19 Aug

Tonight I am caught between sharing a very interesting part of my day and not wanting to step on any toes. After much debate, the desire to share a very real part of my experience at my office has won out. Before I launch into telling my tale, I have to preface it by saying that everyone poops. That’s right. You all remember the book from your childhood. If you don’t, well, wait until you have kids and you’ll have the chance to revisit this fabulous piece of literature. (I hope you caught onto the sarcasm there) I also want to bring up the stigma men carry when it comes to this particular part of life. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has their moments every once in a while. Think of it as an accomplishment to produce something so potent. That said, I feel as though I’ve built up enough anticipation to now dive into, sadly, a common occurrence in my workplace:

The morning had passed by quickly and everyone in the office had already returned to work for the last half of the day. Considering the fact that we live in SWGA, it is not hard to imagine how very hot it had gotten in the office. Our air conditioner unit, circa 1887, was working as hard as it could, but was only able to keep the temperature in the office a muggy 76 degrees. Mr. Leonard, my grandmother’s husband, occupies the office behind mine. Around 3:30pm he proceeded to shut his office door and head to the bathroom which sits off of his office. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and Chip, my boss, had the audacity to laugh. Oh the horror that was to come. Five minutes passed and Mr. Leonard finally emerged from the “bomb shelter,” a.k.a. the bathroom. Thankfully the door to his office was still shut. This slowed the spread of the product of his visit to “the back.” I imagine it eked out from under his door and made the shape of a wagging finger is it made it’s assault on my nostrils. The tender hairs tucked inside curled in on themselves in an attempt to shy away from the encroaching gastro-disaster. I, being quick on my feet, dove into my desk drawer to grab the lighter I keep there for just such an occasion. I keep an el-cheapo candle at my desk, not only to spruce up the surface of my desk, but to also fend off the office from such impending invasions. To my utter horror, the lighter was missing. I then remembered that I had seen it early on Mr. Leonard’s desk. *dramatic gasp* I was in a pickle. The lighter I needed to save the office was trapped behind enemy lines at ground zero. (I could almost see a movie trailer depicting this scene flash before my eyes) I dismayed over the situation as the Gastro-Godzilla traveled through my office and into the rest of the building. Too late!! There was nothing to do now but wait it out, breathing through ours mouths and speaking with that odd, nasal tone your voice gets when you try to talk while holding your breath.

The rest of the work day was peppered with snickers and giggles.

As I drove home, however, I had the pleasure of driving through a cloud of smoke that was pouring out of my neighbor’s smoke house. Mmm, BBQ. My nose thanked me.

The evening was more of the same: eat, bathe, do homework, rinse & repeat. As the kids were brushing their teeth before bed, I got the bright idea to trim Denny’s toenails. (By bright, I mean dim) The ensuing battle looked more like a hog-tying at a rodeo than it did a nail trimming session in our living room. I swear it seemed like Denny had greased himself up in anticipation of such an act. Neither I nor Jordan could hold onto him for more than a few seconds. I swear the dog was smiling/laughing the entire time. After a few quiet expletives were uttered, we gave up and decided to shell out the small fee to have the vet do it.


One Response to “Gastro-Godzilla”

  1. sherri August 19, 2009 at 2:51 AM #

    Dear Lord Jesus…..yuck and gross me out…you deserve a raise for that part of your job!

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