Every single night it happens. He jumps up with the “uncontrollable urge” to 💩 just as we’re finishing dinner, leaving me to clear the table, clean up DS, wash up etc. No, he doesn’t have any digestive issues, unless you count the uncanny ability to give me the shits. Though I suspect he considers that more of a superpower than an ailment.
AIBU to be sick of men and their shit?