Tuesday, September 28, 2010

This has nothing to do with the post but: how come you jerks don't comment?

When Mike and I started dating (as with all new relationships) poop and farts were something that we pretended just didn't happen.
We all do this.  I think.  The last thing we want to happen in front of our new boyfriend or girlfriend is fart, or - GOD FORBID - get diarrhea.
Mike is incredibly regular.  He has to poop like 5 minutes after waking up, every morning.  (I hope he doesn't mind that I'm blogging about his poop... he never reads this though).  So when I had my own place and Mike would spend the night, he would always rush out super fast in the mornings.  I just thought he slept longer than he should have and had to get to work really early.  But no.
Mike had to get in his car and drive halfway across the city to his house so he could take a poop before going to work every morning.  And I mean every morning.  He spent the night all the time.
What a desperate human being.  I didn't know the truth for a long, long time.
I did really well for quite a while!  No pooping incidents or farts for months!  Mike cracked first.
We went out for dinner and something Mike ate "didn't agree" with him (why do people say that?).  We headed back to my apartment and Mike bashfully admitted that he was feeling a little sick.  And he stayed in the bathroom for a while and I sat on the couch, thinking long and hard about what has happening.
I'm not a monster.  I knew that Mike was in that bathroom freaking out because the lovely exterior of our new relationship had been compromised.  I now knew that he pooped.  And he was doing it just a few feet away.  He must have been mortified.  So I just contemplated how the situation should be handled.  It isn't the kind of thing you can just not comment on.  I had to make him feel better!  I knew he was super embarrassed!  What if I were in that situation?
So when Mike emerged and stood before me, I just said "Everything is fine.  And if I'm ever in that position I want you to make me feel as comfortable as possible with this type of utterly devastating inevitability" and with that, Mike felt comfortable pooping at my place.  Milestone!

I was about 5 months pregnant before I ever farted in front of Mike.  (Is anything more embarrassing?)  For weeks I had been preparing him for it.  Pregnant women fart like crazy.  Ask anyone - going 5 months without letting one slip in front of Mike is practically unheard of.  But yeah - I kept telling him "this is going to happen, and when it does I will rip your head off if you laugh at me, fucker!"
So this one night I was sitting in the hallway and while I was getting up it happened.  I did it.  I farted.  And I immediately turned red as a lobster and was all like "DON'T LAUGH!  I TOLD YOU!  YOU WERE WARNED!" but Mike laughed.  Obviously.  But I was glad that he did because if he didn't laugh we would have just stared at each other awkwardly and I probably would have cried.

He still doesn't know that I poop.

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