Scene: I walk into the house after staying an extra hour at work to help new students register for classes, understand their degree plans, and blame me for the lack of available courses. Because I cream my jeans whenever I get the chance to hear “Well, I won’t get my trust fund money if I only take 12 credit hours this semester!”
Welcome to my world.
ME: (walking through the front door)
The Hubster: Where’s the stuff you use to clean the toilets?
ME: What???
The Hubster: The stuff you use to clean the toilets! And that brush thingy.
ME: I just cleaned them yesterday! What happened?
The Hubster: Nothing. Just where are they?
ME: Why? What happened??
The Hubster: Just tell me where they are!
ME: Did you look for them?
The Hubster: Yes.
ME: Are you sure?
The Hubster: Yes!
ME: Where did you look?
The Hubster: I looked under all the cabinets in our bathroom.
ME: What about the other bathroom?
The Hubster: Oh…. (walks to find both the brush thingy and cleanser)
ME: What happened?
The Hubster: It’s too gross to talk about.
ME: Uh, oh. If you think it’s gross, I’m not sure I want to hear it.
The Hubster: I really had to go, but the apartment complex had some kind of watermain break and shut off the water. I couldn’t hold it.
ME: So you sharted?
The Hubster: Technically, sharting happens in your clothes, so no.
ME: Why didn’t you do it at Taco Bell or something?
The Hubster: Ewww! I eat there!!
I quite litterally LOLed at this.
This: “Ewww! I eat there!” is priceless. Also, it’s good to know the technical definition of a shart. The mental images from this post are too much. I’m going to be giggling for the rest of the morning.
Oh My GAWD!!!!!! I just laughed so hard at my desk that my co-worker came out of his office down the hall to find out if I was ok or just plain crazy!
The word “sharted” is officially on my list of grossest things ever.
This is awesome. Nothing like coming home to a good poop story after a long hard day’s work…
yuck! boys are gross!
You talk about funny stuff!!!!!!!! OMG!!! I’m cryin over here! You two are hilarious. You need to post more of these little scenarios. Call them “The Husband Diaries”…. I love it!
*snicker*
My husband and every guy I ever dated had poop stories. An obsession with their poop problems. I have never understood it. My poop stories largely remain private.
It really is your fault that the students can’t find available courses. Admit it, it wasn’t a big ol’ Hubby poop that clogged the toilet, you shoved all the available class forms down the porcelain god, didn’t you?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA. I have no other words.
LOL! Doesn’t he also eat at home? haha
LOL. “EwwwI eat there!”
I will never think of Taco Hell the same way again.
=D
The silver lining to a blech event? He wanted to clean up instead of ignoring the mess until you found it!
I’ve never met the Hubster, but his last line of “Ew! I eat there” I pictured him saying in a very “as if” Cher Horowitz way… which makes me laugh. A lot.