Read Online Just a Couple of Days by Tony Vigorito - Free Book Online Page A

with her, though not because anyone was concerned about her cognitive development. She was clearly advanced in that regard. Rather, we were relieved that she simultaneously relaxed her somewhat unsettling habit of listening attentively to whatever an adult might be saying, and then invariably answering “Gardyloo!” while pointing and giggling. She had a disarming ability to make one feel utterly foolish with this pronouncement.
    Sophia explained that she was partially to blame for this, as she was the one who taught her the word. It was, as I’ve said, Dandy’s first “real” word, and the only one she used until she was three. Gardyloo, Sophia explained, was an expression common
in some towns of medieval Europe. It was hollered out one’s window just before heaving one’s pail of piss or bucket of shit into the street below, for that was the extent of indoor plumbing in those days.
    â€œThat was Dandy’s first word?” I asked.
    â€œShe learned it when she was being potty-trained. I always said it when we flushed the toilet.”
    â€œBut we think she extended the meaning to when she thinks we’re full of crap,” Blip added, lifting Dandy onto his shoulders.
    â€œHardly complimentary.”
    Sophia shrugged. “That plumbing detail is often missed in historians’ accounts of the plagues that swept through Europe in the Middle Ages. They were wading through their own sewage, and blaming their sickness on witchcraft. Anyone who tried to reason otherwise was burned at the stake for heresy.”
    â€œYou say that like they were a bunch of shitwits and we’re so much more advanced,” Blip challenged her. “We have toilets that flush now. So what? We still eat, drink, and breathe our own pollution and wonder why we get cancer.”
    â€œActually,” I couldn’t resist debating, “some of the most current research is suggesting that genetics plays a large role in causing cancer. It’s often very difficult to demonstrate environmental influences.”
    â€œWhat does it matter if there are genetic factors?” Sophia dismissed my comment. “Those are only predispositions that would decrease as the environment became more pristine. And what’s the point of that line of research anyway? Are we trying to alter our genes so we’ll be able to live in our own shit without getting sick?”
    I fell silent, Blip laughed, and Dandy answered for everyone. “Gardyloo.”
    Â 
    23 While I am on the topic of excrement, it’s worth mentioning that Blip and Sophia were quite fond of their own. They went so far as to save it, compost it, and fertilize their organic garden with the fruits of their rectums. Their commode was a composting toilet. I, however, was forbidden from contributing to their fecal fund. They had a second toilet connected to a septic tank for guests such as me.
    â€œIt’s an
organic
garden,” Blip explained gently to me one afternoon in their kitchen. “And I’ve seen the food you eat. We only eat pure, organic foods. Humans are at the top of the food chain, and the toxins we dump in our rivers and spray on our plants and inject into our animals eventually work their way back to us in the food we eat. That’s why our fertilizer has to be organic. otherwise we’d be cycling the toxins through ourselves. I hate to tell you, but human shit is the most toxic shit of any species in the world.”
    â€œOur poop doesn’t stink,” Sophia quipped. “Which is not to say that we think we’re something special.”
    â€œWe’re not hot shit,” Blip added.
    â€œAnd we’re not full of shit either,” Sophia continued. “You can take that figuratively or literally. I poop three times a day. Gardyloo hooray!”
    â€œMe too,” said Blip. “And it’s easy, clean, and has a pungent, earthy fragrance. If your shit stinks to high heaven,