I was just catching up on a few friend blogs and when I read this one by my friend Jamie, I had to chuckle. Every parent has a good story or two and I’ve managed to keep one of our best/worst under wraps, generally speaking, for nearly a decade. But some stories beg to be told for posterity and I fear this is one of them. Oh the training this child came with! The lesson of this story is never underestimate what your child can pick up from movies nor the influence it can impart.

My daughter, Cid was a rather precocious and mischievous toddler. Her days were all about repetition of her favorite movie, game, or activity and of course a generous sprinkling of mischief throughout. When she wasn’t spilling uncooked spaghetti on the floor or painting herself and her cousin in peanut butter, she might be found dusting her room and cousin in Comet cleaner and using a full length mirror as a slippery slide. Or better yet, going for multiple bathroom makeovers with all of mom’s makeup or my chatting buddies all time favorite - buttering the dog! Oh the memories! But I digress.

One morning she toddled into the living room with her big tin box full of play dough and old kitchen items. She sat down, like every other morning, ready to play and watch Elmo. Except this morning she lifted the lid and quickly closed it. She turned to me and stated with perfect clarity:

“I didn’t poop in the box.”

Crap. (Little did I know how literally!) The rest of the conversation went something like this:

Mom: “Cidnie, open the box.”

Cid: “No thank you.”

Mom: “Cidnie.”

Cid: “Nope.”

Mom: (clearing throat and meanicing a wicked mom raised brow) “Cidnie, open that box now.”

Cid: “Okay.” (lifts the lid and turns and drops her head)

Inside the otherwise empty box was a single turd, perfectly positioned alone in the middle of the box. It couldn’t have been very old either.

Now, for those inexperienced in the parenting curve, let me explain the great quandary in this moment. It is one of the most difficult and truest tests for any parent. You see, your first reaction is critical. It sets not only the tone but the ultimate lesson the child will remember regardless of what you say later. Control is crucial, but the element of surprise is against you. It’s an internal war zone.

In my case, I was immediately inundated with two equally strong impulses: 1) laughter and 2) the vomit reflex. I credit the incredible shock of the situation for the necessary self control in the moment to simply look at my daughter, tell her we never poop in boxes all while making a mad dash with the box to bathroom where I could safely close the door to address both initial reactions.

With the vile thing flushed, box soaking in Clorox and face cleared of any trace of laughter’s tears, I collected myself to return and question my two and a half year old. She sat frozen to the floor in the same place and position as when I left, clearly waiting for the worst.

I asked her what on earth possessed her to poop in a box. Her response was as instant as it was innocent:

“It’s funny mom, like Dumb and Dumber.”

Now, for anyone who has skillfully avoided this most stellar movie *cough, cough* the reference my daughter is making is a cross between a scene where one character pees in empty beer bottles while driving, and another scene where the other has a disastrous diarrhea blowout in a broken toilet.

I called my husband at work. I told him his movie Dumb and Dumber had been permanently shelved. He asked why and I replied that it might have something to do with the fact that his daughter just pooped in a box and said it was funny like the movie. His immediate response of laughter rivaled his reaction to that stupid broken toilet scene, which incidentally made anyone near him consider the need for mouth to mouth resuscitation. And so Dumb and Dumber left my house that day never to return, although the smart little cross reference spirit remains just as vibrant today as she was nearly ten years ago!