Beet Trauma

I awoke to a a warm welcome from the morning sun. I slowly made my way from the bed to the bathroom as usual. With thoughts of the day ahead, I sat onthe cool porcelin seat, that each morning greeted me. As I finished my business I looked into the bowl as I now do regurlary. To my great delight, a beautiful glow of fuschia peered up at me. For last night I had eaten 6 large beets for dinner. I was tickled with gratitude as my body had processed this and gifted me with big, long fuschia poop. I giggled thinking of the two of you and how connected we are. Ironically, I have a photo of us in the bathroom and so it's as if you are right there with me saying "good poop Myriam!". I flushed the toilet and continued to watch the colors change as water filled up the bowl and then the UNTHINKABLE happened. Yes, to my HORROR, the bowl continued filling and suddenly my heart started thumping with despair. It was happening so fast, and the fear paralyzed me. I stood there in shock as water continued to fill the bowl and the water started OVER FUCKING FLOWING that GODDAMN fuschia that only moments earlier had brought me such joy. BETRAYED, I was BETRAYED by the beet poop! As the water and poop flowed out of the toilet and started dispersing in every freakin crevice in the bathroom, I let out a shriek that echoed death. Standing in the bathroom terrified and naked, I screamed, I screamed from the depth of my being. It's all a blur but somehow I had the good sense to turn the valve and stop the flooding, only after piles of pink poop floated around my feet. Of course by this time, my love had woken by the shrieking and came running, curly hair all in his face "Baby, baby what is it?" "No, I screamed, you can't come in, it's horrible, save yourself, save yourself..." I sobbed through muffled tears.

I leave you with this...

The beet is the most intense of vegetables…Only the beet departs the body the same color as it went in.
At birth we are red-faced, round, intense, pure. The crimson fire of the universal consciousness burns in us. Gradually however we are devoured by parents, gulped by schools, chewed up by peers, swallowed by social institutions, wolfed by bad habits, and gnawed by age; and by the time we have been digested cow style, in those six stomachs, we emerge a single disgusting shade of brown.
The lesson of the beet, then, is this: hold on to your divine blush, your innate rosy magic, or end up brown

(Tom Robbins, Jitterbug Perfume)