This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/AFatherStill on 2025-11-18 00:32:50+00:00.
My grandfather loved his three big Labradors; I think he loved them more than his family. But the old guy fed them the cheapest garbage dog food on earth. The kind that made their turds turn white when they dried. The result of this food was nuclear-level dog farts and turds the size of small loaves of bread.
When I was 11, he made it my chore to clean up the poop and mow the lawn. I figured I could save time by just mowing over the piles of shit. Turns out, when you mow over big, fresh dog turds, they turn into a moist brown mist. The first time they saw me do this, my grandparents put a stop to it.
So, I invented a solution: the doo-doo catapult. Which was literally my grandmother’s spatula from her kitchen drawer.
On chore day, I’d wait for my grandparents to leave the house, then I’d get to work. I’d go outside, fling the dogs’ giant turds over the fence and onto the neighbors’ roof. Perfect aim. Pure roof, every time. They were jerks anyway, so I didn’t feel bad.
One day, after I’d skipped my chores for several weeks, my grandfather got mad and made me get to work. There was several weeks of poop, from three big dogs, it was gross. I was in a huge hurry, my grandparents had left and my friends were waiting out on the street for me. I didn’t check if the neighbors were home, nor did I check my aim. I just started rapid-fire launching turds over the fence.
After a bunch of launches, I froze, people were yelling, screaming and cussing. Our neighbors were outside having a backyard party, a whole bunch of people barbecuing. I had just carpet-bombed the entire thing with dog shit.
When my grandparents got home, the neighbors marched straight over, looking for blood, they were livid. My grandfather spoke with them for a long time, me standing behind him. After he calmed them down, by agreeing that he’d ground me for the rest of my life, the old man glanced back at me, gave the tiniest smile, and winked.
I didn’t get in much trouble. Mostly just a stern talking to from my grandmother. She said to never ever use her spatula again for doo-doo duty. Even my grandmother couldn’t hold back laughing, each time she said “poop,” during her stern talk with me.
They were the greatest grandparents in the world.
TL;DR: I used my grandma’s spatula to catapult dog poop over the fence, didn’t realize the neighbors were having a big party, I bombed the entire gathering with big Labrador turds.