One of my favourite things in the world is having a delicious, home-cooked dinner with my partner.

This evening’s dinner was no different as we savoured pan-seared chicken breasts with some freshly cooked greens. We laughed and chatted about our day as we enjoyed each other’s company. Once we were done with our meal, we headed towards the veranda of our apartment’s little garden, where we sat and enjoyed the cool, summer evening.

And what a beautiful evening it was.

The Jacaranda tree which spilled over to our side from the neighbouring apartment had rained down its flowers in the garden, releasing a fragrant, sweet smell of nature’s love. The lighting in the garden was dim and golden, allowing us to see the stars as they splashed across the black sky, a very rare sight in the concrete jungle of Johannesburg.

My loved one and I sat close together, breathing in the fragrant air while breathing out the stresses of the day and enjoying warm cups of coffee. I love nestling on his chest and listening to his heartbeat while he covers me with his arms.

But then, while enjoying this peace of Heaven, I feel a grumbling in my stomach, a grumbling that usually comes when I’m alone. I brushed it off as nothing to worry about; perhaps digestion was occurring quicker than usual.

But the more I was ignoring the grumbling, the more intense it got. I then felt my intestines work in overdrive to clear my body of filthy matter. In my mind, I commanded my body to behave. I summoned it to stop the digestion process until I was ready to cooperate.

But, instead of listening to my orders, I slowly began to get hot and fidgety. My partner turned to me with concern asking if anything was wrong, and instead of telling him the truth, I told him that I was starting to feel warm from drinking coffee.

I started to break out in a little sweat as I felt the increase of my body’s insistence that I obey its orders.

I felt trapped because I didn’t want my loved one to experience this side of me. We’ve been living together for only four weeks and I’m not yet ready for him to see this side of me. So far, I’ve managed to keep this part of me away from his knowledge.

Was tonight the night that all was going to be revealed?

Suddenly, his phone rings.

He left it on the kitchen counter, so he dashed inside to go and get it. It was his mother, which meant that the conversation was going to be a lengthy one, giving me enough time to sort out my issue.

I dashed upstairs to the emergency room and quietly shut the door behind to proceed to deal with my body’s natural process. I knew that I couldn’t stay in the emergency room for too long or he would grow suspicious, so I made sure to be quick.

I felt relieved in every way as I walked down the stairs from the emergency room.

I wonder how long I’ll be able to avoid pooping in front of my partner.

I can’t bring myself to do it.

I find that this is a very private matter that shouldn’t be privy to anyone, including my lifelong partner who accepts me as I am.

I’m not the most attractive person when getting rid of bodily waste, and the smell emitted from my body certainly isn’t in any way as fragrant as the flowers on the Jacaranda tree.

So, I think that I will continue with my secret toilet dashes until such a time that I’m ready to poop in front of him.

*image from Blogspot.

*Dailypost WordPress.


  1. Found this very amusing but couldn’t help wondering how you manage with the ‘personal breezes.’ Hope your loved one acknowledges that everyone farts.

  2. Lol. Good luck. I’ve been married for 16 years and I still can’t do it. Probably for the best, considering some of the, er, “amazing” things I’ve been known to eat….


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