Hello, I just had a look around Memorycemetery site, and found this memory by Tengu, called “Poo”. In this post Tengu says that she would like to find out if somebody else says sorry or thank you when they do poo. Well, I do sometimes. Moreover, there’s a site dedicated to poo, it called www.poopreport.com. I guess everybody interested in the subject can just have a look or contribute 
… Anyway, I would like to share my poo memory here too. Actually, I reprint it from PoopReport, but nevermind.
This is not the earliest memory I have, but it is one of the most vivid. When I was five I used to run around the house in my undies. (Ever since, I’ve always felt more comfortable and relaxed in them — which has led to some interesting moments when roommates have come home early from a trip or didn’t bother to tell me that they took the day off of work.) And back when I was five, I had this toy box — well, not really a box, but a giant plastic football. Now that I think about it, it kinda looked like a giant turd that had a hole on the top through which you would access the toys inside.We were living with my grandparents, as my mom and dad had recently divorced. My mom and I had to share the upstairs back bedroom. She was pretty good about it, as she was really only ever in the room at night to sleep; during the day I was allowed to play in there “quietly.”
I don’t recall exactly why that when I had to poop I didn’t just go to the bathroom. Instead, I choose to hold it. More than likely, I was probably just having a grand old time playing. So, sitting in that room dimly lit by the sun coming in through the window, wearing nothing but my favorite pair of Superman Underoos (I may have to find adult versions of these one day just to freak out my girl), holding in my poo, it happened. I was playing with Lego’s and Matchbox Cars, and when I moved to get more cars from the toy football, I suddenly had a giant turd in my underwear.
I didn’t want to say anything or get caught for fear of getting in trouble. I was getting in trouble a lot around that time for not having to pee before a car trip and then pissing my pants because I really did have to go. So I reached in through the front of my Roo’s and pulled out this turd that was bigger than my hand. I remember making a fist with my other hand and comparing them. Continue reading ‘My first memory of poo’
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