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Letting it Rip: Foul and Loud - A new level of Love and Comfort!

Hello, Motherlovers

You know what feels lovely?
Knowing I can fart in front of my partner and not have to worry about whether or not the hot wings I ate last night are going to be putrid in the breeze headed the direction that my partner stands in.
It is so soothing knowing the one I love won’t judge me for my bodily excretions.
But, It wasn’t always that these happy days existed.
It seems like just yesterday I was having to hide the erupting bubbles that exploded in my belly as punishment for not letting them exit. As he sat there talking to me about his favorite Dragon Ball episode, all I could think of was when the fuck he was going to go the fucking restroom so I can – ahem – let’er rip.
The struggle is real.
Now, I know there are people out there who can’t fart in front of anyone – or so I’ve heard. And that is some fucking effort. I know for a fact after a few minutes, I am already regretting the decision of holding it in.
Like, you can HEAR them in my stomach, looking for exit doors all over the damn place and I have to act like “OMG. I am starving,”….at 9 in the morning.
And gawd forbid it tries to inch out of your ass.
Got to squeeze them glutes!!
Oh, and don’t act all high and mighty with your high horse with me! I always like to think the deniers are the guiltiest….
I guess that level of comfort represents the type of relationship one has, in a way.
If you are that comfortable to relieve yourself in such manner, with no fear WHATSOEVER of how LOUD or FOUL it may be.
THAT is love.
THAT is trust.
And THAT is utterly disgusting.
BUT IT MAKES YOU FEEL GOOD!!!
One less person whom you have to hide your true self from!
I’ll share a personal experience.
I have been with my partner for a little under three years.
In fact, on October the Eleventh, we will celebrate our three-year anniversary.
Anyway, we have experienced what any live-in couple has – the fights, the smells, the cooking, the cleaning, reminding him you aren’t his mom and won’t pick up his shoes all the damn time, and reminding yourself he is a huge man who will eat up everything in the fridge and some of the space in the bed, you will have to fight for. You can’t label anything, because he isn’t just your roommate, but there are things off limits, like your hair and tooth brush.
But, let’s not kid ourselves – we’ve used the wrong toothbrush once, or several times, before.
I was taking care of business in the bathroom, when I hear from behind the door,
“What are you doing?”
Isn’t it obvious, though??
“Peeing?”
“Ok,”
Door opens. He waltzes in as if it were normal.
Surprise, Surprise.
It is, in fact, very normal. Like any other household.
We can legit have a whole conversation with one of us on the toilet, taking care of business.
Also, when we both work in the mornings, it is a time saver!
Ahh, but where does that ‘comfort’ end?
That is the real question! *Holds toilet paper up to eye level, and stares intensely*
At number two, that’s where that shit ends.


Muah!

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