It’s Not All Mary Poppins

A perfectly sh*tty gift. Or is that p*ssy?


Are those what you think they are?

Yes. Yes, they are. Just when you thought potty-training had quite enough potential for farce, some marketer (in Sweden, I think), decides that what’s required are MODELS of the excrement in question. PLUSH, CUDDLY models. Because lord only knows I want MY toddler snuggling shit. Yes, indeedy.

“Their friendly personalities and plush exterior will help your child be more comfortable with the potty training experience” says the cheery blurb under this product.

Note to writers of script: “Comfortable”? Not to worry! Toddlers have NO PROBLEM with their bodily functions. None! Not the teeniest smidgen. Excrement is FUN STUFF.

Just watch toddlers when one among them produces their noisome output. They GATHER ROUND. Gather round, discuss, note the odor (with varying degrees of exaltation), the colour, the size. “Dat’s a BIG, stinky poo, Timmy!” “YEAH!”)

They do not need their output turned into soft and scent-free versions of reality (which they probably won’t recognize anyway — because, hey, it’s SUPPOSED to be stinky). These are the people, you recall, who can poke their wee button noses into a potty filled with urine, in which floats an arc-shaped sausage of shit and declare that they’ve produced a “rainbow”. Comfortable? No worries there! They’ve got that whole “comfort” thing nailed. Really!

Other sellers talk about “overcoming taboos”, and again, I’m saying “Taboos? TABOOS? Have these people never spent actual in-real-life time with a real-life toddler?” There are NO SHIT TABOOS among toddlers. Nor pee ones. One might hope, but they DO NOT EXIST. These people (toddlers are people, too) have been known to fingerpaint with the stuff. (Kind of gross people, bytimes, but people.)

Even those who don’t get that up close and personal with it will peer right down into the bowl to marvel over their production — and expect mom and dad to do likewise. Maybe even do a little song and dance number with them. So, no taboos, either. Nuh-uh!

So, really? Plush poo-plops and pretty pee-drops serve no viable potty-training purpose. And come on. Do you really, really want to encourage your tots to become attached to their excrement? Aren’t there enough children out there hollering, “Don’t FLUSH it, mommy! It’s MINE!!!” without us encourage further emotional bonding with the stuff?

And what, pray tell, if little Joey decides that THIS toy will become his lovie? What if he has to take Mr. Plop with him no matter where he goes? What if wee Felicity develops an urgent fondness for Ms. Piss? Do you really want one of those sitting on the table at the restaurant, lest someone throw a shit (or would that be “pissy”) fit? What if you have to have two or three of these around the house at all times, in case one is lost? Can’t you just picture your grandmother sitting down on one, left behind and partially hidden in the couch cushion? Gives a whole new meaning to “anal retentive”, doesn’t it? Or “feeling pissy”, come to that…

So, no. Not for the children. Please.

But for the beleaguered parent, they might have their uses. A little comic relief, perhaps. Or, when the stress of the whole potty experience becomes too great, maybe you could whip Ms. Piss across the room, or pummel Mr. Plop.

And you can be SURE your child-free friends and relations will think these things are the funniest damned things ever to give to the harrassed, potty-stressed parent.

So, you parents of potty-training tots: Have you seen the last of these things? Not likely. Consider yourselves warned.

November 21, 2008 Posted by | eeewww, Mischief, potty tales, random and odd | , , , , , , | 9 Comments