Not all poop is bad because you can look at it more than one way and even though you might not want to…you should.

July 10, 2013 in Me and My Public Self,The Very Few Times I'll Admit to Having a Soul

Can you talk about poop too much?  Probably.

But can “I” talk about poop too much?  Never.

At home, it’s a daily topic.  Nothing too detailed, just who did and who didn’t.  And who needs to.  And who should.

And who shouldn’t.

(At least not when another breathing human is home.)

And at work.  The two work sisters and I discuss poop.  Good poop.  Bad poop.  Political poop.  Celebrity poop.  Co-worker poop.  It just comes up.

And so poop brings me to pee.

Which is what I spent a good portion of the day in last Sunday.

Long story short, we had out-of-town friends who are really more like out-of-town family stay the weekend with us.

(Devin, my amazingly fabulous friend from high school and her fam, plus a long-time friend and his son.)

And when you come to the Hill Country of Texas on vacation, you float in pee.

Or the Comal River.  With lots and lots of people.

(And with people…you have pee.)

You can just bring your cooler with your beer or water or cake icing or frozen adult capri sun drinks or chips or chicken legs and just bobble right on down the river for hours.

Hours.

(Yep.  All that stuff has been in my cooler on the river at one time or another.)

(And if you’ve never gripped a canister of Betty Crocker chocolate icing and spooned a shovel of it down your Dorito-chute while marinating in river water…don’t be judging.)

Here’s me and a crispy chicken leg in all our glory a few years ago:

Chicken Leg

(I apparently have no shame.)

(Or french fries.)

Anyway.

We loaded up the cars and headed to the river.  Just us and about 100,000 other floaters.  All of us just one big happy floating family.

(Kinda.  Or not so much.  Lots of jackasses.  Lots.  Me not being one this time.)

(Annnnd maybe I did some jackass judging.  Along with Devin, my amazingly fantastic friend from high school.)

(Cause you know, that’s what high school girls do and when we’re together we revert right back to high school.  We jackass judge.  Cause anyone who is acting like a jackass should be judged like a jackass.)

(And because there are some who just should not be in a string bikini.  Me being one.  And because there are some who just should not be in a speedo-looking flap of cloth.  Anybody I know being one.)

After about 2 hours of floating and judging…we swamped it on back to the cars and headed home.

Pooped.

(There’s that word again.)

And then there’s pre-pooped.

Which is what I am here with my little sweet Savannah who’s momma (Devin, my amazingly fantastic friend from high school) says could possibly be my child if she didn’t remember the labor pains so much because the child has my redhair and feels there isn’t enough bling in the world.

(Why, yes.  Maybe she IS mine.  And having that sweet little southern girl name, Savannah, certainly doesn’t hurt.)

Me and Savannah

(She’s eating a Pepperoni Lunchable.  Another strong clue she could be mine.)

The whole weekend, Savannah and I threatened to paint the all boys toenails bright red while they slept and I taught her to sing-song “that’s creeeeeeeeepy” in a very high-piched voice to most anything we saw that was funny.

Or not funny.

(I’m quite sure it made for a memorable 5-hour drive back home for the rest of the fam.)

Which leads me to this:

When you get a text from friends of well over 30 years saying they’re going to stay at your place…that makes you a part of their family vacation.  And a part of their memories.  And a part of their “remember when” chats.  And a part of their pictures.

And a part of their family.

And you know you must’ve done something right along the way in life to warrant such a feel-good thing.

Because when you’re pooped from being around those who choose to let you be a part of so much love and so many laughs and so much pure goodness and so many family memories, you’ve done something right somewhere.

And that, my friends, is really good poop.

Stelly Crew

Savannah

{ 18 comments }

Devin Stelly July 10, 2013 at 1:02 pm

We love you Aunt Carrie! Car ride back wasn’t too “Creeeeeeeeeeepy”, it made us laugh everytime it was said and think of our amazingly wonderful friend/Aunt. Thanks for the memories. By the way, I’m sure I will be forwarding Miss “Bling goes with everything Mom” to you in a few years! Mom is not so Blingy.

