unrelated topic but I assure you has an ominous connection to what I said above, yesterday I read this post by Megan at Sorta Crunchy about how her toddler pooped on the floor at the library. “Hah!” I chuckled. “What a terrible story. I’m sure glad I’m not in her shoes today!”

I was about to move on what I saw a comment from Sarah at This Heavenly Life in which she wrote:

I tried not to laugh, for fear of bringing down the wrath of the poop-fates upon myself. Oh dear.

Immediately I realized what I had done. It’s like in that movie The Ring where after you see the video you know it’s only a matter of time until freakishly terrible things start happening to you. I had laughed at another mother’s poop-related misfortune. My time was nigh.

For a while, things seemed to be fine. With our Kidsave child arriving tomorrow I was completely focused on getting everything ready for her visit; even though my husband and I had hired a professional housecleaner to help us with the basics there was still plenty of decluttering, deep cleaning and organizing to do, and I wasn’t sure how I could get it all done.

My friend Betty Beguiles told me that her husband had the day off and offered to have him watch their four young children so that she could come over by herself and help me get ready. I started to give my usual knee-jerk “No, I couldn’t possibly…” reaction, but I remembered that I’m trying to work on accepting the help that God sends me so I said a reluctant yes. “Besides,” I thought presciently, “Letting someone else help me organize my messy house will be a good lesson in humility.”

Little. Did. I. Know.

I had been cleaning my office while Betty was on her hands and knees getting some spots out of the upstairs carpet when I thought I heard some noise from the room where my two middle girls were supposed to be napping. I crept upstairs and listened at the door; all was quiet. I was about to head back downstairs when I caught a whiff of something foul. Following the parenting axiom that “If you think you might have smelled poop, YOU DID,” I decided to push the door open to take a quick glance inside the room.

I was not prepared for what I saw.

Imagine, if you will, that someone hooked up a fire hose to a septic tank and sprayed it around a room on full throttle for a moment. That gives you an idea of what awaited me when I walked into my daughters’ room. My 21-month-old has had a penchant for taking off her diaper for a long time with no serious results, so I guess I thought I could keep playing the odds until she was potty trained. Today she hit the jackpot. She had taken off a messy diaper and had evidently engaged in some Montessori-style play with its contents. It was everywhere: on the crib, on the pillow, on all the toys, ground into stuffed animal fur, smeared into the sheets and pillow — some had even fallen down onto the freshly-vacuumed carpet.

I was in shock. My daughter looked at me and giggled, happy as a pig in…well, you know. I kept starting for her crib then stopping. I didn’t know which horrific aspect of this situation to deal with first. I couldn’t open the window because of safety locks and the smell just kept getting worse. I thought I was going to throw up. Just when I’d decided that the best course of action would be to curl up in the corner and cry until my husband got home from work, Betty walked in behind me and immediately took over. She told me to wrap my daughter up in a blanket to transport her to the bathtub without getting the mess all over me. I walked zombie-style into the bathroom, wishing I had a hazmat suit as I peeled off her clothes and plopped them directly into the trash can. I sat in there for a while, cleaning my daughter in a daze as I tried not to look at the wash cloth or think of adjectives to describe the texture of the water.

Finally I got her out of the bath and dragged myself back into her room to attack the feces apocalypse that awaited me. I tried to think of something I would rather do less than this task; I came up empty. I pushed the door open, lifted my eyes to her crib, and saw that it was clean. Spotless. As if it had never happened. My friend Betty had taken a break from scrubbing my carpet on her hands and knees to clean every last smear of poop out of my child’s room.

What could a person ever do to repay that kind of generosity?

If I were rich I would have just started pressing $100 bills into her hand, perhaps signing her up for some kind of Lexus of the Month Club. But, alas, I don’t have the means to compensate her financially for her heroic waste removal services. Finally, after thinking of everything from offering to babysit her children every weekend evening for the next five years to tattooing her name on my back to show her how very serious I was when I said I appreciated what she’d done, I recalled that she is a fellow internet nerd, and I thought of something she might like: A link to her blog. So I will just come clean and tell you that the entire purpose of this 1,100-word post about poop is to tell you to go visit my friend Betty Beguile‘s blog.

