Our Bazooka (Redux)

by Ashley Weeks Cart

To break up some of the more serious conversation occurring on this blog of late, I thought I share yet another snippet of what pillow talk sounds like for me and James. Because who doesn’t find dialogue about poop funny?

Me: I find it sickeningly adorable that Sunny refers to her pee and poo as “peeps” and “poops.” “Mama, I need to poops!” Who knew making bodily functions plural would make them so endearing?

Him: Speaking of poops, you should have seen the coil she dropped in the woods yesterday.

Me: The coil she dropped? I… I don’t even know what to say about that phrase…

Him: Clearly, you did not grow up shitting in the woods with a bunch of boys.

Me: Dude, I went five days sans movement on my WOOLF trip (our outdoor orientation program during college). THAT’s how terrified I am of pooping in the woods.

Him: I’m going to glaze over how wildly unhealthy that is… It’s my mission that the girls know how to boldly poop in the woods. Sunny was a champion on Friday. I held her arms, she popped a squat, and built her mound.

Me: Built her mound? I just… wow.

Him: Unfortunately, the ground was only covered in dried, disintegrating leaves, so I carried her like a loaded gun, butt holstered under my armpit, back to the car to grab wipes from the diaper bag.

Me: That’s not the first time we’ve referred to her butt as a loaded gun.

Him: The metaphor clearly works for us.


I’ll be sure to pull this post out years from now at her high school graduation, or better yet, her wedding.

You’re welcome, sweetie.