A Shitty Story

shitty tale mum revised

We bought our cottage in 2008. We were spending as much time there as we could but we had some construction going on during the week we were not there to witness. No doubt, it disturbed our neighbour who was there for the whole summer. That’s just to set the stage.

When our neighbour came over to meet us one weekend, they informed us that the dead tree we had felled was, in fact, on their property. We offered them all the wood and an apology. It was leaning right over their outhouse, so we saved them a possible insurance claim and a really crappy mess (or so we thought). We had a good discussion about property lines and we were surprised to find out that what we thought was our property was theirs. No harm. We stayed away.

Fast forward and we were thinking of putting a bunkie on our lot. We contracted a surveyor and discovered that the section of property we had discussed was ours. So was the tree we felled and so was their outhouse. We talked about what to do as it was their only means of ‘exit’. They were in the process of building a new cottage with indoor plumbing and we said they could continue using their little poop house as long as they needed. They promptly got a port-o-potty and we never discussed it again.

Since, we have done nothing with our small smelly home. Until last weekend.

We had company in the cottage and only one toilet. I was feeling less than fabulous but our guest needed to put in her contacts. I let her use the facilities first thinking it would be quick and I would avoid stinking her out (even with the Poo-Pourri, I suspected the worst). I think she was changing her eyeballs out for new ones using a serving spoon and toothpicks because it was taking FOREVER. I was squirming, strategizing, sweating and finally had to find a box of tissues and decide to shit beside the bear in the woods or take refuge in our wooden poo home.

I chose the latter.

This facility had not been maintained in the 7 years we have ‘owned’ it. The roof is patchy, the door flies open allowing the elements inside. I thought of nothing but the sweet release. I opened the door and lifted the seat. Everything seemed in order except the outside was now inside with leaves and debris all over but there were no bears so I sat and simultaneously let go of what I had been holding inside. The other thing that let go was the seat. It proceeded to partway fall into the now rotten wooden support under the weight of my body. That’s right. I fell into a shitter.

As I grabbed the sides of the building for support, the door flew open leaving me in a particularly vulnerable position.

I was thinking that I would really like to get out of there, but my bowels were so happy, it was hard to remove myself from the situation. So there I sat/crouched/leaned and prayed. I laughed and cried and thought of the children. I was ready to meet my crappy end and found the irony in the shituation.

God and my bowels smiled and with a great deal of core strength, I freed myself just in time for me to feel the building shift once again. Good thing too as no one knew I was there because ‘Hey girlfriend, I just have to shit my pants in the outdoor toilet,’ was never uttered.

I have lived to tell the tale and prove, once again, that this shit really just happens to me.

What did you learn from my story? Shit and get off the pot is too easy. Make me laugh. It’s been a crappy week.


Comments

  1. I got nothing. Except a belly laugh. So there’s that. How about, “It all came out in the end?” But you’re right, it seems to only happen to you. I hope you pulled that rickety crapper down once & for all! It would be a good start for a compost heap.

  2. Leave the shituation room to Wolf Blitzer? That the therapy you were doing for your nether region seems to have paid off? You should be proud of your core strength as well. Were you at all comforted by the fact that you’d be getting a great blog post out of this during your ordeal or were you too distracted by trying not to fall in?

  3. Hahaha….That is a real shitty story. You win, hands down for the shittiest story. But…it still made me giggle as I try to imagine you in that awkward position and the sweet relief at the same time.

  4. hey woman, love your shitty story! I was thinking about you because my girlfriend Grace Kohn wrote a book about dealing with her autistic daughter Julianne and in it it deals a lot with shit! her tag line is shit happens then shift happens. since your blog is there for humour and to help us mum get through our days, you might want to check it out and see whether there might be some material in there for you. Yes, you might think I am shameless peddling my friend’s book but I honestly think there might be something for you too. the book is only $3.99 for the kindle version. I will buy you a coffee if you just think it was a waste of your $3.99!

  5. There’s a saying that genius is being able to fall through a hole in the privy and come out smelling like a rose. Well, it may have been some time before you could smell like a rose but the important thing is you had ample fertilizer for a story, even if you did have to be the butt of the joke.
    Christopher recently posted…The Kindness of Strangers.My Profile

  6. I’m sorry to hear you had an accident, but at least you didn’t have an “accident.” I’m not sure what I learned from your story except to be very, very careful if I ever see a boiled egg on a toothpick..
    Bun Karyudo recently posted…Bah! I Guess I’ll Have to Write a Title.My Profile

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