RELATED

Normally I try to include an image related to the subject of my post. Notice that I didn’t this time. You’re welcome.

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Enter the Conversation...

67 Responses to “Repayment for a friend”
  1. Megan@SortaCrunchy says:

    OH JENNIFER!!!! OH NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

    Oh, if only I could catch my breath from the laughing, I would tell you that I am SO SORRY to have invited the wrath of the poop-fates onto you. Oh. Oh no. Oh, I am just. so. sorry.

    And that Betty? WOW, what a friend. She deserves a gazillion new followers and accolades out the ears for that act of friendship.

    Actually, there is a pretty poignant spiritual message here. Sin makes a big, stinky mess in a little corner of our life and we don't even realize it's happening. When our eyes are opened to it, we just sit there stunned and overwhelmed while Christ comes in and, well, cleans up our poop. What was once poop brown, I mean, scarlet is now white as snow.

    Or something like that.

    Once again, wow. I am so, so sorry.

  2. Claire says:

    Oh, oh oh. I know this one very well.
    While I was in my first trimester (and quite ill) with my third child, my eldest was 2 years + 3 months. I remember exactly because almost every single day for the next 3 months she did something horrific with her poo during "naptime". I would curl up on the little toddler sized mattress in her room to keep watch, but I would always end up falling asleep, exhausted from keeping up with her, my 4 month-old and this new growing baby. Despite my best intentions to stay awake, I would inevitably drift off, only to wake up to some new creative poo decor.
    I tried everything. I duct-taped her diaper to her, but she reached under. I put her in overalls (and duct-taped them), but she still found a way. Finally, I decided that a toddler-sized wetsuit was the only way to go. Nothing helped. I thanked the good Lord for the days when she would get bored of playing with poo and instead just opted to pull every single thing out of her dresser drawers, closets, bookshelves and make a mountain of them on the floor. Now THAT I could handle.
    Then one day, she just magically stopped playing with feces and she has never done it since.
    My aunt tells me that I am lucky that for all her shenanigans, she never succeeeded in spreading it UNDER the closet door and the door to her room, where it would have dusted the carpet every time you opened a door. Guess my cousin somehow miraculously managed that one.
    Hang in there. Lots of mommy bragging rights for this stuff.

  3. Kentucky Packrat says:

    Even when he's mailing it in, Eddie Murphy can be hilarious.

    In Daddy Day Care, one of the kids comes out of the bathroom and says "I missed". Eddie looks at the floor in abject horror, and then the wall, and then the ceiling.

    Just like you can't get Elizabethtown unless you have a country family, you can't get that scene unless you've had a kid with potty training "incidents".

  4. Pharmgirl says:

    Oh, Jen you poor thing!!! You must be traumatized!

    And hats off to Betty, who truly went above and beyond the call of duty! Of course I'll visit her blog!

  5. sara says:

    I need friends like that.

  6. Amy @ Finer Things says:

    I discovered Betty's blog many months ago. Immediately subscribed AND added her to my blogroll. She's a gem!… and now I really want her to be my neighbor! :)

  7. Sara says:

    What a wonderful friend! I can't wait to visit her!

  8. Anonymous says:

    I read this post and laughed. Forty-five minutes later my wife called met at work….and our two year old had begun his morning by recreating the scene described in the post…beware the poop-fates.

  9. Christine says:

    I called my husband this morning to complain about my toddler getting poop all over a laundry basket, himself, and several patches of carpet, all before I woke up. My husband laughed and directed me to your site, since he was reading and laughing at your post while my toddler was smearing poop everywhere. I'm wishing the poop fates were a little fairer and did it when he was home.

  10. Sarah Reinhard says:

    I'm trying.
    not.
    to.
    laugh.

    And failing.

    So I guess I'll have a poop story of my own, huh?

    I'm so glad Betty was there to help you. I've been lovin her blog for some time, and everything you said is so true, even minus the repayment for her services.