Carrie July 10, 2013 at 1:38 pm

HAHA! I’m sure after the first 17 miles of “that’s creeeeeepy!” I was cursed. As I should have been.

That blingy babe has a spot in my heart forever! Send her anytime!

katie metzroth July 10, 2013 at 1:43 pm

how cute is she?!? no wonder you’re trying to lay claim to her….and I can tell by the pictures that she’s charming, smart and witty too. just like her Aunt Carrie.
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Carrie July 10, 2013 at 1:52 pm

Girl, she IS! And has her big brother wrapped around her finger like you wouldn’t believe. Almost had him convinced red toenail polish would look good on him!

=)

Adelyn July 10, 2013 at 3:54 pm

OMG…that trip down the river looks amazing. I think. Or I was just drooling over the thought of fried chicken, Doritos, and icing. All. While. In. Water. Awesomeness right there, my friend. Awesomeness.
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Carrie July 10, 2013 at 6:21 pm

It is pretty awesome. Especially when you have a great group of friends with you…which is the perfect thing to make anything better.

Even floating in pee. =)

Amanda July 10, 2013 at 5:24 pm

Dang, Carrie! I got all excited about a post all about poop! We talk about poop ALL THE TIME up here! Being the only girl in a house full of boys, that tends to happen only those boys go into much more detail and there’s a rating system and… well… I’m still a girl, dangit!!

That little Savannah is PRECIOUS!!! And she’s right. There can never be too much bling!!
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Carrie July 10, 2013 at 6:22 pm

Sister, I KNOW in a house of boys…your poop talk is highly detailed. I can onnnnnly imagine.

Savannah is a big ball of bling….that is one sweet little girl. She gives us redheads a good name.

=)

Jef July 10, 2013 at 6:43 pm

That was pooptastic, Carrie!
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Carrie July 10, 2013 at 7:44 pm

Jef, you have such a way with words. A FABULOUS WAY WITH WORDS!!

You’re the man.

Chrissy July 10, 2013 at 7:03 pm

Miss Carrie, that was a great float (chicken and all).. We were floating the Guadalupe horseshoe on Sunday also with friends from out of town.. It’s hard to not notice those “people” that are wearing the wrong size swimsuit …
I wore my string bikini hoping no one would notice…. But evidently you saw me.. ha ha :)

Carrie July 10, 2013 at 7:46 pm

You wore your string bikini, too?!?

Girl, I know you better than that…no way, no how. You have much more class.

Which is totally what so many out there were missing. Well, class and cloth.

Lisa Hewitt July 10, 2013 at 9:31 pm

I missed the bat wing post! I can’t float down a river – snakes.

Carrie July 11, 2013 at 7:50 am

Snakes?!? Well, THAT never crossed my mind at the time! Whoa.

Maggie S. July 11, 2013 at 7:28 am

What a doll baby! She looks like a lot of fun. You should get one. My cousin’s daughter was born when her son was 15. She’s turning 7 this year. I think that sounds like a really good idea for you!!!

Because you don’t have enough people telling you that kind of crap, right now.
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Carrie July 11, 2013 at 7:51 am

HAHA!! Maggie, you are SO right.

“Are y’all gonna have kids?” HELL TO THE NO. I just borrow one every now and then, get my fill of hugs and giggles and send’em on back home.

It’s actually a pretty good gig.

Jennifer July 11, 2013 at 12:54 pm

David has been to float the river one time. Yes. One. He started thinking about all of the pee and I haven’t been able to get him to go back. The river self-filters David. Sheesh.
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Carrie July 11, 2013 at 1:09 pm

I NEVER think about it. You can’t. It’s too much fun.

It is what it is, but Keith had a hard time getting past it.

Weenie.

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