Some days I swear I may as well put a mini fridge in the Bathroom and call it a day.
All toilet talk aside, I consider myself pretty darn lucky to be married to my husband. Don’t get me wrong, I am glad I am married to this man, I am just kind of tired of his affair with the oval office.
I am not questioning his love for me, more so questioning his potty timing. It’s 8am, I am herding the kids through the house getting them ready for school, trying to get hair brushed, teeth brushed and feed the dog all at once and all of a sudden he must rush to the throne like a Bat out of hell. I get it, everyone poops (there is even a book by this title out there), yet somehow I am concerned that perhaps there is a little more to the lavatory story here.
I poop too, there I said it. However, I can hold it most of the time if I have to. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it’s difficult but when you are in the middle of performing an important task you just have to squeeze your cheeks. At least I do. Let me also point out that I have IBS. If I can hold it to finish brushing my daughter’s hair because we are seconds away from being late for school, then I am pretty sure he can hold it to. If I can be in the middle of the grocery store when my IBS starts screaming “ATTACK!” and still finish the shopping and make it out of the store without anyone having to do a clean up in Aisle 3, he can help me wash the dishes before he runs to the bathroom as soon as I ask him to. I swear there are a few keywords I use that send his bowels into overdrive. “Can You…”, “Dishes”, “Laundry.”
It’s not only just the timing when his bowels choose to start moving that I question, but it’s also the length of time it takes to do it. Does he mean to tell me that he had to RUSH into the bathroom faster than a toupee in a hurricane, but that it then takes 45 minuets to actually drop that stink pickle? I don’t think so buddy. If he had to go so badly, he’d have been done at least 40 minuets ago. The bathroom isn’t just for potty time for him, it’s where he plays his wonderful games and chats with his little gaming friends online. Also, sometimes I go in there right after his bathroom escapade and it still smells amazing in that bathroom. I have walked in behind him many a time and needed a gas mask just to make it to turn the fan on. Is he Pretending to poop sometimes? I mean REALLY.
Does he realize that I am the one left to do everything well he has this “Poomergency?” Does he understand that the world doesn’t just STOP when he sits on the can, it’s not a damn time machine.
All things considered here, I am going to do some more investigative work. I just thought of something, he may not have a mini fridge in there, but there is always a toilet tank. If I find beer in there I swear I am going to shake them all up and put them back.