Nope, never mind. I can’t blarg about this. It’s too gross even for me. There’s nothing funny about violating the butthole of a two-year-old with a tiny plastic tube.
Okay, on second thought, maybe there is. Just not perhaps the kind of funny you want.
But there’s definitely nothing funny about the boy walking around with a look on his face like he’s just been told that Popsicles are made out of horses as he squeezes off tiny little duck-quack farts with every step.
…Again, perhaps it’s not the right kind of funny.
Look, there was definitely a scene. There were towels on the floor and a lot of screaming. There was talk of breaking out the puppy housebreaking pads. I can’t remember if it was the boy screaming or my wife or myself, but it was high-pitched and plaintive. I was really concerned about the state of the tub at one point. There may or may not have been comparisons to Georgia red clay and mud-hut bricks.
But it was too gross to write about, so this is me not writing about it.
Day two of editing is underway. Like jumping into a freezing cold pool, it’s not so bad once you actually get in the water. More to come later.
It’s hard to focus with all this poop I’m not writing about.