There are not many people who can poop on me whom I will still want back. Today, sitting at Olive Garden I noticed some brown on my white linen pants. I thought, “Oh bummer, my soup spilled.”
The food was delicious. I love their salad and minestroni soup. Yum. People say that the Olive Garden salad is the healthy food that really isn’t healthy and I believe them. Especially because I always eat like it’s a challenge. As if this may be the last salad I’ll get for weeks or perhaps I’m being filmed and about to get a prize for eating so much salad.
We were there with family, including my nieces and parents. You may remember my youngest niece who was born premature and damaged, yet dominated the NICU at UCSD with her rapid developing health. Remember how loopy I am over the perfect white and soft nape of her neck? Well she is about one and a half years old now, weeble wobbles all over the place, and she loves me. She really loves me. I have thought that perhaps she may know something the rest of the bozos around are missing and I quietly congratulate her often.
Today, of course she wanted me. We sat and snuggled and she gave me the ultimate compliment of letting me feed her. After her third visit, and the fact that the brown spots on my pants kept reappearing, I finally let the truth sink in as well. I had been pooped on.
After three babies of my own, anyone would think I should have known better, or perhaps been less repulsed. But let me tell you thinkers. I was so grossed out. It was all of me not to lose my salad.
We all got cleaned up. Mostly of course. FYI – it’s not that easy to get poop out of linen in a public bathroom. I was given lots of space by everyone thereafter. Except from my niece. Yes. She was back. And yes. I wanted her.
Now, how to get a self-care nugget out of this? Bring a change of clothes wherever you go and let love come. Even when you get pooped on.