Letting the “Shit” out of the Bag
Monday, April 19th, 2010There’s always that transition period from casual dating to honeymoon phase to long-term relationship. For women, it’s hard, we go from waxing our legs, dousing ourselves with fragrance, puting on our faces, to showing the TRUE side of us, the burping, farting, pooping slobs that we truly are.
I still remember my transitioning period, the strategic step-by-step ways to have him accept me as a defecating human being. It’s always easy for men to start passing gas around you, the next step is to have him poop, give that a few weeks (less if you’re staying at his place for 3+ days a week already). Soon he’ll be wondering why you never pass gas or has sensed you pooping.
I was lucky, he had wanted me to pass gas in front of him, it was like a wide open door for me to trample on through, but I’m not THAT dumb.
On one of our trips to the grocery store, I picked up my usual magazine and we headed home, this time, instead of leaving it on the coffee table, I discreetly put in in the bathroom on top of his pooping materials. It’s perfect! Subtle, yet still being quite straight forward. Of course I still don’t let him catch me, the magazine is still there almost in immaculate conditions (no shit stains, pee droplets, or worn out corners…we’re not barbarians ladies).
From then on, things just fell into place, although my case of food poisoning did help a bit.
But with a box of matches neatly tucked away in the bathroom and a small bottle of perfume, he’ll never know what hit him until it’s time. The makeup I put on became less and less, i extended my shaving/waxing schedule one day at a time. Soon I was back to my old nasty self, and him fully accepting me not as the non-farting, non-burping, always perfectly eye lined girl that I was, but Victoria, the normal pooping, sweating, human being that I naturally am. =D