Forget Pooh Bear, meet Pooh Bore.

At the baggage carousel at the airport last night my husband got talking to an American lady who had just arrived in Norway for a spot of skiing. Being a friendly sort she then came over to me, the weary wife plonked on a nearby plastic seat, to admire the baby. “Oh what a lovely baby and so well behaved,“she cooed. “Yes, he is,” I replied, “but he normally only does one poo a week and he’s just done a massive one on the plane.” Understandably, not up to the challenge of such scintillating conversation, the poor woman backed away and continued on her travels. To be fair to me I had just changed a nappy containing 10 days worth of excrement on the floor of the ladies loo, surrounded by strangers, but still. It actually took me several minutes to realize what I had said after which I burst out laughing to myself appearing to any onlookers like the sanity-challenged (pooh-obsessed), frizzy-haired mess with a (real) tan that had just returned from ‘holidays’.
So it’s official. I am a poo bore and have just confirmed that fact by devoting an entire blog posting on the (subject) matter. Have a nice day!

1 comment:

Wenda said...

Can you hear me laughing? I think I'll stick around for more of the conversation. Glad I discovered your blog today.