It's the day after Halloween. It's very early in the morning. The house is silent save for the pad-pad-pad of my spidery fingers on the keyboard.
But if you listen very, very closely, you can actually hear my kid's teeth decaying.
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Not a word of a lie, this morning, as my husband is on the toilet, he asks me if I could please bring him a pair of underwear. So, as the coffee is brewing, I run upstairs, run back down and hand him a pair of Calvin Klein Boxers. He takes the boxers and asks me if I could please bring the one laying on the bathroom floor into the laundry room. I pick up the boxers laying on the floor... A gooey substance of yellowish orange colour, the result of too many wine gums... these were not halloween candies.
Thank you so much for the info in obtaining your book. Will do.
Was he pooping?
I like poop.
Yes. As he began brewing the coffee, poopsy woopsy's, or rather that yellowish orange substance oozed out of his bubble bum.
I am disgusted and intrigued at the same time.
Am I to assume that he sharted?? Do you think hubby would be happy knowing that you shared his analy leakage with the world?!?!?!
Once again, all roads lead to poop.
I already told him I broadcasted his little gooey accident. He laughed. And we both love the term 'Sharted'. It's one of our favorites.
Deer poop is a fascinating thing.
I love those nice and tidy little round balls. I have a rather large collection of it in numbered canning jars.
Great! would you like to mail it to me. I of course, will mail it back to you. I would like to show my father. He is an avid Deer Hunter. And it would be just heavenly if he could take just one little look...just one garrett, just one...
I hope your husband laughed "carefully" - I would hate for him to have another sharting episode.
I believe he's always sharting. Laughing, crying, cooking, eating, contemplating, having sex...no I take that back...
Dear Velvet Fog,
I'm so sorry, I forgot to answer your question: petroleum.
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