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Stillwater Gazette: April 12, 2016

Are you 4 years old? Forty-four years old? Do you like to talk about poop? Come on, admit it. Poop is a little bit funny isn’t it?

Two years ago we went on vacation to Jamaica. My son, who was 2 at the time, had just learned how to use the toilet three weeks before we left the country. In Jamaica, we stayed in the Port Antonio area, which is not a major tourist destination. The people are charming, but the town and everything in it — sidewalks, streets and buildings — are slowly crumbling to the ground. Needless to say, there are no public restrooms. The only part of town in good condition is a short stretch of tree-lined boulevard along a new marina built a few years back. So, of course, that is where I found myself propping Charlie up while he pooped behind a bougainvillea while my husband was off buying fried chicken for lunch and a trio of Jamaicans sitting under a nearby gazebo in the rain pretended not to notice. Our predicament was already barely tolerable, and then 30 school children in uniforms rounded the corner, spotted us and shrieked with laughter.

“No, no mama. You can’t let your baby poop there!”

Continue reading this article at the Stillwater Gazette.