Group Poop

My brother-in-law is everyone’s favorite. Babies adore him, he never gets involved in family squabbles, and he’s hilarious. He’s my husband’s little brother and he does things like draw birthday cards for his niece and nephew that they carry around until their next birthdays. He laughs at my jokes (which is an outstanding personality trait) and plays with my kids. My college friends still ask about him, and moms love him. The only time he gets mad is when someone has wronged a person he cares about. Then he can be a real asshole. That just makes the rest of us love him more.

But the reason I love him most is because he doesn’t talk about that one time.

For a few years, my oldest friend was living in the same town as my in-laws. We were in town for Christmas, and my husband, his brother, and I popped in to see this friend at her apartment. This was before my husband was my husband, and my friend and my brother-in-law had met a few times. We planned on having a few beers and some laughs. 

It was a cute little place, and we were having a nice time. Some people are just easy and fun, and this tiny  apartment was crammed full of four of those folks. I was a happy girl, until my tummy started to rumble. It was churning in that “it’s not super urgent, but you’re gonna need the bathroom soon” sort of way. Since my friend only had one bathroom, and it was damn near in the living room, I decided to wait till we got back to the safety of my in-laws’ three bathroom house.
As it usually is in those one bathroom situations, my gut had a different idea than my brain. It became clear that there was absolutely no way I was making another hour, and I started doing some reasoning in my head. Taking care of business around my friend was no big deal. She already knew how disgusting I was. My brother-in-law was another story. I mean, he was cool and welcoming, but maybe he was one of those guys who didn’t think girls pooped? This was stupid of me, as he has two sisters, and is definitely aware of how we girls can annihilate a bathroom.
I made my way to the bathroom, and that’s when the severity of the situation hit me. The bathroom door was propped against the hallway. It was broken, and completely unattached to the door frame. My friend laughed and gave a halfhearted apology. That bitch didn’t even feel bad that this was going to be a group poop. No door to muffle the sound or the smell. I had no choice. What was this? A frat house? I know that some of you fellas are used to stalls with no doors, but us girls are accustomed a modicum of privacy.
They tried to ignore me, but the conversation kept faltering, and bursts of laughter hit me, much in the same way that the odor must have been hitting them. This was before we had smartphones to entertain us while dropping a deuce, so all I could do was sit there and listen to the people I love laugh at me and my rotten ass. I yelled at them to shut up, but that only made them laugh harder. They finally went outside to give me some privacy, but the damage had been done. 
I reemerged, sheepishly, and everyone acted cool, but no one looked me in the eye. I was ready to go. It smelled inside, and I was exhausted.

Attention single ladies: My brother-in-law is still up for grabs, and if I haven’t made it perfectly clear, he’ll put up with your shit.

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Comments

Group Poop — 11 Comments

  1. Hilaaaaarious. How have I not heard this before?? I probably won't have the same amount of class as our dear brother in law now that the cat is out of the bag ;)

  2. Hi, I’m Anne from Life on the Funny Farm (http://annesfunnyfarm.blogspot.com), and I’m visiting from Finding the Funny. Yeah, poop is pretty much always funny. And farts. My husband once had to take a dump sitting directly across from his bio teacher in HS. Not doors on the stalls. Men can do that shit. Us gals? Well, I can understand why there was eye contact malfunction afterwards.Anyway, thanks for sharing this awesomeness. If you ever get a chance, stop over to my blog to say hi! Have a great day…

    • Hi Anne! That story about your husband is hilarious. My kids are obsessed with poop, and while I like to blame that on my husband, I obviously need to take some of the responsibility.Thanks for stopping by! I've visited your blog before, and will definitely stop by again!

  3. You were very brave. Your tale reminded me of how I used to pretend to need something from the store and depart from a boyfriend's house to use the toilet at the shop around the corner. I really enjoyed your story, it was well written and your punch line at the end absolutely perfect. I'm here from Finding the Funny. Cheers!

  4. Pingback: I Used To Do Things. Now I Have Kids. |

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