This entry at the newly resurrected Suburban Blight reminded me of a conversation I had with my mother about a year ago.
Me: By the way, I’ve always wanted to thank you for not being one of those mothers who apparently obsess about their children’s shit.
Mom: You’re welcome.
Me: I’ve heard some weird stuff about parents in the 60s and 70s who had very specific ideas about how often their kids should take a crap, and when. Eek.
Mom: It was even worse in the 30s and 40s—believe me. They used to give kids enemas if they didn’t shit at the right intervals.
Me: How did you cope?
Mom: I learned to lie.
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