Round One

I few weeks ago I put up this post on Facebook:

It is official: 3b and I will fight about anything.

Now ladies, before you head over to his house with shrimp scampi and lube, relax. We are not in trouble. My mistake in that post is that we don’t ever really fight. We argue. We are both idiots and as such, our arguments are over idiotic things. This argument was no different.

I have never “done my business” outside. I am not a fan of the outside. I don’t like jam bands, festivals, farmers markets or anywhere else that has a porta-john. I once held my biz for 15 straight hours because I couldn’t find a clean bathroom. I am nuts. This much is true. I also got a kidney infection the next day but totally worth it to me because I got to stay home where I know I am safe. What am I afraid of you ask? Damned if I know. I have always been this way. I skeeve public bathrooms so the thought of a porta-john makes me sick.

3b: I am supposed to believe that you have never had to go so bad that you used a porta-john.

Me: Honey, I don’t give a flying fuck on a rolling donut what you believe, I have NEVER gone outside or in a porta-john. Deal with it. I am a lady.

3b: Bullshit. I suppose you have never pooped yourself either.

Me: Not since I was two. Although, if you remember when I took that extra dose of magnesium a few years ago it was close. That is the power of prayer. I made it home.

3b: I was pretty sure that day you pooped yourself.

Me: On my mother’s ashes, I swear I never have.

3b: I also believe you would lie on your mother’s ashes.

Me: Fine, I swear on my girl’s eyes.

3b: Why are Italians always swearing on their kids’ eyes?

Me: Because sight is precious. Duh!

3b: IDIOT!

This conversation went on for two hours!! Two hours we argued about bodily functions and Italian superstition. Sexy time, right? I have said it before and I am saying it again, we are idiots. We have conversations like this at least 10 times a week. We are both stubborn as well. This is why these conversations go on so long. We argue as though we are Al Pacino in that movie “And Justice For All”. At any moment one of us it going to scream that famous line “YOU’RE OUT OF ORDER, THIS WHOLE COURT ROOM IS OUT OF ORDER.” Only instead of “courtroom”, we say living room or dog. Like my beast is out of order. Idiots? Totally! The thing is we are content being idiots with each other. So to our friend that thought we were actually having a “fight”, please don’t worry. It was just an argument about pooping outside. No need to panic. Idiot.