    I wonder if she makes house calls to Ohio? :)

  11. Melanie B says:

    There but for the grace of God….
    I almost had a great poopy disaster the other day. Sophie, who had been roaming bout in diaper and t-shirt, put a dirty diaper in my hand. Fortunately, I don't think she'd spread it anywhere. Now to avert another incident, I'm making sure she's wearing pants cause she hasn't figured out how to take them off yet.

    I already loved Betty and considered her a great friend, now I know what a treasure she really is! Oh I wish we lived near you guys so I could visit with both of you more often.

  12. elizabethe says:

    This is story IS tempting the poop fates. I'm staying with my in-laws right now. I just read your post and my own two and a half year old had a poop incident not five minutes later. I won't go into details, suffice to say it involved poop smeared all over the entryway floor. Thank goodness it's tile and not carpet.

    Betty Beguiles is duly bookmarked. It's a great website and one I really need right now as I'm falling into post-pregnancy frump.

  13. Angie Ledbetter says:

    Oh, my! I feel for ya. Kinda makes me glad mine are 17, 18 & 19…except sometimes the poop puddles are even bigger ones not so easily cleaned up. :)

    For the life of me, I can't find a Follow widget!

  14. Megan says:

    I'm laughing hysterically, but oh my word, am I scared that would happen to me. And Betty ROCKS.

  15. Betty Beguiles says:

    Aw, thanks. You are so funny! If I were of the scrapbooking persuasion this would definitely be included to ensure that we never forget the good times. ;) Not sure how I would decorate that page though…

  16. Pam Elmore says:

    Your description of Betty Beguiles made me click through — and I'm so glad I did!

    Any site that uses the word "moxie" in its description is worth my eyeballs!

    Now to read the rest of your post.

  17. Michelle Marciniak says:

    I laughed but none of mine are still in diapers. Do you think I am safe? Still, perhaps I should keep my four year old who is going through a tomboyish destructive phase under my watchful eye today. What a great post!

  18. Pam Elmore says:

    Oh, I tried not to laugh, but to no avail… especially when I hit the phrase "feces apocolypse."

    Though I am long past the diapering era for my own offspring, doubtless my laughter has invited the poop-fates to visit me in the church nursery…

    In the meantime, I'm going to try to work "feces apocolypse" into daily conversation.

  19. Christine the Soccer Mom says:

    I don't suppose that just because mine are ten and (on the seventh) 8, I will be immune from the poop fates?

    I'm sure that one of them will wind up eating something that disagrees and then… I'll get my just desserts for laughing so hard at this post.

    Sorry, Jen, and congratulations AGAIN for making This Rock Magazine. I swear, I'll read it on vacation.

  20. Joy of Frugal Living says:

    Poor poor you! How lucky to have such a friend though.

    Too funny reading this while (hopefully) at last having some contractions that might go somewhere. Poop is in my future, no doubt. ;)

  21. Eliz says:

    Done. Betty is now not only my home page but I've changed each and every one of my passwords to bettyrocks. Seriously, that is a friend! And some very funny writing.

    I can't wait to hear how things go with your summer visitor. I'll be praying for you all that you and your family have a wonderful time with her and that she gets closer to finding the love and stability of a family.

  22. Christine says:

    Wow, I will visit her blog right away. And let me say that I am very aware of poop issues. The most recent was over Christmas break when 3 out of my 4 children (2 in diapers) got the rotavirus. It lasted a total of 12 days. Diarrhea was everywhere all of the time. I finally got it myself on Christmas Eve. And let me tell you that getting it myself was much better than cleaning up after it for a week and a half.

  23. Jennifer Merck says:

    I'm crying . . . what a blessing to have a friend who is willing to literally help you clean up the crap in your life.

  24. Anne says:

    Oh dear. I will definitely visit her page. :

  25. truthfinder says:

    Hope it's safe for me to laugh. All of my (adult) children — and grandchildren — live hundreds of miles away. Makes me wonder what YaYa would have done.Closest I've come is when our first baby had projectile diarrhea. Hope this is the worst thing you ever encounter for the rest of your life. P.S.- Heard the rattlesnakes were moving into yards and houses because of drought in Texas. :( What about scorpions? ;) Rosemary

  26. Rebecca says:

    Oh no! Yeeeesh – so glad you have such a good friend.

