There’s a HUGE part of me that can’t believe I’m going to write about this story….mostly because by writing it – I have to re-live it and I’d rather wrap myself in taffy and lay on a bed of ants but also because it’s just freaking disgusting. Then again – in the past I’ve written about shaving vagizzles, vagizzle pimples and massively embarrassing sex issues too so I guess as readers, you shouldn’t be shocked.
It’s just a little story. No characters but me. I happened to be naked. I also happened to wail out a blood curdling scream or two.
Here’s the story.
I had a long day. I was tired. I decided to take a bubble bath after my kids had already taken their baths.
I pee. I undress. I get my towels out. I blare the radio. I’m about to start the water when I do a quick once-over of the tub. A few stray long hairs I had to get out and a small blackish-brownish square flat shaped thingy too.
This is where it gets sick and twisted. My first thought was that the small brown thing was a piece of a woodchip since the girls had been helping me landscape.
But then – then I decided it looked just like chocolate. And yes – the family of Draz’s has been known to partake in M&Ms and multitudes of other foods whilst bathing. Have you ever tried it? You guys think I kid when I say I bathe in Skittles and candy and such. I’m not. I mean I may never actually bathe IN them but I sure as hell bathe WITH them as I shove them into my mouth.
So I think I’ve hit the jackpot. Because what’s better after a long day than what appears to be a small piece of chocolate left behind. Just shut up with the fact that it’s a small – even teensy - piece of WET chocolate in a bathtub. Beggers can’t be choosers.
Just in case – on the off chance that I am incorrect and it’s a bug or something – I get down on my knees, naked – and kneel over into the bathtub to stick my head closer to the tub bottom to see if I can figure out what it is. (What a sight, huh?) It looks soft. Seriously – it is sooo chocolate.
To err on the side of caution I grabbed a washcloth to wipe it up. I can just as easily lose all my dignity and lick it off a washcloth as easily as I can lick it off my finger.
I wipe it up.
I get in the bath and start running the water now that all is clear.
I stare at my washcloth. Still – I’m just not sure what it is. I touch it. I smear it a bit. It’s brown. It’s soft.
Still – not sure. I mean we’re talking about a spot the size of about ¼ of an M&M without the shell. (still totally worth all this detective work)
What’s left to do but smell it?
Which I do.
HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS – IT’S PPPPOOOOOOPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!
Insert blood curdling scream. (Thank God no one was homeby this time.)
Insert me whipping the washcloth across the bathroom.
Insert me yelling – out loud – to myself in the bathroom, “What the f*ck is going on here?”
I mean can you imagine my horror and disappointment when what I thought would be a tiny piece of chocolate turned into a tiny piece of poop…the thing I hate most in this world?
No – I have no idea how a tiny miniscule piece of poop got in my tub. I don’t want to know. I want to barf just thinking about how close my nose was to poop. Non-infant poop. Real ass poop.
Apparently it’s my punishment for eating M&Ms and Mountain Dew in the bathtub.
Which by the way – I will never be able to do again without thinking of the poop washcloth incident.
Maybe I’ll start taking showers.