SupposiStories

Harry’s latest round of inoculations (inevitable soaring temperature) taken in conjunction with as-yet uncontrolled reflux (much baby-rage) resulted in my dosing him with paracetamol in an attempt to palliate the pervading misery in maison HFF. I explained to Harry that if he persisted in refusing to even look at the approaching Calpol – craning his head around 170 degrees whilst taking wild (yet uncannily well-aimed) blind swipes behind him in hopes of knocking the spoon away… then his anal privacy would be unavoidably violated. And he still wouldn’t swallow, so he was obliged to undergo a torpedoing.

His expression was… curious. Somewhere in that undefinable middle ground between Urrrgh!, Ahhhhh! and WTF?!

Harry’s last epoch of reflux medication, some 10 months ago, constipated his (entirely breastfed) belly for up to 9 days at a time, so we have travelled the laxative suppository route before. (Ummm. Is it just me, or was there something a little wrong about the finish to that sentence?) Hubby was generally reduced to a quavering presence hovering nervously in the doorway – although precisely what aspect of the proceedings he was unsettled by, he could not explain to anyone’s satisfaction. He was no different this time around, when I instructed him to entertain the non-business end of child: his fussing reluctance distracted me sufficiently, that I very nearly missed the tiny illustrations on the instructions altogether.

I would have paid hard currency to have been a fly on the wall for the commissioning conversation for this. How do you tell a (presumably) self-respecting illustrator that in order to earn their crust today, they have to produce anthropomorphic suppositories?

 

A suppository, looking at a box of suppositories… wearing spectacles. How surreal unusual bloody strange.

Note the fetching apron on the Mummy suppository – the one holding aloft the lard torpedo. And no wonder the kid looks nervous, the thing’s a fifth his own width and a tenth his own length! I’m 5ft 4 and oooo (sucking breath), say, 18 inches across in places. To me, that’d be 3.5 x 6.5 inches to scale.

I’d start running now, buddy, if I were you.

A Mummy suppository, wearing an apron, with Inspector Gadget arms. What splendiferous Google search terms this post will open up for me.

Now the kid looks cheerful! He’s radiating joy! He may even be holding one aloft in triumph, if he isn’t giving a jubilant thumbs-up to… to… the pharmacy shop window? The dreaded things are going back! Every other kid he knows has had a good butchers at his parent carrying his bum-plugs all the way across town in an open box, but hey, lets accentuate the positive. They’ve left the house.

Of course, if we pan back to the night before, we might spot the reason for that.

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12 Responses

  1. Imagine my confusion at our American friends persistance in calling progesterone pessaries a suppository….

    They all do it, and I always get visions much like your anthropormorphised suppositories.

    J

  2. HAHAHAHAHA! Oh my goodness, what they won’t think off next. Cartoon suppositories. Oh, my word. That laugh felt really good!

    Sorry your poor baby had to have one up the back passage. Hopefully he’s feeling better tonight?

    I think the term baby-rage is so incredibly accurate, having witnessed it firsthand for 11 weeks. I have never heard it more accurately described.

  3. Thanks for the laugh this morning although I did spit a small mouthful of tea onto the monitor.

    Poor Harry, I hope for his and your sake he’s shitting up a storm soon.

  4. OMG how funny are those instructions? I’d be giggling so hard, I’d probably miss the mark. Hope you had better luck with young Harry. And yes, think I get HF’s extreme discomfort with the whole process. Hope things are on the move soonest

  5. That was really disturbing. I don’t want to be a suppository when I grow up.

  6. I’m going to be having nightmares about giant suppositories now. I know what you mean about DH’s and their reluctance to become too involved in the, um, procedure. Mine is also called upon to entertain the upper portion of the patient but would never dream of taking the reigns (ooh, now there’s a mental image for you, a suppository with REIGNS).
    I hope it produced the desired results.

  7. How much do you think the illustrator enjoyed this job? I know I certainly would.

    Also, I still laugh at the usage of “back passage”. I want to giggle each time someone says it, which in my life, is A LOT.

  8. So, I just finished reading through your entire blog and I wanted to

    a)introduce myself (hi, I’m Flicka’s SIL [the GOOD one], Beth)

    b)tell you how FABULOUS I think your blog is, I thoroughly enjoyed reading all of it and

    c)ask if it would be cool with you if I put a link to it on my blog along with other blogs I’ve been branching out onto.

    And that’s a lot of comment, so I’m going to go. I look foward to your next entry.

  9. The French have a fixation with suppositories! Most of their drugs can be be found in this format. I have to say to the doctor every time I go that I would “prefer the oral version, if you don’t mind!” Why, oh why, would anyone want to stick something up their bum when they could just as easy swallow it (oh, gosh…that sounded a bit rude – sorry). Lovely to have found your blog. Will be back, if you will have me?

  10. […] distractions, lots of cuddles and small lard torpedos bunged up his bum are all I can do for him right […]

  11. […] have written an entire post – with illustrations – about suppositories. (Note for American readers regarding British medical terminology: pessaries generally go in your […]

  12. Oh that is funny as fuck!

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