You know how sometimes you just click with a person you’ve never met and know very little about? Yeah. That’s me and Mommy, For Real‘s Stephanie. I can’t confidently say that she returns my feelings, but every time I read her work, I love her a little more. I completely identify with her as a woman and as a mother, and her writing is incredible; it’s the perfect mix of deep thoughts and off the hizzy-ness.
Off the hizzy: [his-ee]
adjective
Cool, hip, pleasantly surprising, awesome
Did you go to Sean’s party with fireworks, strippers, and tigers on chains?! It was OFF THE HIZZY!!!
Definition and example provided by Urban Dictionary.
I am honored that she has stooped to my level and provided a fantastic Oversharing story which, by the way, is the first of its kind. Rather than experience the following events first-hand, Stephanie became privy to the details after the fact. As parents, we can appreciate our children’s ability to humiliate us when we’re not even in the same room with them.
Several years ago, when my oldest daughter was 3 ½ and my youngest was just a gleam in my ovaries, we took a family vacation to Mexico. We had pretty high hopes that in addition to the sand-castle building and family frolicking, we’d get some quality adult time. With some (questionable) quality adult beverages. You see- we brought backup. To protect the innocent, I will refer to these “older family member vacation assistants” simply as Grammy and Papa.
One evening, my husband and I were given an incredible gift: our daughter would be having a sleep-over with Grammy and Papa, and we were free to dine alone, sleep late into the morning, and meet up with them the next day. High fives and Hallelujah!
I will spare you the details of our exquisite 15 hours of freedom, to prevent potential jealousy and subsequent hate mail. I will leave it at this: everyone should go to a beach resort without their kids, even for just one day. But, I digress.
When we met up with the grandparents the following day, Grammy regaled me with this story about their evening:
My young daughter, along with other members of our party, had been experiencing some, ahem, digestive adjustments, during our vacation. I mean, it was Mexico. That evening, Grammy was sitting on the toilet, doing her business, when my daughter barged into the hotel bathroom and informed her that she needed to poop. Immediately. “I can’t hold it Grammy,” she whimpered, “It needs to come out!” Grammy, always the obliging martyr, abandoned her post on the porcelain throne and generously stood by while her granddaughter barreled past her onto the toilet.
Nearly thirty minutes later (I have been assured that this is not an exaggeration) my daughter continued to sit on the toilet, swinging her legs during her leisurely defecation. Grammy stood hopelessly nearby, her undergarments pooling around her ankles, having not even been afforded the dignity of wiping herself before the young crap machine sat down.
My daughter stared up at her grandmother, all the while producing what I can only imagine was a grotesque amount of human waste. “Grammy,” she began slowly. “You have a furry bottom.” She continued her pontifications, stating, “Mommy also has a furry bottom, but yours is much, much furrier.”
I am unclear as to how Grammy maintained her composure during these detailed observations, particularly when she was in such a tragic state of partial undress, and likely rather uncomfortable after her aborted bathroom endeavor.
When I heard this story, after recovering from hysterical laughter, my first thought was, “Well, at least my regular bikini waxes are worth something- the difference in the spectrum of “furriness” was not lost on my preschooler!” Grammy, however, has subsequently began to practice the “60 year old bikini wax” before going on vacation. This practice consists of, in her words, “A pair of scissors and a pile of pubic hair.” Hopefully next time, her granddaughter will be more complimentary when referring to her well-groomed “bottom.”
Stephanie Sprenger’s furry bottom is a music therapist, writer, blogger, and mother of two young girls. She is also the co-founder of The HerStories Project (http://www.herstoriesproject.com), a website dedicated to finding friendship, staying sane, and reinventing yourself during new motherhood. [Editor’s note: FANTASTIC endeavor and site–get clicky with it.] In her spare time, Stephanie is often singing at the piano while being climbed on by a toddler, or typing frantically while swigging wine or coffee, depending on the time of day. Her blog is Mommy, for Real (http://www.stephaniesprenger.com) and you can find her spewing parental angst on FB here: (http://www.facebook.com/mommyforreal)
Hey you, wanna submit your Oversharing tale to the Oversharing: I Ain’t Scarrred series?! Click HERE and make it happen, cap’n!
Wow. I’m traumatized. But I appreciate your sharing.
Well, you can officially state, for the record, that I enthusiastically return your feelings! I love you big, and thanks for giving me the honor of sharing my story about poop and pubic hair, and still loving me. Or maybe loving me even more for it. At any rate- thanks, friend! xo
This is the BEST post ever! (As someone who has a bit of a furry bottom myself) – I am glad that I am not prepared for what is to come!! Thank you for the post!!
Ha! Glad to be of service! 😉
WOW. Oversharing Series has just been launched into the stratosphere. Poor Grammy. Was I the only one getting mental pictures that I have to brillo out of my brain now?
Poor Grammy indeed. :/
Notice: Stephanie Sprenger and her furry bottom has won the internet today. BA HA HA! Poor Grammy! Kids and the things they force grown-ups to go through: priceless!
Did I mention that I love oversharing?????
Hee hee.. Thank you, thank you very much! Glad you liked this one Sarah… You set the Oversharing Bar high, my friend! 😉
HAHAHA! Love it! Sweets, my 4 year old, has also commented on my “hairy butt” (and I’ve got to say, Furry Bottom sounds so. much. better.) but has not had the opportunity to compare it to my mom’s. She does like to tell people that when she “is grown” she is going to “have a hairy butt like my mommy.” At least she is proud….
That is so awesome, Christine! Yes, “furry bottom” is somehow refined by comparison! 😉
Poor Grammy!! To have to stand by for 30 MINUTES because of your “aborted bathroom endeavor”. I was uncomfortable just reading about it. So, so funny!!
I know- she is a true martyr. I would’ve been like, “Pull a “Bridesmaids” in the sink, kid.”
Haha! Personally I can’t see a problem with oversharing. The torture my kids put me through certainly warrants some payback. Great post!
Cheers to that!
A friend’s little one once commented on her grammy’s “whiskies” while in the bathroom and compared them to the dad’s facial “whiskies” aka whiskers. The ladies in the adjacent stalls about died!
No! Whiskies! And in a public restroom! That is the best thing ever…
Whiskies! BAHAHAA!
I want to leave a thoughtful and witty comment, but I’m too exhausted from crying and choking over “a pair of scissors and a pile of pubic hair.” You almost killed me, and I mean that in the best way.
Oh, now THAT comment makes me proud. Thanks Amy! 😀
OMG OMG OMG OMG…this is great. Kids are awesome. My son has commented on my hair and said he couldn’t see my penis. I replied that mommy’s don’t have penises and he was happy with that answer…phew.
He couldn’t see your penis- ha! That made me snort. And yeah, kids are awesome…
When Allie was 3 she asked why Daddy had a stick between his legs. I think your mom had a much worse experience.
A stick! These comments are killing me! Yeah, my poor mom. She deserves an award ceremony.
OMG, I’m DYING!!!! That’s HILARIOUS!!! And so something that would happen over here.
FYI – we just went away with my mother. Best way to vacation when you have kids. 🙂 What’s even better is that my daughter didn’t have to see my mother’s hairy bottom.
HA!
OK you convinced me–I am NEVER going to take my granddaughter into a hotel bathroom with me again….especially if I have eaten a lot of fiber that day….
Oh my gosh I’m dying over here!! That was hysterical!! I’m waiting for the day one of my boys comes in and says, “Wait, didn’t you just have hair there yesterday?”
Vicky