The Origin of Faeces

It seems that during the past few days I’ve been up to my elbows in the stuff, and sadly, that’s not a purely figurative phrase. Whereas Miss Lonie, as a baby, for months had a week-long hiatus between poohs, Master Lonie is making up for those glorious pooh-free days with a vengeance.

Before I made my own contribution to the survival of humankind, I don’t think I would have believed how dispassionately I now wash cloth nappies that, at a glance and a whiff, could pass for toxic radioactive waste. Vestiges of my pre-baby coprophobia can still be observed, however, now that Master Lonie, quick on the uptake, has discovered the appendage normally muffled in his nappy that most males derive hours of pleasure from. He doesn’t seem to mind that grabbing for it the instant I take his nappy off wins him a handful of sloppy green ordure, in fact he’s so pleased he generously shares his unexpected treasure with everything in reach. But other than that: pooh, vomit, regurgitated milk, a yellow arc of urine to rival any wee-ing cherub fountain – doesn't even elicit a raised eyebrow from me these days.

Oh, I’m sorry, am I doing that thing that parents of small children do again? Have you all stopped reading to vomit and stock up on contraceptives? I do apologise.

Evidently my muse dislikes the stink of pooh, because she’s deserted me, diaphanous toga held elegantly to her nostrils, and for all my staring at the computer screen, typing and cutting and drag-and-dropping, instead of a decent blog post all I’ve produced is insipid rubbish (watch this space!). So until she sees fit to return, I thought I’d leave you with some amusing trivia I picked up from Miss Oprah Winfrey.

From her ivory tower of incredible wealth and celebrity she had a microbiologist analyse the houses of some average plebs, so she could tell us all what was wrong with our shamefully servant-free lifestyles. I never did find out how many billions of microbes are swimming about in my nappy buckets as I write, but apparently, there are more bacteria living in the average person’s mouth, than their anus.

Hmm. I know which end of them I’d rather French-kiss.