Handful of Failure

I gaped in awe at the fattest turd I have ever seen. Who even did that?? Their poor butt hole, I can’t even fathom how that thing exited the sphincter.

The blob sat at the edge of the hole in the bottom, threatening to plug it up. My eyes were bulging in amazement. I double-gloved my right hand and prepared to snatch that atrocity out of the toilet bowl with a strong plastic bag.

My hand posied above the bowl, I flushed the toilet to make the water level drop and let me have a go at grabbing the poop. Quick as a flash, it swooshed into the hole and visibly clogged it.


I readied the plunger. Floop, floop, floop. Nothing. Flush. Floop, floop, floop.

Still nothing. Floop.


Eons later, I admitted defeat. My pinky was burning. I took off the gloves and discovered a blister. A stinkin’ toilet plunger pinky blister.

Oyiee. That sucker hurts.

My kids immediately began complaining about hunger pains the second I emerged from the bathroom. Fine. I sanitized and fought to open a can of refried beans. My hand slipped and sliced pieces of skin from my knuckles.

Bloody beans, anyone?


Toe Attack

The chair leg leaped into my path and ripped off my little pinky toe. I awkwardly hopped on one foot, frantically dragging my tortured limb behind me. My fingers slapped onto the counter and I  sucked in air between clenched teeth.

Eventually, I dared to peek at my missing toe.

Huh.  Still there. Not purple or hanging by a thread. Definitely not bleeding. I could have sworn…

I looked back curiously at the toddler chair sitting innocently in it’s usual spot.

The pain of stubbing my toe finally began to subside as I shook my head. I have got to stop fighting with the furniture.