The Haxtun-Fleming Herald - What can we reason but from what we know? -Alexander Pope

As a mother of young children (three boys, for that matter), I am no stranger to the smelliness that accompanies their little bodies. Dirty diapers, vomit, stinky shoes, farts, sweaty clothes, spoiled milk, etc. I’ve smelt it all.

This past weekend I went upstairs to change sheets on all the beds when I felt like I had been sucker punched square in the face with this horrible odor. I checked Wade’s room to make sure a poopy diaper didn’t get left in the trash. I checked Knox and Otis’ bedroom to see if any snacks had been left to mutate into swamp creatures. I pulled everyone’s sheets off, nobody’s looked or smelled like they had been peed in. I smelled their hampers and couldn’t find it. But I could still smell it. I started walking down the hallway and it started becoming stronger. It was like I was playing a game of “warmer … warmer … colder …” upstairs by myself. Only the prize at the end was going suck. It was at this time that I realized it was coming from the bathroom.

Now, I am fully aware that I am not a great housekeeper. Just ask my husband. Or my mom. Or anyone who has ever been to my home. I am mediocre at my absolute best. So for me to say the upstairs bathroom has a funk is commonplace. But this smell. You guys … it was more than just day old pee in the toilet or an old dirty washcloth in the shower. It was assaulting, and it was permeating every opening it possibly could. It worked its way into my nostrils and attached itself to my brain like a shadow demon.

Expecting the worst, I held my breath and opened the toilet anticipating a huge turd, but there was nothing in there. Yes, it needed cleaned, but that wasn’t where the smell was coming from. (On a side note, I am all for saving the environment, but not at the expense of half-flushed turds. Low flow toilets are crap. And I mean that in the most literal sense.) I figured I would get to the bottom of this smell eventually, but I needed to clean this toilet. I squirted some bowl cleaner in the toilet, pulled the toilet wand out of the holder and that’s when I found the smell. There was half a turd stuck to the bottom of the cleaning brush and the other half laying in the bottom of the holder. I nearly tossed my cookies.

When I said I was going to get to the bottom of this smell, I meant I was going to find out whose bottom this came from. I was pretty certain Knox wouldn’t have done something like that, so I went to my main suspect and previous offender of stinky, Otis. I asked him if he had cleaned the toilet lately and his eyes got awfully wide. I asked again if he used the cleaning brush and he sheepishly said “Yes.” I asked him why he thought he needed to clean the toilet to which he replied “My poop was too sticky. It stuck to the toilet. It wouldn’t even flush!”

Now, as I picture it, Otis takes a poop. He flushes the toilet and as the water goes down with the turd stuck to the bowl he starts to panic. He probably tried to push it down using toilet paper, but that wasn’t strong enough. He has enough sense not to use his hands (thank the Lord) and knew that the cleaning brush was safe to use in toilets. But instead of maybe pushing it down a little further, he just decides to stab it with the toilet brush like he’s spearing fish and stick it back into the holder? C’mon man!

I told him I appreciated him trying to help clean, but that next time he needed to let me or his dad know so that we don’t have a stinky poop hanging out in the bathroom for several days. In response, he told me I should really have a plunger for them upstairs because there are a lot of times his poops are “just really sticky.” Duly noted.