    I've already become a follower of Betty's blog and came back to comment to let you know – on to read more from Betty :).

  27. This Heavenly Life says:

    I swear I posted a comment early this morning, but I can't find it here…? Oh well, I just had to say thanks for the link! I'm glad poop-fates is now a household word around here :)

    Betty deserves a big chocolate cake for that effort – or maybe another flavor would be better? Wouldn't want her cleaning any more brown stains :D

  28. JoAnna says:

    I did NOT laugh.

    Do you hear me, poop fates?? I did NOT laugh!

    Betty is a gem.

  29. Ginkgo100 says:

    Ooohhh, groan… I've been there. Yes, I have. Almost the EXACT SAME THING happened to me.

    My son also used to have a penchant for taking off his diaper. We started TAPING it on with heavy duty masking tape every time we put him to bed (including naps).

    I had been rekindling an old high school friendship that had lapsed, seeing my friend about once a week—usually at my place, since we were both too broke to go out to eat much. Meanwhile, we had just put our house on the market, and were making Herculean efforts to keep it spotless. I am THE world's worst housekeeper, which is why I referred to the gods when describing how hard it was.

    I can't remember why my son's diaper wasn't taped on that day. I probably just forgot.

    My friend and I were in the living room, talking about the touch-up painting we had done and how the house actually looked better than it had when we moved in. We were right below the heating vent (it was winter). And we smelled something funny. Actually, it was more nasty than funny.

    We looked at each other, wondering how the smell of a dirty diaper could be coming from the heating vent. So I went up to check on my son.

    It looked EXACTLY as you described, with one exception: the carpet was not spared. At all. The smell was like a living being, so powerful it was able to reach its horrid tentacles through our entire ventilation system.

    I was beside myself. This was the last time I would see my friend before we moved. And what would she remember? The Room From Sewage Hell.

    God bless the Clorox company for its moist disinfecting wipes. God bless the local grocery store for having rentable carpet cleaners. God bless my poor friend, who instead of beating it out the door (for which I would not have blamed her ONE BIT), started cleaning up while I bathed the boy.

    We had to tell the realtor we couldn't handle a showing that evening, in case one came in, and we did actually get the room clean. You'd never know. Didn't help us sell the house, though; that took a full year. But that's another story.

    (By the way, Jen, I'm glad I could help with the Spanish. You should follow me on Twitter; then I could send you DMs!)

  30. CKHB says:

    BWAhahahahaha!!!!

    I will now visit her blog, because she as earned it, and because I have a two-year-old, and I also fear the wrath of the poop-fates.

  31. Melissa Stover says:

    "feces apocalypse" strangely the most hilarious phrase i've read all week.

  32. The Bookworm says:

    I absolutely will visit her blog. Heroism of that magnitude more than deserves it! Divide and conquer is the only answer to poop and vomit disasters in my experience. I'm ashamed to say I once sent an older child for my neighbour to help with a vomit catastrophe – she bathed the child while I stripped off my vomit laden clothes and cleaned up. In my defence, she is said vomiter's godmother … though she didn't know exactly what duties she was signing up for ;).

  33. Kris says:

    Oh. My. Goodness. That is on the Top Ten list of the funniest things I have ever read. (And, I can laugh, I think, because it's *already* happened to me.)

    Betty deserves some kind of medal of honor because, had it been ME at your house, it would have been at that very moment that I suddenly remembered some urgent, pressing SOMETHING that I had to leave and take care of immediately. What a friend Betty must be.

    And, thank you for not sharing pictures this time.

  34. ED says:

    I'm glad I visited her blog before you told us that story – I went in without knowing her wonderful nature, and was pleasantly surprised by the parts of it she reveals in the few articles I've skimmed so far. Your friend is truly a real gem.

    And the poop story has to be the #1 story I've heard yet for poop. You'll be glad to have it . . . in 10 years or so, though, maybe!

