Friday, October 13, 2006

Crappy Husbands

You know what I hate? Marathon Movements. No, I'm not talking about sprints and fartleks and speed intervals during a 26.2-mile race! Not those kind of movements. I'm talking about the 3-hour crap-fests that my husband celebrates at least once per day. You know the phrase "shit or get off the pot?" This was invented by my husband's mother. Really.

So, you're probably going, "ahhh, come on. Cut the guy some slack. I mean, a man's gotta poop, right?" But you've obviously never lived with someone as fecally-endowed as my husband. Two hours or more per day on the pot? Come on. That's not right. Or normal. Ever hear of a spastic colon? Yeah, my husband hasn't either. But he's probably heard of its counterpart, the Relaxed Colon. Or, the Spastic Colon On Ritalin. Yes, I'm certain he's heard of those.

Alright, so maybe I'm being a little bit dramatic. But honestly, I do think my husband's love affair with the porcelain bowl is a passive-aggressive ASSault on our marriage.

Let's just be honest. Marathon-movementing husbands: I'm gonna share something with you. We wives know what's going on. I mean, we're not dumbasses. We know that you're looking for a quiet repreive away from us. We know you prefer the "crapper" over our non-stop "yapper." We know that it's not coincidence that your bowels start to percolate at the exact same time that we decide we want to share an interesting story about getting our period a day early or buying makeup that was one shade too dark. We know you're in there, hiding away from us, mock-flipping through the pages of your Newsweek, and thinking you have pulled a fast one on us. You haven't. We're on to you.

So there. Excessive pooping is a form of neglect. And I don't like being neglected. Am I a needy wife? No. Do I sometimes wish the house would spontaneously combust while my husband is half-way into one of his 3-hour fecal fests? You bet.

I don't like sharing my husband's attention with 'the john' but I've come up with a few tactics for getting him out quickly. Neglected spouse everywhere, these are for you:

1) Wrap lightly on the door, and in your nicest voice say, "honey? what are you doing?" He is forced say, "pooping" which makes him feel feeble and vulnerable and generally a flush is within 3 minutes from this annoying interuption.
2) Drop something and say, "OH MY GOD!" really loudly. He'll think the TV fell on you or something and generally come to your aid within 5-10 minutes.
3) Stand at the door and continue the conversation you were having when he started gathering up his magazine and unbuckling his belt. Somehow, it's just not the same and he'll flush that pot within seconds.
4) Say: "Oh sweetie, you should put that down. I don't think Daddy would like that you're playing with his (insert favorite man-toy here)." This one yields a very fast result; perhaps too fast. If you do the laundry in your household, you might need a clorox pen for his undies.
5) In the other bathroom, plug in your hairdryer, flattening iron, cd player and fan then turn it all on at once. The power WILL go off. And he'll be left in a dark tooter room. Oh well; I mean, it's not like we control the power grid. Cheesh!
6) Wait until one of the kids is in the second bathroom then start jumping around the front of the bathroom door yelling, "hurry. I'm gonna go right here if I can't get in there really, really fast."
7) Put "UFC Unleashed" on the TV -- loud enough so he'll hear it, of course.
8) Tell him you're naked.
9) Call his cell phone. He'll hear it ringing and think it's one of his friends.
10) Just go in, start the shower up, and pretend he's not there.

You're welcome.

10 comments:

LC said...

Your husband is going to love this one! I don't know, but I think the husband in the bathroom for extended time could be a blessing. You get peace and quiet and no arguments! The only problem I see is having to use that bathroom within 20 minutes of his exiting!

Lori said...

I've called them "marathon poos" for years, AND? I'm with the above noter, I don't really mind when the session begins. Yay, he's on the pot, that means he doesn't have the remote in his hand. Your ploys to get him out made me laugh, though. [plaintive] "what are you doing?" [hesitantly] "...pooping."

catlover said...

Vicki.

Rebecca said...

Oh, man that was funny. I can't say that I can really relate though. My husband is a "sprinter," if you will. :) It is cute actually, after almost 10 years of marriage, if it is going to be a loud one, he turns on the shower as if that drowns out the farts!

Vicki said...

LC -- I think "hubby" realizes I take a bit of creative license (even at HIS expense). It's all part of my first amendment rights!!!

Lori -- I guess I'm still too needy for attention. I long for the day when I am HAPPY he's in there!

Catlover -- what? You know it's true. You birthed him for God's sakes!

Rebecca -- Welcome to the blog. Glad you enjoyed it. I am envious of your sprinting pooper. And drowning out the sounds? Wow! You mean, like asking the kids to pull his finger when his ass is a mere 2-feet from your face isn't necessarily the norm?

Rebecca said...

Vicki, you won't believe this, I have got more. When Chris and I got married, he made a "No belching, No farting clause." He said it kills the romance. 9 1/2 years later, I have never heard him burp on purpose or fart outside the bathroom!!! Isn't that insane???? I on the other hand have been nicknamed Stinky a time or two. I have been meaning to ask his partner if he farts/belches in the cruiser when they are working long slow nights...

Officer Gary said...

"creative license"? Is that what they call fiction these days? Do I detect a bit of jealosy from the one who can't go for days and when she finally does, tries to cover the scent by burning a match? The only thing that smells worse than crap is roasted crap marinated in sulfur. I'm not ashamed of my quiet time on the bowl reading a book; I'd stay longer if the blood circulation to my legs didn't get cut off.

kevin said...

I think hubby is busy playing with his favorite man-toy

Vicki said...

Rebecca -- your husband sounds like quite the gentleman! Though, that is a lot of pressure to be under that clause for nearly 10 years.

Regarding farting in the police cruiser, apparently this is a common phenomenon. My husband doesn't mind as long as the partner-farter "owns it." Otherwise, I guess it's just not cool. Now, if I ever farted in front of a peer at work, I'd definitely have to quit and find a new job (and a cozy rock to hide under).

Officer Gary -- the reason I don't go for days is cause I can't get a foot into the damn bathroom with you in there incessantly.

Kevin -- interesting theory....Hmmmm.

Anonymous said...

He could be sitting in there looking at porn on his cellphone. There's even an urban term for that - "cranking" - crapping and w*nking. I'm not kidding, ladies. Pretty sick, isn't it? What's next for these sick puppies?