The Story Of An Embarrassing Morning When I Had To Carry THIS Around...
I did not want to do it.
I wouldn't have done it, except I was desperate. Before I go any further, let me just say that this post may be a little...stinky. It's not because I'm going to be sharing a dirty diaper story with you or anything. This is not a dirty diaper kind of blog. This blog is more of an embarrassing story kind of blog and this time it just happens to get stinky.
Why, you ask?
Well, let's just say there was a stomach bug going around at our house. Those are the worst kinds of bugs. If I could, I'd hit them all with fly swatters and be done with it.
I'm pretty sure that "stomach bug" refers to a virus, right? See, that's where things got a little confusing for me. I wasn't sure if what we all had was a virus or something of the infected-lettuce variety.
"It's got to be a virus. We all have it. It's a virus," I told my husband.
"No, not necessarily. It could be something we all ate."
"Well, if it was food poisoning, don't you think it would have been done and over with by now? Little dude has been shootin' it out the back end for 10 days!"
"It could still be something we ate."
My husband then went on to educate me about Giardia and how there was an issue with this when he spent a summer in Yosemite while he was in college. (That summer in Yosemite has made my husband an expert on all sorts of things. Don't even get him started. For example, he thinks he's a real pro bed sheet putter onner, but do you think he makes our bed? Nopenopenopenopenope.)
So, I took my son in to the doctor. I actually took him into the doctor before this bug got himself a bowl of popcorn and sat right in our insides. At the time, it was camping out just at the little dude's.
The doctor said it was likely a virus, but she gave me a plastic bowl to situate on top of the toilet and a piece of paper to take to the lab when I, ahem, had collected the (I'm sorry, I'm going to have to just blurt it out) stool.
AHHHHHH!!! That WORD!!!!
"Soooo," I began as I gave her a squinched up face kind of look, "I just collect it in this thing and then carry it in here to the lab when we're done?"
"No, no. Haha. No, you collect it when you get home and bring it back in a ziploc bag."
"Ew. Okay." I wasn't all that worried about it, though. This bug was going to high-tail it out of our house soon anyway and I wouldn't have to worry about telling my son to aim his hind-end right into the bowl.
But, then a day passed.
Aaaaannnd....the bug jimmied all the locks and got into all of our houses, if you know what I mean.
A real bug thug.
"Okay, dude, I'm sorry, but you are going to have to situate that mess into this plastic thing the next time you go."
"Noooo!!! I don't want to do that, Mom!"
"I know. I know. Believe me, I wish we didn't have to do this either, but we have got to figure out what is going on."
The next thing you know, I'm outside in the grass with latex gloves, Ziploc bags, grocery bags and a new brown friend. I said a little prayer that my snobby neighbor wouldn't walk outside at that moment. ("Oh, hey! Yeah, nothing much going on here! Just playing with poop! Hahaha!!! Okay. Well, you have a good day!" wouldn't have gone over well.)
Once I was done with my doo-dooty, I bagged that crap up and plopped it near the outside door. I made sure I had the lab paper in my purse. I was all ready to go. That lab was getting a present from our house bright and early the next morning.
"OH, NO. YUCK. I CAN'T CARRY THIS IN MY CAR!" I told my husband the next morning. "SMELL IT."
"No, I'm not smelling that. Don't you think I know what that smells like? Why did you leave it outside? You should have put it in a cooler."
"A cooler? You would've never let me live that one down. 'You put poop in the cooler where we put DRINKS?!' you'd say. You know you would."
"You're probably right."
On the way to lab, Howdy Doody sat in the front seat with me. Before he knew what hit him, he was flying through the air toward the back of the SUV. I couldn't have Howdy Doody in the front seat with me anymore. Howdy had body odor bad.
How in the world was I going to make it into the inside of a doctor's office with a hot Howdy in a bag? People would sucker punch me the moment our paths crossed, I just knew it! The only relief I could imagine was that a nice lady would collect Howdy as soon as I plunged through the door, collect Howdy before promptly fainting and I would run out the door to make my escape, anyway.
(That line was a reference to a line in The Wedding Singer, one of my favorite movies ever.)
The worst part of walking into a nice clinic with coordinating floors, chairs, decoration and dressed employees was that there was no way I could separate myself from Howdy. I couldn't tell Howdy to "go sit over there" while we waited in line. Everyone would link Howdy and me together and there was nothing I could do about it. Howdy can't walk! Howdy has to be carried all over the STINKIN' place like a toddler!
My fingers were crossed for a really short line when I walked into the lobby.
And it was a short line. YAY!
"Ummm...yes, I have this, ahem, sample that I need to drop off at the lab," I let out in a semi-loud whisper.
