Monday, January 03, 2005

The House at Poop Corner

There is a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“Honey, it’s me. Are you OK?”

“I’m fine.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking a dump.”

“You’ve been in there for a long time. Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine dear. Can you just give me a few minutes please?”

“OK. Bye.”

A moment later, there is another knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, daddy.”

“What do you need, bud?”

“Well, I just want to know if you wanted to play with me.”

“Yeah, I do. I really do. Can you just give me a couple of minutes?”

“Why can’t you play now?”

“Because I’m going poo-poo, buddy.”

“OK. Come and find me when you’re done, OK?”

“OK. Bye.”

A few moments later, another knock.

“Who is it?”


“What do you need, peanut?”

“Daddy! Barney!”

“Honey, I’ll put Barney on for you in a minute, OK?”

“Noooo! Barney, daddy! Barney!”

“Sweetheart, daddy’s going poo-poo. Can you go ask mommy to help you with the Barney tape?”

“Nooooo! Daddy do it! Barney!”

“Barney’s dead, honey. Daddy killed him with a chainsaw.”


A minute later, another knock.


“Daniel, did you just tell our daughter that you killed Barney?”


“Why? Why would you do that to her?”


“Lovely. I guess your bowel movement is important enough to scar our daughter for life.”


A minute later, I glance over and find that there is no toilet paper. I holler out for assistance, but no one will come. They don’t want me to yell at them. They’re smart.

A minute later, I realize that I’m going to have to wipe my butt with my underpants.


At 9:16 PM, Blogger Closet Metro said...

I guess its the shorts or the curtains, right?

At 12:08 AM, Blogger Kelly Hanson said...

Oh, the irony.

At 7:55 AM, Blogger Mrs.Strizzay said...

You totally need to just start leaving the door open.

At 10:23 AM, Blogger Sissychong said...

After many interupted "sessions", I told my children not to interupt me unless they are bleeding or the house is on fire. So now it is:
knock, knock

Are you bleeding?


Is the house on fire?


Why are you here?

Ok I will wait 'til you are done.

I can not wait until they are teenagers, because I am going to knock on that darn door everytime it closes!

At 11:06 AM, Blogger shellibells said...

Depends...who does the laundry???

At 12:54 PM, Blogger JoeinVegas said...

Congrats on finally killing off Barney. I know you have been trying for quite a while to whack him. Hope your daughter isn't too traumatized, and you wife doesn't leave you over it. But it was the right thing to do.
I don't know the layout of your house, but if you've got your own bathroom in the master bedroom (newer house?) you can lock the bedroom door first, that way they can't get to the door you are behind, and you probably would not even hear them knocking. Of course, then your wife couldn't get into the bedroom either, but that's a different round of complaints.

At 1:45 PM, Blogger Jacqueline said...

Hmm...I know someone who once used the Dial soap wrapper when in such a bind...

At 1:57 PM, Blogger DyingBurningFighting said...

Secretly, it is to avoid that possible compication that I always bring a newspaper into the bathroom with me.
Oh, and thank you for the service you have done the world in ridding it of barney.

At 5:54 PM, Blogger Carrie said...


Ok, here's the beauty of having your own blog. Not one person chastised you about the Barney comment. We're all just concerned about YOU and how to help you resolve future T.P. crises. LOL

At 8:36 AM, Blogger Holy Schmidt said...

I love that story. It's great. I can that exact thing happening in our house!

At 9:42 AM, Blogger Sunny Saxena said...

from now on every single time i go to poooo.... i will think of this... you have ruined my life. :D

At 12:34 PM, Blogger Colleen said...

That's an ugly way to start the day... defecation without representation. I've been there, comrade.

At 1:49 PM, Blogger Random and Odd said...

hee hee.
Yeah, welcome to the world of never being able to close the bathroom door again.
I haven't seen the back of my bathroom door in 11 years.

At 1:50 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Love your comments on Dooce; and think you're hysterical and poignant here.

We all used to crowd in on my dad when he was taking a shit. He'd yell "What is this, Grand Central Station?"

At 5:12 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm not anonymous, I swear (just didn't want to sign my life away for an eBlogger account).

Just found your journal (by link from and, dude, your writing is HILARIOUS. For the past hour, I've been bobbing in my office chair with giggling fits and tears streaming down my face because, you know, geeks are supposed to laugh at funny things only if they're in Klingon or C++.

Hehe. It's also required reading for my man from now on.

Great writing! Keep going.

The Grammarqueen

At 12:58 PM, Blogger Jales said...

LOL I've been through that myself. I told my husband once "I swear by all that's holy if you people don't leave me the fuck alone I'm going to go prop open the front door and shit in the middle of the living room just so I'm completely available! And one of you is cleaning it up because I clean up enough shit around here!" They leave me alone now.

At 4:32 PM, Blogger Lala said...

16 comments! Is that a record Danny?


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