A Bumper Sticker Changed Everything
November 2024, middle school drop-off. I'm pulling out of the parking lot, mind already jumping to my to-do list, when a bumper sticker on the car ahead stops me cold:
HONK IF YOU HAVE TO POOP!
I laughed out loud. Hard.
The kind of laugh where your shoulders shake.
I wanted to honk so badly. But I didn't have to poop right then, and I didn't want to violate the bumper sticker's rule.
As I was cracking up while driving along, I thought: "Wait a minute! I don't have to poop right NOW, but I DO have to poop as a human being. So I CAN honk!"
The car was long gone by this point, so I didn't honk. But I had the biggest smile on my face, thinking…
That's something to be grateful for.
It Was Funny, AND Serious.
My youngest son has had gastrointestinal issues since he was a few months old. We spent over a decade going to a surgery center for procedures three to four times a year so doctors could monitor his digestive tract. We'd just done it two weeks before I saw that bumper sticker.
Sometimes I'd see other kids there in worse shape—kids who couldn't go to the bathroom on their own.
So while laughing at that ridiculous bumper sticker, I remembered those kids. And I realized how much of a blessing it is to poop on my own. Something most of us completely overlook. But if our bodily functions didn't work as expected, it would dramatically change our lives.
I didn't just smile and move on. The next day, I wrote a poem and sent it to the family group chat.
One of my nephews responded: "shakespeare could never..."
My oldest child responded: "pure genius."
My mother-in-law gave the 💩 emoji I took as a "well done" sign.
And my wife said: "That's my man and I'm going to stick beside him."
That was all the "approval" I needed to share this far and wide.
The poem was a joke. But I was serious about smiling when you poop.
This Sounds Ridiculous. It Is. Here's Why That's Good.
Life stinks sometimes.
Work gets stressful. Relationships get complicated. Health falters. Money gets tight. Plans fall apart.
This book doesn't change any of that.
But it will teach you how to be grateful even when life stinks—not by pretending problems don't exist, but by training your brain to notice what's still working while you deal with what isn't.
I call this ridiculous gratitude, and it comes in three forms:
Ridiculous Stretch: Finding gratitude in situations that don't obviously call for it—like when your water bill is five times normal and you find yourself appreciating the workers who know how to fix things you didn't know existed.
Ridiculously Small: Appreciating tiny things most people ignore—toilet paper, doorknobs, the fact that gravity keeps coffee in your cup. These helpers are so small they're invisible until they break.
Ridiculously Proactive: Hunting for reasons to be grateful instead of waiting for circumstances to feel grateful. Actively choosing to notice what's working rather than passively hoping gratitude shows up.
Here's what makes this different from most gratitude advice:
This isn't toxic positivity. I'm not telling you to "look on the bright side" or "be grateful for the lesson." That advice sounds hollow when life gets genuinely hard.
This is truth-based gratitude. It acknowledges the storm AND the roof that keeps you dry. It appreciates that storms pass. It grounds you in what's stable so you can deal with what's not.
Both things can be true simultaneously: some things are broken AND some things are working.
When you practice being grateful on purpose during ordinary moments, your brain learns to find solid ground during extraordinary challenges. Like muscle memory for athletes—you practice thousands of times in regular settings, so you automatically know what to do under pressure.
And bathroom breaks? They're the perfect automatic trigger for all three types of ridiculous gratitude. Here's why...
The Genius of Bathroom Gratitude Triggers
Years ago, I read Tiny Habits by Dr. BJ Fogg, who emphasized attaching new habits to existing triggers. I've been practicing gratitude for years, helping others establish gratitude habits. But somehow, it never occurred to me that bathroom breaks are the ultimate trigger.
Here's why they're perfect:
You can't skip them. You can skip workouts, journaling, and even meals. But for many of us, biology ensures you can't skip bathroom breaks. Your body guarantees compliance.
They're completely private. Nobody's grading your gratitude. It's just you with a few seconds to yourself—a built-in pause button.
They happen multiple times daily. Not once in the morning or once at night, but three to seven opportunities throughout your day.
They work anywhere. Home, office, traveling—wherever you go, bathroom breaks follow.
They're already a pause. You're already stopping what you're doing. Adding 10 seconds of gratitude requires zero extra time.
How to Actually Use This Trigger
The next time you use the bathroom, try this simple practice:
Step 1: As you sit (or stand), pick ONE thing to be grateful for. Just one.
Step 2: Say a simple thank you in your head:
- "Thank You that my body is working."
- "Thank You for whoever invented toilet paper."
- "Thank You for the lock on this door."
- "Thank You for indoor plumbing."
Step 3: Add a smile. Even a fake one. Your brain doesn't always know the difference.
That's it. Ten seconds. One appreciation. Done.
If You're Thinking...
"This is weird. I can't take this seriously."
Perfect. Weird sticks. Weird is memorable. Weird turns into an automatic habit faster than "serious" practices you forget about. You'll forget to journal. You'll skip meditation. But you won't forget to use the bathroom.
"What if other people find out I'm doing this?"
They won't. That's the beauty—it's completely private. You're having a 10-second thought in your head. Nobody knows unless you tell them.
"This seems disrespectful or inappropriate."
Actually, it's the opposite. You're taking a mundane moment and infusing it with appreciation. You're acknowledging bodily functions as the miracles they are. There's nothing more respectful than gratitude.
"Won't this just become meaningless repetition?"
Only if you make it repetitive. Today, appreciate your body. Tomorrow, thank the plumbing. The next day, be grateful for privacy. The trigger stays the same, but the gratitude varies endlessly.
Most gratitude practices fail because they require you to remember them. This one works because it hijacks something you already do three to seven times daily.
"Will 10 seconds really make a difference?"
Not by itself, one time. But repeated three or more times per day over time… Try it and find out.
"What if I don't have regular bathroom breaks?"
If medical conditions, travel, or irregular schedules affect your bathroom routine, that's okay. You can apply the same principle to any unavoidable daily activity: hand washing, opening doors, pouring coffee, or even breathing exercises. The bathroom is just one example of an unavoidable trigger—the principle works with whatever your body or schedule guarantees you'll do multiple times daily.
The Unexpected Power of Ridiculous
When you can find genuine gratitude while sitting on a toilet, you can find it anywhere.
When you appreciate toilet paper during a terrible day, you've built a skill that works regardless of circumstances.
The bathroom becomes your training ground for a gratitude practice that sticks, even when life stinks. Every visit is an invitation. Every pause is a chance. Every ridiculous thank you builds the muscle of noticing what's working.
Then one day, you realize you're no longer a person just practicing gratitude…
You're a person who is grateful.
What was once awkward has become automatic.
What started as ridiculous has become revolutionary.
Three Ways to Start Today
- Set a "SWYP Alarm" on your phone. Set an alarm labeled: "Don't forget to Smile When You Poop." Or if you're afraid someone else may see it, "Don't forget to SWYP."
- Start ridiculously simple. Your first gratitude can be as basic as "Thank you that I made it here in time." Don't aim for profound—aim for consistent.
- Track your streak. See how many bathroom visits in a row you can remember to practice gratitude. Make it a game. Can you hit 10 in a row? 20? 100?
Next: You know gratitude is good, but why does it feel fake when life gets tough? Chapter 1 reveals the one critical distinction between forcing positivity and finding genuine appreciation—a truth I discovered while standing in my yard, watching strangers dig a massive trench as our water bills climbed to five times normal...