Introducing the Von Trapp Family poo poo...

Gregg and I spend an inordinate amount of time waiting for the often non-existent functioning of Shawn Joaquin's bowels. We struggle through hours and hours of encouragement and hearty, false announcements of "HERE COMES THE TINKLE!" and wails of protest when we say no, you can not put on your pants just to have an extra buffer between you and the urine that must, must, must come out at some point.

The two of us have been reduced from witty conversationalists able to talk about sports, pop culture, advertising and great books to talking nearly non-stop to Shawn Joaquin, each other and even other adults about the joys of poo poo and tinkle, its consistency, frequency, color, inappropriate timing and various foods with laxative-like properties. We've gotten so used to cheering when Shawn Joaquin finally gives it up — after FOUR HOURS of crouching beside him, singing songs, playing games, watching a one hour slide show with a single 3 minute song that repeated over and over and over — that we both live in fear of the inevitable moment when we cheer for the stranger in the next stall at some public bathroom.

Shawn Joaquin has become so enamored of this attention that he feels its loss anytime he rises from that little toilet and frees us for a couple of hours of Outside Contact. We went to brunch on Saturday with one of my former colleagues and his boyfriend; we immediately began talking about great advertising, bad layoffs and gossip about mutual friends. Shawn Joaquin quickly lost interest in his 57 toys, 2 books, pumpkin waffle, milk and the dozens of strangers that usually are of great interest. He kept tugging on my arm until I finally turned to him; he then said, in a grand stage whisper: I WANT TO TALK ABOUT SOMETHING. I WANT TO TALK ABOUT WINNIE THE POOH.

Thus in less than two minutes he was able to turn the conversation back to Pooh, if not poo. Gamely, my friends asked him questions about Heffalumps and Piglet, Roo, Rabbit and Winnie the Pooh, much to Shawn Joaquin's great delight. And I was once again reminded that my happiness is based on my son's happiness, and that even though I would sometimes like to talk about things in the news, everything in our lives right now comes down to poo, no matter how you spell it.