Whys and wherefores

Reasons


Being around him makes me poop. Everyday.

This is what I tell friends when they ask me why I stay with him, despite his decided weirdness.

Before I met him, I was constipated; I suffered from irregular bowel movement despite my seemingly infinite consultations with various specialists. I even went to a witch doctor one, still to no avail.

He is weird, that is an incontestable fact. He counts the number of times he gargles while brushing. He only drinks water when it’s a certain temperature. His meat has to be precision cooked at a certain degree Celsius. This means not being able to go out most of the time to have fun. Whenever we do, it’s to the movie house that he paid to have the air conditioning set at 16 degrees Celsius. When he’s a certain mood, he rhymes unintentionally. It’s sometimes funny to me but it isn’t to him, so I end up farting just from trying to keep myself from laughing.

He is undeniably weird and I have been told, had I gone to our senior prom, I’d have been crowned Prom Queen. And Homecoming Queen at the last football game of our year. But I opted out because I suffered from cramps from constipation and had to stay at home.

So you don’t know how much it means to have someone who makes me poop on the regular. It means no cramps, no occasional regurgitations, no worries that the fiber I take might be too much for my digestive system, it would lead to diarrhea.

It’s a trade-off and I am getting used to the new normal. I get up in the morning with a predictable toilet habit waiting for me.

His idiosyncrasies are beginning to grow on me. And it’s not like he is physically repulsive. You might even say he is good looking when he is dressed to the nines, like that time when he took me to his sister’s wedding. He wore a really nice gray suit and my heart skipped a few beats first time I saw him. And it’s not like he has halitosis or stinky feet. He is just really meticulous and I know it’s bordering on obsessive compulsive disorder, but I have the patience of a saint so I can live with his kookiness.

Today I am at the jewelers, picking out a platinum band. It is our third anniversary dating and I want to surprise him. I bought a pretty pink silk dress for tonight. A string quartet will serenade us at my secluded backyard where I have a table set with a sumptuous dinner. I have water standing by at his preferred temperature. There is also an architect’s plan for the renovation of my home that I will show him.

I am asking him to marry me and I am not giving him the chance to say no. I like pooping everyday, and I don’t care about what other people have to say about it. It’s a match made in heaven.