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where does the poop go?
Jul 28th, 2010 by micah the admin

I was fourteen years old and babysitting a toddler for a couple hours at his parents’ cabin. We had a wonderful time playing games and eating animal crackers. Right before his parents were due to return, he filled up his cloth diaper. I started to change him when I ran into a little problem: what to do with all the poop? You see, all the babies I’d previously sat for had disposable diapers. All I’d had to do was wad up the dirty diapers and toss them in the trash. I knew I couldn’t toss the cloth diaper, but I didn’t think I should put all that poop in the clothes hamper, either.

I knew the answer was right in front of me, but I had a major brain cramp. Where…did…the…poop…go? My mind froze and I panicked. The child’s parents would be arriving home any second. They must never, never know I didn’t understand this basic thing about child care, or they would laugh at me and never hire me again. After a few minutes of frantically racking my brain while the toddler ran around the kitchen, sans pants, I decided to try to think it through from another angle. “Where do we put food that we don’t want anymore?” I asked myself. “Aha! The garbage disposal!”

Feeling vaguely that it was wrong, but not knowing any other options, I emptied the diaper’s contents into the sink and, with a spoon, scooted the poop toward the drain. Feeling relieved that my ordeal was almost over, I hunted around for the garbage disposal switch. There wasn’t one; I had just clogged the drainpipe. At that instant, I had an epiphany: “The toddler’s poop goes in the toilet, you IDIOT! The same place YOUR poop goes!”

Crimson with shame at the extent of my spaciness, and mortified at what I had done, I hastily poured half a can of AJAX down the drain, and ran the water. I kept one eye on the clock, and one eye on the child as I frantically mashed down the remnants of poop that kept bobbing back up. I had just washed the spoon and scrubbed the sink for the hundredth time when the parents came home. I guiltily accepted their money and told them about our afternoon, omitting, of course, the diaper drama.

Apparently they never had any problems with their sink, because they asked me to babysit many times after that. I gladly did, being very careful from that point on to put human excrement in it’s proper receptacle.

The End.

Rachel – NH

it's pat!
Apr 14th, 2010 by micah the admin

When I was a teenager I went to a Summer camp. The first night we had a big get together where everyone could get to know each other really quickly. The staff told us to go find someone in the room who we did not know at all. We would ask them some questions and then introduce that person to the rest of the group. I was too nice sometimes. I saw this person who was sitting all alone. I had never met them, and clearly no one was going that direction, so I did. I shook hands and realized that I couldn’t tell if this was a girl or a boy. No problem…they had to have a name. I asked. The response: some made up name of gender neutral syllables. Oh no. The voice was even kinda ambiguously monotone. I was getting really nervous. I had to present the person to the room, but how do you do that without gender specific pronouns? I pressed in with my awesome problem solving skills. I needed gender specific questions. I tried asking things about hobbies and likes that might help or produce a long winded answer with some clear gender clues. Maybe she liked horses? Maybe he played football? Nope. We had like thirty more seconds, and I could only get one or two word answers. Yes, this person loved their mom. Hmm…this person likes music. Yep. I’m stuck. My last chance was that the staff would reveal it as we walked up with a “these two boys are next.” or “Micah from South Carolina and a new girl from Texas!” No such luck. I stumbled through as quickly as possible trying to be funny to cover it up. “This person’s name is ______. They like music and love their mom!” It worked. I had offended no one. At worst, I sounded like a moron, but moron is better than jerk. I found out a day or two later that she was a girl. We never became friends.

Micah the Admin

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