(Photo stolen from pkumag over here)
Stop me if you've heard this one before.
One old saw about the indigenous people of the Far North -- Eskimo, Innuit, I've lost track of the proper name -- is that they have over 100 words for snow. I have no way of knowing if this is true or not, but I'm certain that even if that old story is wrong by half, the Far North people have 49 more words for snow than I have.
We, however, have cornered the market on ways to say pooping. And when I say we, I mean Chas, of course. And when I say Chas, I mean Chas and his two daughters, of course. No relation to their mother, who would, of course, be me.
And while I know that the girls have picked up terms from Daddy such as "punched a grumper" and "scatterbombed," and while I'm thankful that their vocabulary has not yet included "carpet bombed," "panatellas," "dry-docked" and "dropped off the kids at the pool," still they take my breath away once in a while with some unexpected colorful poop reference. Such as . . .
Smedley, when asked if she had forgotten to flush, denied it and casually added, "Sparky dropped a deuce just after I used the bathroom."
We're going straight to Hell, aren't we? And by we I mean, of course, Chas.
This toilet is pretty similar to the first toilet Chas and I had as a married couple, except ours was even greener. Chas dubbed it both "The Avo-Coiler" and "The Guac-commode." If you have to ask about the names, you're far too upscale a person to be reading here. I'm so sorry to have burned your retinas.
(Photo stolen from these guys)
Oops, gotta fly -- I've got to go drop the kids off at the pool.