This one is, unfortunately, about poo.

I talk at the DNB!

I am probably, as usual, being long-winded and tiresome. Finally, the DNB glances up at me from where he is lying on the couch.

"Can I go poo now?" he asks plaintively. "I've been pinching."

I'm taken a little aback. "First, yes. Second, EW."

We have three full bathrooms - one on the main floor, mine upstairs, and his in the basement. The DNB grabs his laptop - so we all know this is going to be a lengthy situation - and heads toward the main floor bath.

"Not there!" I shriek. Good grief, I have to LIVE near that bathroom.

He shuffles back, clenching his butt cheeks for effect, and opens the door leading upstairs to our bedroom.

"MY BATHROOM?" I yell in horror.

He turns and makes for the basement. For HIS VERY OWN BATHROOM. "A man can't poop ANYWHERE in this house!" he complains loudly.