“Measure your poop, write it on a paper, and bring it in next class to turn in for homework,” my professor told us in my Medical Terminology class.
One girl raised her hand.
“…But…do we have to?”
“How do you measure it?” he asked, clarifying her question.
“Yes, how are you supposed to measure a poop?”
“I don’t want anybody getting out gloves. Just tell me if it floats or sinks, about what the diameter is, the length, the color, the consistency.” There was a pause and then he added, “But don’t make me sick and describe the smell to me. I don’t want that.” (Like describing all the previous details didn’t make him sick???)
At the end of the class, I rose my hand (realizing that sometimes, sarcasm goes past me), and I asked my professor, “Do we really have to do that poo thing?”
“Yes, of course,” he replied.
“But do our names have to go on the paper?”
“It’s how I will take role.”
“By our poops?” I asked, somewhat horrified.
Another guy raised his hand. “So, what is a normal poo supposed to do? Float or sink. Because mine always sink.”
“Float. You need more bulk in your diet.”
“Well, I eat insoluble fiber…”
I interjected, seeing how much I could stimulate this conversation. I was finding this dialogue all too amusing. “So, is there like, a middle ground?” I asked. “You know, between, floating and sinking? Like a mid-floater. I bet you’ve had a mid-floater before,” gesturing to the man who raised his hand before me.
“Yeah, I’ve had mid-floaters,” he replied non-nonchalantly.
Was anybody else wondering if we were really having this discussion???
“Just write it on the paper and we’ll talk about what normal is next week. Make sure if you eat corn you chew it well,” My professor replied. That was how class ended.
…This is a true story from school today. Just saying.