An Irregularity: Question From Your Son That Every Mother Longs to Hear

You could say that I have a very good relationship with my son. Unlike my teenage daughter who is secretive to a fault, he’s always talked to me frankly about many things. He knows how I react (usually there’s no reaction, I have to play it cool), so he enjoys bouncing things off me. Sometimes he makes stuff up just to cause a reaction. He gets that from his dad’s side of the family. Sometimes the topics are things I’d rather not know about, but I listen anyway.

I received an email from this 20-year-old college son today. It was just two sentences. I wish I could describe it, but my inner decorum won’t allow me, so I will reproduce the entire email here:

“So Mai [his girlfriend] takes a dump 1 time every 4 days. Any suggestions on how we can get things movin in there?”

My first reaction after laughing my ass off (thank you, son, for bringing some levity into my otherwise drab and morbidly morose existence) was “what the f***? Shouldn’t you be practicing?”

My second reaction was “Oh, my God!”

That’s because he takes after his father. If you read this post, you’d know what I am talking about. My husband can talk poo ad nauseaum. (And believe me, I’m pretty nauseous if I allow him to do so.) Me, if it leaves my body and I flush it down, that’s it. I don’t wave farewell; I don’t deliver eulogies; I don’t review the size, texture or color; I don’t look back. The rest of the family is an entirely different story.

While my son and his girlfriend were here for Christmas, he and his dad tried valiantly to suck me into a poo-laden conversation. I refused to participate, except to say that I’m regular. I regularly do it every day. In fact, I regularly do it every morning right after my one cup of coffee. My regularity is of the atomic clock-setting variety.

My son, as well, is regularly regular. On the other hand, my husband is totally irregular. A week or so may elapse before he goes. This just occurred last week. Since I don’t keep track, I didn’t realize this was the problem until I made a comment on how big his stomach was getting. The reason this was noticeable is because the rest of him is thin. Mr. D’s reply was “well, I haven’t taken a dump in a week!” to which I replied, “EWW! Don’t tell me!”

Back to the email: I don’t know what to tell the young man. His girlfriend is a vegetarian, so she gets plenty of roughage. My husband eats twigs and bark for breakfast, so he gets plenty of fiber too. Both my son and I are carnivores who detest cereal made from twigs and bark, so what does that tell you?

I’m thinking about not answering that email at all. I don’t want to become swallowed whole into the vortex that is poo-talk.