Funny Stories for Kids Avout Poop
Maybe there was a line outside the door and the toilet wouldn't flush. Or perhaps you were on vacation and suddenly regretted wearing such tiny bikini bottoms. Poo happens and not always in the best of circumstances. It can feel like the end of the world in the moment, but after a while, you just have to laugh about it. That's what these six women you're about to meet are doing, recounting their funniest, most jaw-dropping poo stories. Buckle up—it's going to get messy.
"I never pooped at work again"
It was 9:20 a.m. on a workday in the office, time for my morning bathroom break following my large drip coffee. I made my way to the closed-door washroom, the only washroom on the entire floor and quickly did my business. I'm always stressed to go at work, especially at this time of day—seems a lot of people are on the same schedule. It turns out I had a lot to relieve myself of that day, if you know what I mean. I had a feeling things were about to go south, so I said a little prayer as I went to flush.
Just like I expected, nothing! There was no way this ginormous thing was going to fit down the whole. Someone started knocking on the door. Panicked, I yelled "Busy!" and tried to flush it down a second and then third time. It wouldn't budge. I had to act fast. I knew I needed to cut this thing down so it would fit. But cut it with what? Dear God, please, not my hands! I looked around the room and the only somewhat solid object I spotted was a plastic dollar-store flower in a vase by the sink. More knocking on the door. "I said, 'Busy!'"
I quickly got to work sawing the log into pieces. Then, I'm not quite sure how it happened, but all of sudden I heard a faint suction sound and the water from the toilet came gushing out. I mean like flying to the ceiling and onto the mirror—brown, chunky water all over the freaking bathroom. And the whole time this was happening, the knocking was getting louder and louder.
I grabbed a wad of toilet paper, got up on the seat and proceeded to frantically wipe down everything I could reach. Then I washed the flower's stem, put it back in the vase and took a deep breath. I tried to look as casual as possible as I walked out. Three people were waiting in line. I told them there was a problem with the toilet, then practically ran back to my desk. I never pooped at work again.—Jane
"In that instant, I knew it wasn't icing"
When my baby, Mikey, was six months old, he got a bad case of diarrhea. It coincided with my cousin's wedding, which I was determined not to miss—I had spent the past six months moving from the kitchen to the bedroom, occasionally to the park. I needed some social interaction! I needed to feel like a human being again! On the day of the wedding, everything went well from the morning right up to the cake: The ceremony was beautiful, Mikey was in a good mood, I was feeling great wearing a dress instead of sweats.
Then, when the cake was being cut, I felt Mikey's diaper start leaking on me. I quietly brought him with me to the bathroom to change him, and as soon as that diaper came off, he positively squirted diarrhea. I literally ducked, holding on to his ankles on the change table. I cleaned him up, cleaned up some errant poo on my hands and we headed back out. Disaster averted! Someone handed me a piece of chocolate wedding cake. A few minutes later, my cousin's husband's aunt came over to chat and noticed something in my hair, "You've got some icing, just a sec," she said, using her finger to grab it and then bringing that finger toward her mouth. In that instant, I knew it wasn't icing but I stood frozen, watching, as if in slow motion. She got within a millimetre of her mouth and then must have smelled it. She froze, glanced at Mikey and my horrified expression and then basically fled to the bathroom, her finger out in front of her. Mikey seemed to chortle. I had to laugh, too. It was pretty bad, but was almost much, much worse!—Leila
"I put my poo in my purse!"
I had gotten to work early that morning. I went to the bathroom and did my daily business, but when I went to flush, I noticed there was barely any water in the toilet. That's when I remembered the city was shutting our water off to do some road work. How could I forget?! The place I work at is really small and everyone uses the same bathroom so I couldn't just leave it there. Everyone would know it was me—I had gotten there before anyone else!
I had to get it out of there somehow. First, I considered putting it in the trash can next to the toilet, but it was a hot summer day and I worried about someone finding it and looking for the psycho who put their poo in the trash. I couldn't risk it. I had to extract it and take it as far away as possible.