  35. Julia says:

    Wow!! I'm checking out Betty's blog, and she's getting prayers from me for being such a wonderful friend!

  36. mrsdarwin says:

    I've already had my poop incident for the day (and at someone else's house, natch) so I feel free to laugh my fill. Betty, you're the best!

  37. principii says:

    How do I even start to describe what happened to us today… AHEM!

    So, I read your post this morning, and believe-you-me, it made my morning (if not my day)! I chortled quite gleefully, not believing in the poop-fates one jot. No sir, not I!

    Well, hubby came home, and in the midst of talking about our day, I told him about your post (yes, I did)… I went inside to start dinner, at which point, my dear and darling toddler…

    pooped, filled, and overflowed her pants.

    Right in front of my husband.

    NOT TWO MINUTES AFTER I FINISHED RELAYING YOUR STORY!

    I am a convert of a different ilk. No longer will I laugh in the face of the poop-fates.

    I too, believe.

    :)

  38. Emily says:

    I have several reactions to this post:

    1. OH, DEAR. That's just awful and embarrassing and hilarious all at once.

    2. Betty is a great friend, and I like her blog. *follows*

    3. Big, big kudos to you for including a reference to one of my favorite movies (The Ring) in this post.

    4. I hope Rita arrived safely and is settling in comfortably :-D

  39. Dawn says:

    I will subscribe to her feed for sure. What a wonderful woman!

  40. Butterfly Momma says:

    I honestly can't believe this … I was telling my husband about this story last night when we were driving as a family and both agreed how incredibly horrible it would be (Honestly – neither of us laughed – we could imagine it happening to us!!). As we are driving back home, through the country, I thought I could smell something rather strong and just assumed that the farmers had sprayed their fields recently with you-know-what. Anyway – as we approached home I told my husband that I had to go straight into the house as I had to go to the bathroom (I'm 9 months pregnant and had a little lad dancing on my bladder!!!). Just as I get into the house I hear my husband yelling for me … you guessed it … my little boy had had an explosive diarreha (sp?) attack in the car and it was all over him and all over the carseat. To think I blamed those poor farmers for the smell!! :) So, not anywhere near as bad as your story, but sooooo weird that it happened the same night that I told my husband this story … no more storytelling for me!! :) Trust you will have a truly blessed weekend!

  41. erinmlee says:

    Oh, I laughed… and I cried, partly from laughing so hard and partly from the still-painful memories of the many poop disasters that have befallen me over the years. One that stands out in my mind: poop, removed from a diaper, and molded like clay all over my son's train set – arranged artfully all over the train table, smeared onto train cars, smushed onto toy street signs, squished into the grooves of train track pieces… he lost a good part of his collection to the trash that day!

    I've been reading Betty's blog for a while now, but I do have a whole new appreciation for her now!! :)

  42. Anonymous says:

    Oh, such a great story. Our oldest once treated us to just such a naptime "feces apocalypse," including walls, rug, bed linens, and a little fire truck with Mickey Mouse in it, which looked like it had competed in an off-road mud derby. G. watched me as I looked around his room in horror and fury, then lifted up the toy and said winsomely, "See my special fire truck, Mommy?"

  43. Judith says:

    Oh, how I laughed! Your poop story brings back so many memories of our 4 when they were in diapers!

    One favorite: our third, Liz, was baptized at one week of age in the much -loved,85 year old baptismal gown that both my mother and I had been baptized in. After the baptism, at our little family gathering, Liz produced her first genuine, mustard-yellow, overflowing, gigantic poop …. and turned the gown mustard yellow. I rushed her to the bathroom, peeled it off of her, and needing to tend to both her and the gown, laid her in the tub and stuffed the gown in the toilet to soak. My grandmother, long in heaven and, I hope, fogiving of all things, must have been laughing uproariously (she was a mother of 8!)

