I'm lucky enough to have Author, Rhonda Louise guest post today. Read her fun post for a few giggles and laughs.
BOOKS AND BOWEL MOVEMENTS
My daughter and I go to the library once a fortnight and it is always both a delight and a cringe inducing, nauseatingly tortuous feat of stamina, strength and mental fortitude.
For some reason whenever we go to the library she poops her nappy. Every time.
Lying on the carpet in the kiddies corner on her back she kicks her legs in the air and waves a book over her head. And I think “awww, how cute”.
And then I see the book slowly list to one side as the stench emerges like napalm and settles across the entire library. And I think “awww how disgusting”.
As does everyone else in the trailer-home-like building that is our temporary local library. Which means, yep, you guessed it - no baby change facilities. No specially designed baby change bed, no disposable covers, no supply of Winnie the Pooh nappies and baby wipes, no soothing music and small box of Prozac.
In fact no toilets of any kind. Which means we must depart the building IMMEDIATELY.
I grab the Med-Evac kit, zip up my protective body suit and swing into action with the James Bond theme tune ringing in my ears. I whisk my child up with one arm and with the other I hurl her book onto the shelf where it falls in its perfect dewey-decimal location. I sprint past the fiction section, kicking away chairs and grannies that get in my way. And then I come to my nemesis: the newspaper table. That mother is so big it would take a month to go around. And we just don’t have time damn it! I take a running jump, leap onto a chair and sprint across the table, hopscotching into the gaps between the papers and mostly avoiding kicking people in the head.
I base jump off the table, hit the ground running and I’m by the front door. I ask the librarian to cover me as I hurl a book across the door to activate the automatic sensor. As the doors slide open, I do a roll thingy through them and I’m outside. I launch myself onto the handrail of the steps and slide down it, pressing the remote to my car en route and landing beside the open car door. I chuck my child onto the back seat, rip her revolting nappy off, ball it into a nappy bag and fling the whole thing over the nearest wall where it explodes harmlessly.
A quick wipe and the job is done. We stroll back into the library, acting like nothing has happened.
And although it is inconvenient, having to do this every fortnight, I actually don’t mind. Because I kind of know how my daughter feels. It’s just so fascinating - all those books to read and discover, all those words to be charmed and enchanted by, all those unknown worlds to inhabit and become immersed in, all those wonderful characters to befriend and happy endings to enjoy. To my daughter, being in a library is just so stimulating that she simply cannot control herself or her bowels.
I do hope it’s because of this and not because libraries just give her the sh*ts.
Which leads me nicely into a plug for my book– it’s called Wombat Sushi and it’s by me, Rhonda Louise. It’s about a dance troupe that goes to Japan with
hilarious and disastrous results. I hope it doesn’t give you the sh*ts. Great segue, huh? You can buy Wombat Sushi at Amazon or read it at Rhonda Louise’ website: www.rhondalouise.com. You can follow Rhonda Louise’ blog at www.wombatsushi.blogspot.com.