This past week was quite an adventure for our family. One of my 3 children had to undergo a substantial amount of lab work and testing at the doctor’s office. I was a stubborn relentless mother who was finally granted an appointment with a specialist after 3 months of bullshit diagnosis…and then, there we were.

Of course in order to get a better idea of what was going on with said child, there would be multiple tests involved.  Six vials of blood were to be taken, urine, X-rays and…a stool sample. Stool. Sample.  I heard it as the doctor was rattling off the 10 tests he would be ordering but it didn’t quite register.  Maybe I didn’t want it to register.  I had decided to remove it from my mind until further notice.

Nine tests and 30 impressively time efficient minutes later it hit me that the final test still remained. I stood in the cold silent waiting room feeling quite apprehensive. I slowly made my way to the sweet receptionist at the counter and nonchalantly whispered “what about the poo?” She smiled and said that the nurse would be right out to explain the process, and explain she certainly did!  3 bags, 2 plastic containers, 2 “smear” tabs (yes, I said smear) 1 conversation and 2 paragraphs of very detailed instructions.

I was to catch my child’s poo in one container, scoop out a small portion with a trusty versatile plastic spoon and place it into another container.  After the poo portioning, I was to “smear” 2 samples onto the tabs provided with the back of said spoon. Fabulous. Oh, and in case you were wondering, loose or watery stool would not be acceptable; great.  I wouldn’t know the consistency until I was already fully committed with my hands in position. Total crapshoot. The nurse then stressed the importance of freshness(within 2 hours) and that the sample must be kept on ice and transported in a cooler. With the poo instructions explained, It finally registered that I was to deliver a poop popsicle.  I was going to be a turd taxi.  Bag o’ fun in hand, the fortunate child and myself chuckled under our breaths as we made our way to the elevators.

The following morning my kid called to me from the facilities for poop assistance.  I knew in that moment that shit was about to get real…literally. Awkward as it was, everything was performed exactly as explained except for the fact that I adamantly refused to breathe through my nose. With the poop cadaver dissecting complete,  I placed the specimen in the fridge in a conspicuous brown paper bag.  This gave a whole new meaning to the term “brown bagging it.”

I knew that I needed to take the kids to school and immediately drop off the poopsicle afterwards. I placed the poo on ice and put it into a small cooler.  The poo had the privilege of riding shotgun in the minivan.

poop cooler


Upon arriving in front of the school and opening the doors, One child hollered “there is poop in the front seat!” I then very maturely put a stop to it by adding “I’m the turd taxi.”  Everyone laughed.  Kiss kiss, have a good day, and I was off to complete my mission.

Entering the lab with my brown bag in hand I politely said “I have gifts.” to which the receptionists both laughed and kept it discreet until the child at my side proclaimed “it’s not gifts! It’s poop! Poop,poop,poopy, poop, poop.” To which both lab technicians and the 6 grown adults in the waiting room all laughed aloud. I mean “poop” is a funny word and my kid was just saying what we were all thinking.

The stool sample was handed to the proper authorities and it was no longer my responsibility, however I have had to endure days of ridicule and torment from 3 pint sized hecklers which included clever name callings such as “turd toucher,” “poop painter,” being told that I drive a “log limo,” and my personal favorite, “poop lady.”

Just a word of caution for the poop newbie.  Obtaining a stool sample for a child is the parent’s job.  Of course we’ll gladly do it because we love our children, but all in all the simple fact is, it’s a shitty situation.

(This post originally ran on Happy and Humble.)

About the author: Sara is from sunny San Diego CA. She is a wife, busy mother of 3 and amateur chef stumbling through chaos on a daily basis using sarcasm and humor to stay sane. She will take any opportunity to demonstrate the running man in public and enjoys being a sarcastic smart ass. You can find her on her blog, on Facebook, Twitter and Google+.


Ok fine, we'll begrudgingly admit it. Sometimes people write great posts and don't run them on BLUNTmoms. But there's no reason why we can't share the content later, right? BLUNTGuests brings you some of the funniest, saddest, most heartwarming content from the internet that you might not have seen during its first run.


  1. Hahaha. I’m so sorry but your children are witty. I see future comedy writers. You’ll be rich.

  2. Oh my fucking god. I have a story that is so eerily similar to this, that you would die. I about choked on my pork taco reading this shit- hilarious. I also have a potty in the back of my mini van, so technically, my vehicle is a log limo as well! Ha!

  3. So funny! You were able to take a humiliating situation that many of us have shared and use it to bring smiles. The best part- “turd taxi”!

  4. Hilarious! Now I need not do my core exercises since I laughed through the whole thing!

  5. OMG!!! I almost peed in my pants this shit was hilarious. I can’t say I almost pooped in my pants because this shit was funny, I ‘d leave that up to my kid to doo-doo! Really enjoyed reading this post !

  6. Your article was the SHIT! Thank you for the laughter, fine use of alliteration, and of course the complex infographic. I love how it just says Poop with an arrow. You and your kids are seriously funny and I never want to collect a stool sample….EVER.

  7. I love this story. I will forever love this story. I actually told my husband about it.. he didn’t appreciate it as much because he was in the middle of his fave TV show, but I mean, how can you not laugh! I have a very recent poop story as well. I’m trying to decide how to right it without incriminating anyone.. but it’s the BEST.

  8. Pingback: Ode to a big-hearted husband - Dana Tye Rally

Write A Comment

Pin It