EVERYONE has a poop story to tell… here is mine.

November 27, 2011

Essays for Giggles, Toilet Stories


I once had a little gang of friends who took turns hosting monthly dinners, but for Christmas one year, we decided to get together at a restaurant. After a hearty meal and much merry-making, my husband and I went back to our friends’ house for the night. They had literally just moved into the home that very day, actually arriving late to the dinner party because they were unpacking boxes.

After a night of overindulgence in both food and drink, I slept restlessly and in a slightly drunken stupor. The blinding bright light of morning was accompanied by the intense pain of stomach cramps.

Anyone who has ever eaten too much food and drank too much wine and slept too little, and poorly at that, knows what happened next.

A quick jaunt to the guest bathroom, the first time in MONTHS that the toilet had been used, created a clog so foul that, to this day, it cannot be unseen. The house had been empty for who-knows-how-long before they moved in, so the toilet hadn’t been flushed in forever, and apparently wasn’t planning on doing its civic duty on this day either.

Horrified by the stopped-up commode and the stench I’d left behind, I dove under the covers and told my husband that he had to rescue me. My hung-over knight in shining armor (and wrinkled pajama bottoms), got a plunger from our friends and proceeded to go to town on the blockage.

There was a lot of splashing and swearing… more splashing and LOTS of swearing, as I died a slow death… with a pillow over my head. At one point, one of our hosts, R. came in to assist my husband. His wife was at the bathroom door discussing options. All while my bowl of shame was making its presence known by merrily wafting through the house. As you can imagine, I lay very still and tried to pretend it wasn’t happening all while telling the Angel of Death that I was ready now.

Ultimately, defeat was declared. It was established that a plumber would have to be called (thank God for the other three bathrooms), and decided that we would all vacate for breakfast at the nearest Cracker Barrel.

But the story gets worse. And believe me, I know that is hard to imagine.

As we were getting ready to leave the house, I noticed some spots on the floor as my husband walked up and down their hallway. As the mess got worse, I detected the droppings and stench of what could only be my own fecal matter, as my husband dripped it off his pants, up and down our friends’ lovely wood floors (thank God it wasn’t carpet). As I screamed in horror for him to STOP. WALKING., I grabbed some paper towels and cleaned up my own post-party poo off the hardwood floor of my friends’ new home.

It was somewhere in those moments that my mind split from my body and I was no longer there. My body was moving, but my mind was off somewhere singing “The Good Ship Lollipop.”

My hubby had been plunging so violently that he had splashed giant wads of mess from the toilet onto his pants and had not noticed! Mon Dieu. We threw those pants in the trash, borrowed some from our friend and I left that cursed shit-house behind, along with significant amounts of my DNA.

We all have our own poop story to tell… or not… and should you be lucky enough to be reading this with intact and firm bowels, just know that your day will come… and if some day you can laugh about it with friends, over a big bottle of Merlot, in a (minimum) two bathroom house, with a plunger handy… then you will have shared one of the many experiences in life that make us human and lived to laugh about it.


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About reneadijab

Renea Dijab

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8 Comments on “EVERYONE has a poop story to tell… here is mine.”

  1. Joan Says:

    That’s one of the reasons we get married….so we have a knight in shining armor to do our dirty work for us!


  2. Andi Darrigo Says:

    I was laughing so hard when reading this, that I couldn’t see. I miss your sense of humor!!


  3. Bob Hickman Says:

    First off, I thought girls didn’t poop, and second, I have far tooo many shit-hit-the-fan stories to pick just one.


  4. Tammy Says:

    When I saw the title, I was hoping it would be this classic story . . . Good times . . . Considering your husband’s role in this, I think you can cut him some slack on the Christmas tree thing.


    • reneadijab Says:

      I am aware of the irony of back-to-back stories about (a) what a hero my man is and (b) what a jerk he can be too. I really started to miss the old gang writing the poo story… those WERE good times.



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    […] but a website where you can read (and submit) funny, true stories. I had a story published there ( , a personal poop story, which I was inspired to submit due to a nearly-famous fart story that I […]

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