Grandma Henke

I was thinking of poop today … don’t even know why … and got to wondering how many stinky bottoms  I have changed in my 61 years, however, that there is one experience that stands out more than any other and that was eleven years ago with my grand niece, who I graciously will not name because I love her.  This is not her picture, by the way … it is my grand daughter, Anna. 

I wrote a poem about it  … because my own nieces and sister and sister in law and mother all claimed it was a story to be told.   I promise you … this is not exaggerated.    If you have a weak stomach you might want to skip it.   If you have been pooped on by a baby … you will be glad this one wasn’t you.

        Baby’s Cup o’ Poop by Great Aunt Edna Henke 1997

I’ve had my share of poop in beds, and poop smeared on the wall, 

In car seats and in shopping carts, and strollers in the mall.

I’ve wiped so many bottoms, down the legs and up the backs,

In blankets and in tubbies … yes, I think I know the facts!   

I’ve handled many babies who’ve been covered with the stuff,

And I thought that in my fifty years I’d handled quite enough.

At a shower for Kim’s baby, I held Jodie’s in my arm,

I heard a noise, and felt a blast … and then my lap felt warm.

I thought, “Now that’s too warm” so I checked her bottom side,

But I figured I was fine because my hand had come back dried.

Yet, something told me ’twas not so … my lap was feeling moist.

“Don’t tip her up!  It’s coming out!” I heard her mother’s voice.

So quickly I picked up her legs, thinking they had sprung the leaks,

But that just made a pour spout of her bottom’s chubby cheeks.

Her mother whisked the babe away but I saw I’d been duped,

There in my lap, just like a lake, was all that baby’s poop.

We’re not talking one small drop … not just a tiny spot!

We’re talking quite a major job.  She gave me the whole shot!

Jodie handed me some wipes, and between my legs I scooped,

It took at least eight handfuls to scoop out what she pooped.

I might have gone unnoticed by the others in the room,

But Grandma, Sheri, Ann, and Viv all brought me to my doom.

Each scoop of poop I shoveled made their gleeful laughter rise,

When I finally left the room tears spilled from their eyes.

In the bathroom I discovered it had gone entirely through.

Beneath each clothing layer there was sticky, yellow poo.

It was down my legs and in my lap and even on my belly.

Fluorescent yellow painted on, like slick, clear smelly jelly.

On little, charming babies those smells are quite in line,

But those baby smells are different on a body such as mine.

I washed up some, as best I could, just in the bathroom sink,

But I could still smell easily how bad those clothes did stink.

I couldn’t hide forever and I sure did want to change,

But I figured I might be okay if I just sat way down range.

So … I girded up my smelly loins and all my courage took,

And went back to the party, though I had a messy look.

I decided it was funny, and was feeling fairly happy,

But while I saw there stinking I was starting to get chappy.

And soon I started itching as my clothing dried again,

And stuck tight to my little hairs and plucked out nine or ten.

I was glad when it was over, so I could leave and go outside,

With Jodie, Sheri, Viv and Ann, plus Grandma at my side.

The ladies of our fam’ly hardly made it out the door,

Before they started hooting and harassing me some more.

I took abuse from all of them, that rowdy little group,

Cavorting in the parking lot about the yellow poop.

Dad would have had a hay day if he’d seen that in my lap,

He’d have summed it up precisely, with just one word … Keeerap!