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Don’t Touch Brown Coral

My daughter picked up a human shit on the beach. Yep. Ya’ read it right. We had just arrived at our relaxing island destination for vacation. Our room wasn’t ready yet, so we decided to go exploring. Mike and I were strolling along an absolutely pristine beach, hand in hand, the sun was setting, our children were splashing in the ocean. We gave each other a little squeeze that said, “We are seriously amaaaazing parents. Like this isn’t even hard. They are so lucky to have us.”

Suddenly, we overheard one of our older daughters telling her little sister to pick up a beautiful piece of “brown coral” as a souvenir. I felt like I was watching myself in slow motion as I tilted my head and started running, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” It was too late. My kid was clutching a turd. She started screaming and flung it down. Mike instantly grabbed her and threw her in the ocean, emptying an entire bottle of pocket hand sanitizer.

Our two other spawn were doubled over laughing hysterically. I hissed, “KNOCK.IT.OFF” to no avail. They were done for, tears pouring down their punk faces, unable to even move. In all fairness, I would have been the same exact way, except I happened to be ‘mom’ in this situation. I found some barnacle shell thing and scooped up the lone deuce, cheerfully floating along, blissfully unaware of the mayhem it caused.

Mike was still dunking our kid in the water, waiting for my analysis of the specimen. “Yep, this here is definitely human!” Mike paled, whistled loudly and yelled, “EVERYBODY OUT OF THE OCEAN. REPEAT GET OUT OF THE OCEAN. THE OCEAN IS NOW CLOSED. FOREVER!” A voice hollered, “IS THERE A SHARK?” Mike replied, “NO. MUCH WORSE. THERE IS A HUMAN SHIT ON THE LOOSE!” (Everyone tears from the water, clutching their children, terror in their eyes.)

The smell violently assaulted my unsuspecting olfactory senses as I slowly made my way up the beach to dispose of the ass-rocket balancing on a shell. I wouldn’t necessarily say I am a hero, but I am totally a hero. Conveniently, I walked right by a beautiful, classy blonde woman sunning herself in a lawn chair. She sweetly said in an exquisite southern accent, “There are all sorts of pretty critters out there, what’d y’all catch?” I stared at her and calmly said, “A poop. We caught a poop. It’s a human one.” “A whhhhhhaaaaaa? A poo you say? Oh Dear Gawd. Sweet Jesus.” (Starts fanning herself and blindly reaches for her cup of Tang.)

I carefully tossed Mr. Grumpy into the bushes and made my way back down to family. As any skilled psychologist will attest, when a family unexpectedly holds a human poop, this will evoke a wide range of emotions. Shock had now been replaced by anger.

“Mom- I swear I thought brown coral was a real thing. I was trying to be nice to her!” “Really? Lying is definitely not one of your stronger skills. Consider this in case you decide to give it another whirl sometime in your life.” (But like seriously, she straight-up convinced her sister to pick up a piece of shit. Kiiiind of awesome. Truthfully, I don’t worry about this one. The kid is totally going places.) However, I was so annoyed in this particular moment, I honestly don’t know if I would have peed on any of them if they got stung by a jellyfish.

Anyhow, after “the incident” everything went great by my lowly standards. The majority of us were on our periods, one kid got a mosquito bite on her eye and it swelled shut right before family pictures, another one swam into the side of the pool and jacked up her nose, Mike inexplicably started mumbling incoherently on Day 5, I backed the golf cart into a tree, and Mike graciously informed me I “look great for someone your age who has had kids” after I put on a swimsuit.

I am already looking forward to next year. XO

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