"Ma'am, you are going to have to go over there and get in that line and then you can come back here when she gives you your buzzer," she lets out like she's the head cheerleader of Take Your Poop Bag Over There University.
(More like BUZZARD, instead of buzzer, amirite? Buzzards and stinky stuff go hand and hand. Buzzards and Howdy are, like, super tight.)
So, like the head cheerleader directed, Howdy and I walked over to the other line. I tried to hold Howdy away from me, but it was like he didn't want me to forget him. Every now and then, he'd eject a really pungent puff of air on purpose. I mean, honestly, Howdy was being a real butt wad.
I quickly told the lady what I needed while holding Howdy away from me. I wanted so badly for her to think I was just holding my sack lunch.
"Got yourself a poop sandwich for lunch or what, lady? GO DIE!" I know that is what she was thinking.
She gave me my buzzard, I mean, buzzer and we made our way back over to the first lady. The first lady said that I would need to wait in the waiting room for my buzzer to sound, like I could really do that!!
Case in point?
When I turned with my buzzer in one hand and Howdy in another, I saw an old man hold up a sign that said "YOU AIN'T SITTIN' HERE, SISTER!!"
I knew it was a bad move to sit in those rows of chairs, anyway. The people that were there were obviously sick. The last thing they needed was a whiff of Howdy. One whiff of him would've sent them back to the ER and would've made their pacemakers go all willy-nilly.
So, Howdy and I went and stood outside. The best place for Howdy was definitely outside, anyway. He just loves it out there. While I was in the middle of scolding Howdy for putting me in this mess, my buzzard went haywire.
"Hi, ma'am. I'm so glad to finally get to give you this," I said with a half-smile as I protruded my arm holding a plastic grocery bag with Howdy swaying back and forth under my fist.
"Oh, nooooo, ma'am. I don't take that from you. You are going to have to scoop some of that into these three vials," she calmly said as she produced three plastic containers, rubber gloves, two plastic bags and two paper bags. "Each lid of the vial comes with a special scooper. You want to scoop enough [Howdy] into these vials so that the water level comes to this line. Now, some people plop a rabbit pellet in there and the rabbit pellet reaches the line. That ain't gonna work. The water level needs to reach that line."
"Why didn't I get to take those vials home so I wouldn't have to carry THIS around with me all morning?" I stared at Howdy with a menacing look.
"They were supposed to tell you to come to get the vials before you left the clinic that day."
"No, they said dump it all in a Ziploc bag and bring it up to you."
"Ha. Oh, no, ma'am, that ain't how it work."
"Okay. Well, I'm going to go ruin some more lives. I'll be back in a minute with the full vials."
I hated Howdy more than ever at that point as I walked away from Ms. CSI to the very unfortunate bathroom.
Howdy and I found a bathroom where I created an impromptu work space. It was like I was a traveling magician with all sorts of tricks in my bag, only my bag contained hot Howdy that would make you curse the day you were born.
I didn't think it was possible, buy Howdy got a gabillion times worse when I had to open up the bag and get to scoopin'.
The whole experience was even worse than I thought because, as I stood up and looked in the mirror, I saw Fire Marshall Kelley staring back at me. Howdy had taken a toll on my eyebrows.
"Okay, here it is, ma'am. I put it all in the vials and have it all re-packaged like you told me. The only thing is," I said as I lowered my voice and clutched the trash bag in my other hand, "I have got to throw this mess in this trash bag into a dumpster. I just must. I cannot leave it in there. Everyone who walks through that door will fall over and die immediately. I do not think you want people falling over left and right back there. Please tell me where your dumpster is and I will fling this in there immediately. Please. Pretty please."
"Girl, you crazy," the first lady said laughing. "Go put that back in there! You know how many people destroy that bathroom every day?"
"I can't do that to people. Please let me go throw it away."
(Guess who won't ever go in that bathroom again? No, not Howdy! Howdy loves it! Me. I won't.)
"Girl, go put it back. For real. I will call housekeeping right now, if you want."
"Please, please do."
That was the last time I saw Howdy when I ran back down the hall way and flung his sorry behind into the corner, spun on my heels and high-tailed it out of there. I heard him yell something as I turned the corner, but I can't be sure what it was exactly. It sounded sort of like, "YOU AIN'T BETTER THAN ME!"
When I finally made my way out of the parking lot on two tires, I saw that sign-holding man from before drive past me. As he did, he held a sign up that said "FALL OFF THE EARTH!"
Pretty sure Howdy ruined that guy's day, too.
(Sign holding guy isn't a real person. I made him up. I know some of you needed me to tell you that.)