Saturday, May 15, 2004
Poo
Sometimes, walking around, I occasionally step in doggy poo. Not on purpose of course, even though it's supposed to be good luck, for that would be cheating. It just turns up where you least expect it: getting out of your car at the supermarket, taking romantic walks on the beach, or on slides at McDonaldland playgrounds (this last one, come to think of it, may not have been of canine origin.)
When I was a kid, running around barefoot, stepping on poo was usually not a good thing, what with being barefoot and all, but especially since I then tracked the poo back into the house, which caused my mother to burn with the fire of a thousand angry mothers. Even as a young adult with shoes on, it still wasn't such a good thing. Walking into an office for a job interview with the aroma of fresh poo emanating from your person does not leave a very good first impression.
But with all the bad experiences one can have with poo, when you think about it, there's no use being offended by poo at all. After all, everybody poos. In fact, I believe there is a book called Everybody Poos. There's Pooing in the Woods, which is a great place to visit. There's also dung beetles, which make poo their homes, or is it their meals? In any case, poo serves it's purpose. And if I ever run out of money to buy fertilizer for my tomato plants, I take comfort in the fact that I will always have a cheap, yet morally questionable, alternative.
When I was a kid, running around barefoot, stepping on poo was usually not a good thing, what with being barefoot and all, but especially since I then tracked the poo back into the house, which caused my mother to burn with the fire of a thousand angry mothers. Even as a young adult with shoes on, it still wasn't such a good thing. Walking into an office for a job interview with the aroma of fresh poo emanating from your person does not leave a very good first impression.
But with all the bad experiences one can have with poo, when you think about it, there's no use being offended by poo at all. After all, everybody poos. In fact, I believe there is a book called Everybody Poos. There's Pooing in the Woods, which is a great place to visit. There's also dung beetles, which make poo their homes, or is it their meals? In any case, poo serves it's purpose. And if I ever run out of money to buy fertilizer for my tomato plants, I take comfort in the fact that I will always have a cheap, yet morally questionable, alternative.
