When Jim woke me up this morning, I wanted into the bathroom to pee. Jim was standing (naked) at the sink, about 8 feet away from me. I noticed his rear had a red ring on it, and teased him about sitting on the can before he came in to brush his teeth and shower. Then the unthinkable happened.

I noticed a brown mark on my husbands ass.

“Is that…POOP?” I asked?

“Huh? What, where?” he asked, twirling frantically in front of our mirror to try and see what I was talking about. He finally spotted the inch wide brown mark on his upper cheek, but I guess he couldn’t discern what it was. As soon as I vacated the bathroom, he headed in there to check things out.

Meanwhile, I’m on my way downstairs, and thinking, DAMN. We’ve been together for almost 14 years, and I never thought Jim would become a lazy wiper. He’s so fastidious where the bathroom is concerned, wiping neatly, always folding his toilet paper and not balling it up, and he even washes his hands. Is this the beginning of the end? Am I going to be wiping his ass in a matter of years? Should I start packing my bags and get out now, and find someone with better butt wiping skills?

He called me back upstairs, but at that point, I was on the phone with a coworker. I assumed he only wanted help cleaning up, and there’s not enough tea in China for me to take on that job. He really just wanted to share the discovery he made once he got busy with the washcloth. Guess what he discovered?

It wasn’t poop at all, it was a big bruise on his ass!

I guess he took a puck to the hiney last night at hockey practice. I’m feeling much better about the state of my love life, now that I know he’s not turning into a lazy butt wiper.

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