  44. alicecantrell says:

    Oh, dear.
    I laughed. (Boy did I laugh!)
    I couldn't help myself.
    I guess I'm in for it.
    My days are numbered.
    Oh well. It was worth it. :-)

  45. giarose says:

    if only the poop stories ended when they were out of diapers. my three year old ate tons of blackberies and blueberries the other day. the next morning he did his usual morning routine, pooped on the potty, put a sticker on the calendar (to remind me that he had actually pooped that day) and then he went off to his room to get dressed. A couple minutes later he came running down the hallway yelling, "i've got a junebug mommy!" When he got to me he was still naked and his legs and hands were smeared in what I thought was a very large, dead junebug (it was early, I was groggy, and I was very wrong). Berries make for a very dark, tarry poop that sort of cements itself on the floor. From the foot prints and smears, it seems that he had diarrhea, spotted the junebug across the room, there was some kind of struggle to catch it, then he ran across the house to find me. Three days later, I'm still finding remnants. ewwwwwww.

  46. 'Becca says:

    Would you prayerfully consider using real diapers, instead of the crappy (pun intended) disposable ones, at least on this child until she is trained? We used cloth diapers fastened with snaps and nylon covers, and not only was my son unable to remove his diaper by himself or reach very far into it, but he NEVER HAD A BLOWOUT or even any significant leakage!!! All your commenters seem to think these disasters are an unavoidable part of parenthood, but I think their standards for diapers are too low! I loved cloth diapers. Click my name for lots of details.

    I hope Rita arrived safely and you're having a great time together!

  47. lisa says:

    The one consolation for you is that at least it didn't happen in public. When my middle daughter was 15 months old, we had just moved to a new town, and my husband was away for the week. I took the car in to have some work done, and took the kids in the double stroller to the mall next door while we waited for it. We were in the food court when dear daughter had explosive diarrhea, all over herself, the stroller, and her 3 year old sister. I had no idea that one human could produce that much poop. With no way to leave the mall for at least 3 more hours,I wheeled them into the bathroom, and started stripping them down and trying to wash them off in the tiny sink. The smell was overpowering, and every time anyone else came in they gagged and went running out the door. After about 30 minutes, I had them as clean as was possible under the circumstances, had them both dressed in just diapers (all I had with me), and threw all their clothes away in the trash. I mopped up the counter and floor as much as I could with those cheap paper towels they always have in public bathrooms, but it was still pretty awful. I had taken the stroller apart and washed it as well as I could, and put the kids back in the now wet stroller. I looked down at myself and realized that I was also covered in poop. I wheeled them out into the mall, went into a store I came to and bought the first pair of shorts and shirt I found, payed for them while the sales girl scowled at me and held her nose, and went back to the bathroom where I changed and threw my clothes away. My only saving grace was that I didn't know anyone in the town yet, so no one knew who this smelly, poop-covered woman was.

  48. Joy says:

    I'm laughing WITH you in memory of some major feces fiascos, which I shall not recount in the face of so many other great stories. My current poop stories are of the canine kind, though I have a 23-month-old boy who will be potty-training sooner than I'd like to think. And potty-training my first boy brought on the most insane poop predicaments ever. *shudder*

    Regarding keeping a diaper on, a friend of mine recommends putting a onesie on the child backwards, so the snaps are on their rear-end, where they can't reach (in theory), instead of in front. When her baby figured that one out, she began safety-pinning the onesie on backwards. Her child eventually figured out how to remove the diaper from under the onesie, but hopefully you will be more fortunate.

  49. Elizabeth says:

    Blimey oh Riley. You poor thing…

    My best advice for avoiding nappy (diaper) fiddling would be to put a wrap on top of the disposable nappy (if that's what you're using). Get one with poppers (snaps?) and do it up backwards. That'll foil her.

  50. Anonymous says:

    LOL! I think we all have a similar tale…mine dates back to 1993. I woke up in a delightful bed and breakfast in Maine, sun shining, homemade blueberry muffins waiting downstairs. Hmm. Didn't smell like blueberry muffins. I sat up in bed next to snoring hubby to see my two year old son sitting in what had been a clean portable crib the night before (when the lovely owner of the b and b had set it up for us). And the boy was smiling, with poop everywhere, even in his hair. By the way, my mother, who used cloth diapers on my brother back in the late fifties, has a similar story to tell. Maybe cloth diapers are difficult to remove, but little hands can still find a way into them, and use the contents to paint the walls of a room.

