One morning I got up, stretched my sleepy body, rubbed the eye boogers away, and made my way towards the potty. I was fuzzy-headed from my eight hours, but the fog cleared quickly as I walked into my little white and blue bathroom. I hesitated at the door. It stunk something bad in there. Like a fart or an asshole or morning breath or something. I looked towards the toilet and found the source of the stench. There lay a huge, long, thick turd curled up like a water hose. No toilet paper. Just the turd. Weird. Who took a huge dump in the middle of the night... and didn’t wipe?
Now, I will be honest. I instantly thought I was the criminal. I take Ambien on a regular basis to help me sleep, and Ambien has been proven to make you do crazy things while you are sedated. I remember waking up next to a box of crackers one time after taking Ambien. C took Ambien one night and I found him outside, naked, calling for our dog (who was in the house). One night my husband and I both took the sleeping medicine, and I woke up the next day with a vibrator in my bed and C said something about his asshole hurting? Neither of us had a clue of what transpired during our Ambien haze. I digress.
Anyways, I thought it was very possible that the Ambien could have caused me to do something as humiliating as taking a dump in my toilet, forgetting to wipe, then taking my shitty ass back to bed to sleep it off. I checked my underwear. No problems there. Checked the bedsheets. No evidence there. I was really starting to get puzzled. So then I started thinking about when I last took a dump (sidenote: you know you are having a fucked up morning if, within the first ten minutes of waking, you are trying to figure out the exact date and time of your last bowel movement). I somehow remembered that I did go to the bathroom the day before, not long before going to bed. It couldn’t be possible to take two huge dumps hours apart. Could it?
So after some initial investigating, I ruled out the possibility that I was the culprit. It just didn’t add up. Unfortunately, this still left me with the Mystery Shit puzzle. I decided that the plans I had for the day had to be put aside until I figured this out. Mystery Shit took the highest priority. After I flushed the toilet and relieved myself, that is.
After doing some serious critical thinking, I discovered that I only had two possible suspects: my red-headed son or my huge Great Dane. The hubby was not a suspect because he was working the entire night before; therefore, he was not available to lay the log. I quickly ruled out my son. The boy is forty pounds soaking wet, and that turd probably weighed five. There was no way something that huge could have came from a kid. Just to be sure, I asked the boy about it, and (cause little boys are known to be liars) I checked his underwear, too. No track marks. That left only one suspect: Jack, the Great Dane.
Now it took some serious thinking on my part to convince myself that Jack took a shit in the toilet; however, significant evidence pointed to him being the one who did so. Facts that I considered were:
- There was no toilet paper in the commode. Dogs don’t wipe their asses.
- Jack loved to sit on things. Chairs, people’s legs, coffee tables. I found out that it is characteristic of a Great Dane. I even found pictures of this on the internet (see below).
- Jack had recently taken an interest in my bathroom activities. Whenever I went to the bathroom, he followed me in there. He always got a very curious look on his face as I sat on the toilet. I am assuming his canine nose clued him on what I was doing while on the commode.
After several hours of contemplating the situation and the corresponding evidence, I reached a tremendous conclusion. Mystery Shit case solved. I had a Great Dane named Jack that took a shit in my toilet. No shit. (Pun intended).
CURRENTLY LISTENING TO:
Divine by Mistake by P.C. Cast