On a vacation, a friend of mine (not Summer and not Teri) lamented that her body somehow knows she's not at home, and therefore she's completely unable to poop.
Days went by. Nothing.
Finally, we were sitting in the hotel room and she perked up. "I think it's time!" She exclaimed, and ran into the bathroom.
Not 25 seconds later, she was flushed, hands washed, and sitting back on the bed.
"I'm sorry", we all said.
She looked confused. "Nope, 'Pringles Can'."
It was magical. In no time at all. A Pringles Can.
2 comments:
LOL! I feel better just reading that. How satisfying! And in less than a minute! NICE! Mitch has descriptive little names for all kinds of different poops. The curly log, the weekender, Dr. Squiggles etc etc.
Kady,
Want to trade poop stories? I'm in town.
mark
markshoberg@yahoo.com
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