The second day my husband and I lived together, we had butterbeans for lunch. I don't know WHAT I was thinking. I KNEW better.
This was on Saturday afternoon.By Saturday night, I was in such pain it wasn't even close to being funny. We were living in a very small apartment. One bathroom and it was right there at the doorway of both the bedroom and the living room - like I said, small apartment.
By Sunday, I am just miserable...moving slowly, not bending over, not lifting anything heavy, etc., just trying not to rip one. I had to go to work at 3:30 that afternoon so I'm feeling pretty good because I know once I get in the van to go to work, I can let 'er rip and the pain will go away.
I dress for work and get all ready to go and what do you know but hubby wants to "DRIVE" me to WORK!?!? WHY????? Why today of all days do you want to drive me to work?????
So we get in the car and off we go. I'm sitting there just trying not to breathe very hard because my colon had gotten all used to the idea that it was about time it could relax and now here we were closed up in a vehicle.
He drives up to my workplace and I crawl so slowly out of the seat (we're in a van that is pretty high up and I really am trying not to hit the ground too hard) and he leans to kiss me so I "lock everything up" so I can lean over and kiss the man without blowing him out the driver side door.
The minute he drives off, I mean the nano-second the man hits the gas and the van is moving forward ---- you better believe I let go with everything I had. I just KNEW I was going to have to run to the bathroom and check my "Just My Size" panties.
There were no insects flying around that corner of the parking lot the remainder of the evening and I didn't EVEN care who was getting out of their car close-by. They would just have to get over it, and it would be best they NOT light a cigarette anytime soon.