Ok, so in this blog, you’re not going to learn about relationships, or about meeting new people, or anything too inspirational.
What you will learn is way more than than you need to learn about me! But I bet you will laugh.
First thing that you should know, that most of my friends already know, I do not poop. Not now nor have I ever pooped. I barely admit to ever going to the bathroom. If I do, it’s only to fix my make-up, adjust my panties (:-)) or fluff my hair. On the rarest of occasions do I even tinkle. You see, I am a lady and a lady is above these things . Yes that’s me in the boudoir with rose petals. And yes, I admit I am a miracle of science. Of course, some of my friends (husband included) would like to say that it must mean if I don’t poop, I must be full of sh*#.
So now that you know where I’m coming from, these two stories are even more humorous.
I was pregnant with my first child. My husband and I went to the birthing classes. I remember raising my hand asking the question, “is it true that some women actually go to the bathroom while giving birth?” I must have read this in my “What to Expect when you’re Expecting” book. And I was totally astonished. Please oh please tell me this can’t be true.
Now you have to understand, my husband and I do not go to the bathroom in front of each other. To this day, after 25 years of marriage, we do not go to the bathroom in front of each other! I mean WHY!?! I once saw myself sitting on the toilet–a very ill placed mirror opposite me. I jumped! I mean I jumped!!! Why on earth would anyone want to see that!!
OK, back to the birthing lesson. Yes, it’s true. It’s very natural, while you’re pushing the baby out, blah blah blah. I’m like, not me, THAT’s for sure!! Well, you know where this story is heading. Of course, the ONE time in my life that I pooped (yes, only once) and it’s probably documented in the doctors report somewhere! Obviously I didn’t care. I didn’t care if the whole world saw. My legs were spread for whomever wanted to help take this baby out of me. But, another story, another day.
Years later, at my gastroenterologist, I had a very young handsome doctor asking me questions. About my poop of all things. I mean, what did I expect, I’m at the gastroenterologist. BUT, Really? I can’t have an old man for this? Nope. Young and cute. Showing me photos of different shapes etc. Oh for goodness sakes. Are you feeling my pain?
Now this has nothing to do with my lack of pooping but I think it’s funny. He looks at my hands and gets concerned. He says, “have you been eating lots of carrots?” I shake my head no. He says, “your hands are very orange.” And now I have to admit to my young cute doctor that I used a self tanner on my body that morning and didn’t wash my hands well enough. So now this cute intern or whatever he’s called-knows the shape of my non existent poop and that I use self-tanner. ( I might as well talk to him about my period and sexual positions, and by the way, what’s your name again? I’m thinking can I please just leave the office now? ) He grabs a pile of purple latex gloves, walks over and drops them into my lap. “Here use these next time so your hands won’t get orange”. Every time I see those purple latex gloves in my medicine cabinet I think about that appointment.
Would you believe I have a few more stories like these? Continued next week….
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