  51. Therese Z says:

    I am not squeamish, I can handle poop and scorpions and mooshy dead things. I contribute my girly part to the proceedings by weeping through every step of cleaning/removal/vanquishing process.

    My friends and family have found me an unnerving super-hero, crying while killing the big old whatever.

  52. Mike Chemel says:

    Hi Jen,
    Just once? How did you get so lucky? For a while it seems my first daughter ‘painted’ her walls at least once a week. And BTW, even after twenty + years, when I think of it I can still smell it. I don’t think of it often.
    TTFN
    Mike

  53. Michelle says:

    I’m going to go read her blog first and come back here before I can be able to write what’s on my mind. I’ll try not to laugh till I’m back !

  54. Elizabeth Duncan says:

    All right, it has been nearly 5 YEARS since this original post, and I am here to tell you that the poop-fates are still strong. I smiled and shrugged off this post when I first read it this morning. Poop-fates, ha! Sure, okay.

    I HAVE PAID. Not even 6 hours later, I was innocently walking into my office building when I noticed something was stuck to my shoe. I looked down. Oh, a leaf! No biggie. So I peeled off the leaf and realized it was adhered with… POOP! Some horribly foul form of animal poop that was encrusted with fur, and now smeared all over my fingers!!!!!!

    I didn’t even have the benefit of it being my OWN kid’s poop! It was so disgusting. I threw out the shoe. One half of me is now barefoot and I BELIEVE!!!!

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  1. [...] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Jennifer Fulwiler, Nick Pisciotti. Nick Pisciotti said: Don't tempt poop-fate moms and dads. Read this but do not laugh about it or YOU'RE next! (via @conversiondiary) http://j.mp/e6uAI8 [...]

  2. [...] (If you would like to read of another time I sent Hallie blog traffic as the only possible way to repay her for a horrible situation that I foisted upon her, you can read all about that here.) [...]

  3. [...] how horrified I am by this. (Jen-just let me know if you are ever fall victim to the wrath of the “Poop-Fates” again. I’m your gal.) I have no idea how these rats went sight unseen and unheard for so long. Or [...]

  4. [...] blog could I read in 2012 that will avoid the topic of the election entirely and focus on God and poop fates and scorpions instead?”, drop everything, subscribe to my RSS feed, and prepare yourself to [...]

  5. [...] my two-year-old had had an accident before she got out of bed. Though it was nothing close to the wrath of the poop fates, there was still quite a mess to clean up. I am not a morning person to begin with, so dealing with [...]

  6. [...]  I love much of what Jen at Conversion Diary has done, but her poop fates posts crack me up.  Or at least they did, until I remembered that I’m a pet owner.  See, [...]

  7. [...] know, we’re not supposed to be superstitious. But, in my defense, I have witnessed firsthand the power of the poop fates, and I did have a scorpion on my couch within 12 hours of writing that I hadn’t seen one in [...]

  8. [...] ALIVE). Depending on the whims of the Insurance Fates, which are even more temperamental than the poop fates, we may end up spending more than our mortgage payment each month to get Lovenox to treat my [...]

  9. [...] is nothing I could have done to call down the ire of the Puke Fates (the delinquent cousins of the Poop Fates) that I did not already [...]

  10. [...] sure I’m tempting the Lent Fates, if there is such a thing (perhaps distant cousins of the Poop Fates?). Even so, I’m going to enjoy the reading I’m doing (I suspect I’ll polish off [...]

  11. [...] with you than you could ever hope to read. If you’re a Conversion Diary reader, you may remember Jen’s Poop Fates. Well, maybe I called down the Vomit Fates with my “My babies hardly ever spit up!” comments [...]

  12. […] seven days. Hate myself for my lack of foresight and self-knowledge. Wonder what I did to anger the Schedule Fates that I found out about the Chicago trip only after I told the internet I would post every […]