Terrified someone would walk into the office, I ran to my desk, grabbed a plastic bag and hurried back to the bathroom. Then, I scooped up my poo with some paper towels, wrapped it in the plastic bag and slipped it into my purse. I put my poo in my purse! I walked out of the office and began looking for the best place to "dump the body." There was a shopping mall close by, so I went in, found a garbage can and just dropped it in. Funnily enough, I later learned that another girl from work had done the exact same thing!—Florence
"Sweet relief followed by a hot flush of shame"
Years ago, I came home from work to find my boyfriend very shaken. He grabbed my hands and asked me to sit down on the couch. I got very still. Had he cheated on me? Gotten fired? Slowly, he explained. He had been driving home when the urge to poo suddenly came upon him. He thought he'd make it. Then he hit traffic. He squirmed in his seat, cold dread seizing his heart as his bowels twisted. At about minute 11, still kilometres from home, he realized there was no way out. There in his truck, he let go and pooed himself. Sweet relief followed by a hot flush of shame. The worst part, he said, was the slow-moving journey, walking with a clenched bum from the parking lot to our fourth-floor apartment. By this point in the story, we were both laughing that kind of silent horrified laughter. Poor honey! Honestly, the affection I felt for him in that moment probably extended our relationship by six months.—Margot
"I suppose true love means a lot of things, including standing by your partner when she shits herself in public"
It was date night on a cool spring evening, the kind that still warrants an extra layer, so tights were definitely on the outfit roster. I was flying out the next day straight after work and wouldn't see my boyfriend for 10 days. Dinner at one of our favourite restaurants was a hit (as usual), and we decided to head for a nightcap at one of our local spots, which was walking distance from the restaurant. As we left the restaurant I said, "Oh, I should have gone pee!" He asked if I wanted to go back and I responded, "I'll be fine till we make it to the bar." Unbeknownst to me, this would be a fateful error.
The walk involved a stretch of residential buildings and a large park that spanned a couple of blocks on the main road. We started strolling and it wasn't long before my bottom was clenching for dear life and I had us picking up the pace in my ankle boots. "We're almost there, you can make it!" he said in his unwavering, supportive way—not flinching at what we both understood was clearly more than an impending number 1. Halfway past the park, I stopped dead in my tracks and he looked at me with hope in his eyes as I buried my face in my hands whispering, "It's too late." The embarrassment swept over me almost as quickly as my dinner flowed down my tights and filled my boots. Again, unflinching, he softly said, "It's okay, it's okay," and we hobbled past the park, past the intended destination and into a coffee shop just beyond to use the bathroom. There, I stripped down, removed my poo-filled tights and freshened up as much as possible while thinking about how I would face him upon emerging from the bathroom. He popped into the neighbouring LCBO to grab us a bottle of wine as I hovered outside smoking a cigarette and trying to mask the smell of my adult accident, which required more than a pit-stop clean-up.
Finally, we flagged a taxi in which I sat sideways to avoid having my dress and bottom flat on the seat. Needless to say, I never wore that dress again. We did manage to spark some romance after a thorough shower and a good night's sleep before I headed off the next day. I suppose true love means a lot of things, including standing by your partner when she shits herself in public. We are now married with a baby and hopefully she never needs to hear this story as anecdotal comfort!—Hazel
"Should I scoop it out with a Tupperware and bring it outside? Cover it with toilet paper? Or just pretend it wasn't me?"
I was staying over at my new-ish boyfriend's apartment. We had gone out, eaten and had drinks until late, and when we got back to his place, the night caught up to me… I really had to go number 2.
He had roommates and I really didn't want to go while they were still awake so I held it in and set my alarm for 5 a.m. When it rang the next morning, I tiptoed over to the bathroom to do my business, making sure the windows were wide open. The feeling of satisfaction was unreal. I got to go and no one noticed.
But then, when I went to flush, nothing happened. I tried again; still nothing. I opened the tap; nothing. The water had been shut off! Mortified, I thought of a 1,000 different scenarios. Should I scoop it out with a Tupperware and bring it outside? Cover it with toilet paper? Or just pretend it wasn't me?
I figured that if my boyfriend and I got out of the house early before his roommates woke up, they'd never think it was the new girlfriend who dirtied up their bathroom. One of them would probably flush it down once the water came back and think nothing of it. Just in case, I told my boyfriend what had happened and asked him to cover me if they asked. "Of course!" he said reassuringly.
We went out for brunch and when we came back, we found his two roommates in the living room, patiently waiting for us to come back. "Someone really unloaded in the bathroom this morning," one of them said. I swear I died a little inside! A moment of silence…. "Yeah, seems Alicia's great night made for an even better morning," my boyfriend said with a chuckle. Asshole!? If you're wondering, no, it didn't last very long.—Alicia
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Source: https://thekit.ca/beauty/body/funny-stories-poo/
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