I read this great essay today in Tin House. It was called, “Mirror Mirror: A Guide To Pathos” by Crystal Williams. It is a lovely essay, poetic, and passionate, and brings up all kinds of terrific ideas and issues with cultural notions of beauty. There are some haunting images from Detroit in the piece. And it kind of gave me a eureka moment about the essay. Like, you don’t always have to conclude something, man. As Williams said, “I think I’m late to that party.”
And I was going to write a laudatory blog post about Crystal Williams’ essay.
But instead, I’m going to wax mom-austic about a decidedly ugly event of this season of sick.
It was Child’s first time today.
She went up to her teacher and said, “Ms. H___, my vagina hurts.”
Ms. H____ was, of course, worried and called me as soon as she could.
Turns out, Child was sharting all day (which accounts for the sore body parts) and spent at least the last hour of her day with a remarkable, yellow diarrhea slick in her poor, un-padded pants.
I asked her why she didn’t ask to go to the bathroom, and she said, “We’re not allowed to go to the bathroom during X” I said, “If you’re not feeling well, it’s okay to ask to go to the bathroom, even when it’s against the rules.”
After the third bath, Child said, “Diarrhea Sucks!”
Oh, the mouths of babes.
It’s 6 loads of laundry and 3 baths later, and I am too tired to tell you about my lovely day. I’m too worn out to contribute anything. Aside from a few crass lines about poop, I’m tapped.