"Long Poops"

In the past 6 months of living with a newborn, my husband and I seem to take longer poops.

Yep. I said it. Poop.

I’m not saying the actual turd is longer; I’m saying the duration of the time spent on the porcelain throne has significantly increased. Like all of a sudden there’s a constipation problem in the house?

I can’t help but to reference the recent movie with Paul Rudd in This is 40 where his movie wife, Leslie Mann, actually catches him taking a “fake dump” while sitting there playing on an ipad.

I ask myself, “Why? Why is all this time dedicated to probably the foulest thing we will do all day?”

Two words. Alone time. And not just any alone time—undisturbed alone time.

“Honey, can you grab the baby?” Nope. I’m pooping.

“Babe, can you take out the trash?” Nope. Pooping.

“Will you help get dinner started?” Pooping.

You really can’t get mad at someone who has to go. I mean, when ya gotta go, ya gotta go. Don’t get me wrong. My husband and I are not sitting on the pot all day. But, when we finally get to shut the door to the sweet oasis that awaits, we are void of any responsibility that could potentially come our way.

Welp. I guess I should flush and get on with my day. Till next time…