I waddled into the lounge as if I was carrying a plantain in between my bum cheeks. The good lady looked up from writing something at the table.
You were gone for ages!
I wiped some sweat from my brow and gave her a cocky smile.
Oh man, sorry I took so long. It was a power shit, my arse is killing me.
The good lady's eyes boggled out on stalks.
Oh my god. Do you ever actually listen to the stuff that comes out of your mouth?
She made a face of disgust as if I had made gluten-free Jaffa Cakes again.
Eh, what do you mean? It really was a power shit. At one point, I thought I was on the deck of a pirate ship in a storm.
She slapped down the pen she was writing with.
Do I really have to know every intimate detail about your number twos?!?!
I felt hurt. Wasn't this what married life was about? I mean, if I wanted to hide my toilet habits I would be as well being single. I am sure we all remember those days of being on a date and so as not to offend, holding in a fart for so long it dissolved into your skin.
Was that just me?
It's not like I am telling you about the number two itself, lass. I mean at no point have I mentioned tar, or sticky toffee pudding or salmon?
She made a noise which sounded like she had been holding in a fart for far too long herself. Let it go. I silently urged her in my mind.
What on earth do those words even mean? I don't want to hear about your poos?! Understand?
She said exasperatedly.
I'm not talking about poos. Not the end product. I am talking about the journey. My life experiences during the birthing of said poos.
The good lady managed to somehow narrow one eye and open the other wide in a spectacular grimace.
What?! Journey?! I don't want to hear about your 'Journey' when doing a poo. I don't want to hear about your toilet habits at all actually. Do you hear me?
I suppose.
I sat down huffily.
I thought we had no secrets...
I said sulkily, like a teenager forced to eat spinach.
The good lady put down her pen once more.
Daddy-Bear, It's ok to have some secrets, in fact some secrets are absolutely fine, alright?
I stood up from my chair.
Right then, maybe I will just trot off to a brothel.
The good lady laughed.
Well, if you have just told me, it's not a secret is it?
I gave her the Welshman's Stare and headed for the door.
Fine, I am not going to a brothel. I am going for another shit.
Arrrhh. I don't want to know about your toilet stuff!
I stopped at the door and turned to deliver one last word.
Don't ask me if it's another power shit... It's a secret.