Whenever I am distressed, I give in to my cravings for sweet and fatty food. Throw in the recent holiday weekend, and the recipe is for overeating disaster. My problem is that eating so poorly tends to make my digestive tract explode. This is uncomfortable and smelly.
After a particularly fetid incident late Monday night, I crawled into bed and told Husband that I just evacuated pounds and pounds of poo.
"Doody by the pound?" he giggled. "That's gross. Especially because when you get it by the pound, the store wraps it up in wax paper and writes what it is on the outside, and everyone in the store knows what you have. It's so embarrassing!"
Damn, I love this man.
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I forgot to tell you that I had to break out the wire hanger for a doodie episode at my parents' house a few weeks ago.
ReplyDeleteRe: Your husband - he's okay but I prefer him when he is buying me things:)
-Steph
P.S. Did you ever read "Necessary Business" or whatever that book about crap was that I bought you for the holidays? Was it any good or was is shitty? Ha! Ha! I guess it could actually be both:)
P.P.S. There is a road down here with the word "Cooch" in it. I thought of you when I drove past it last night.