UPDATED: Just another poop story to complete your day. You are welcome.

It seems like everyone has a poop story. Like my friend Handflapper whose hubby’s shitcapades resembles my own hubby’s, or DMTFace who knows her triggers and embraces them. WE ALL HAVE THEM and they are funny as hell to share. I enjoy a good poop story, really I do.

Lucky for me, I have two such stories. Coincidentally, as noted above, one just happens to resemble Flappy’s a little too eerily, so I’ll save that one for another day… but my second one just makes me giggle uncontrollably, and it’s one I have shared REPEATEDLY for 15 years.

Yup. 15 years. It was a long time ago. Doesn’t make the story any less hilarious to me, however.

Have I mentioned to you before that I am a twin?

(Male Readers: Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s a boy. Ruined that one for you didn’t I?)

Growing up we were pretty much enemies. In fact, we were so competitive with one another that there was an incident in the middle of the night where I was getting kicked out of the house by my parents and he was yelling “I get her stereo”. That’s love I tell ya. (I must add that while dramatic at the time, my parents and I have gotten over this incident.)

But I digress…

My twin wasn’t what you would call socially accepted. He tried, but the darn little guy just wouldn’t grow. I think he was 4’8 in Grade 10. He’s 6’1 now, but back then it sure was fun to traumatize him with his shortness. And his lazy eye. And his buck teeth. I could go on… but I have some compassion. Some. A little bit.

One day he was talking on the phone to a ‘buddy’ and was passing gas like a 50 yr old trucker who ate beans for a week. I just happened to be in the kitchen at the time, and made it pretty clear that I wouldn’t be eating for a week after having to smell the carnage coming from his ass. Quickly, he said good bye to his friend, put down the phone, turned, and ran his short little ass to the laundry room yelling “That was no fart….”

Curiosity got the best of me, and I followed him.

What I saw next is imprinted on my brain and will remain there for the rest of my life. First, because this story will forever be shared to anyone who will listen, but secondly because it was fucking awful.

My poor, socially unaccepted, short and buck toothed twin brother was sprawled helplessly on the laundry room floor with his pants down around his ankles… COVERED IN SHIT.

True Story.

His future wife will be told this story on their wedding night. Just to serve as a warning of course. And maybe so I can laugh about it one more time.

See? We're the Sedin Twins. Get it?

  UPDATE: So it appears I have more than two poop stories. I am not ashamed.