Story: The Pooper

Seven days ago, I discovered my super power. Now, nobody will talk to me. Everyone has a super power, or at least wishes he did. Mine happens to be the ability to control other people’s bowels. At will, I can give people explosive diarrhea or make them horribly constipated. It’s a wonderful thing. Evidently, though, with my temper, it can be dangerous – and messy.

My wife left me. And she left behind the two-year-old, arguing that if I’ve got this great control over other people’s sphincters, I should use it to potty train my kid. I told her to stop cooking burritos and baked beans every day and maybe he’d stand a chance. She harumphed at me so I sent her running to the can. She barely made it. I laughed.

My dad called and asked if I could do something about his damn constipation. I explained I couldn’t do anything over the phone, that it had to be in person. I guess my wife overheard this as she came out of the bathroom. Five minutes later she was backing out of the driveway with our elder kid. I went outside to ask her where the hell she thought she was going and what I was supposed to do for dinner. She just smiled at me and said, “The dog dug another hole in the yard. Don’t get too upset at him.”
And then she drove off.

I decided to go for a jog, but the two-year-old was so whiny that I kept looking for people to take my frustration out on. I passed one neighbor who was pulling into her driveway, and when she blocked the sidewalk with her car to say hello, I looked at her, pictured Niagara Falls in brown, and smiled as her face looked suddenly shocked and she abruptly said goodbye and sped ahead.

By the time I got home from my jog – during which I had to pick up after the dog five times because he kept dawdling and I told him to hurry, apparently speaking to his bowels and not his legs – my wife had evidently called our neighbors to tell them of my power, and these neighbors all felt it necessary to call me and leave me messages kindly requesting that I stay home and avoid their presence if I’m upset. Well, leaving me messages like that will certainly make me upset, so I don’t know what they were thinking.
I got to work late the next day, since I was suddenly responsible for dropping the two-year-old off at day care, and I have no idea what stupid routine my wife has for him, and I can barely understand him when he starts having a tantrum and half-cries his two-word sentences. His teacher finally calmed him down so I could race across town and get to work ten minutes late for a meeting, only to discover the kid had slobbered all over my shirt, which I guess covered up the fact that it was wrinkled since the bitch didn’t bother to iron my shirt before she left.

All week, I suspected my boss was going to fire me, but he never got a chance because every time he came near me, I sent him to the crapper.

So instead he fired me by email.

That was three days ago. I haven’t left the house since.

I decided to take my wife’s suggestion and potty train the kid, which has been working as long as he’s in the same room as me. Every time I leave him alone for too long, he craps in his pants.

So now I’m getting pissed at myself for wanting this damn power, since it keeps backfiring, and that’s bad. I just have to figure out how to lighten up long enough to make it out to Target for more diapers and toilet paper.