Re: Relations

The other day I posted this quick blurb:

"Throughout my life so far, my most successful relationships have been with very specific types of people.  These are the people that allow me to make fun of them and who listen as I describe the consistency of my bowel movements. "

Now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my husband:

"This afternoon, I thought I pooped out a cockroach. On closer inspection, it turned out to be an unmolested black olive that, evidently, I forgot to chew."

"I almost forgot: This evening I intentionally swallowed a whole black olive--washed down with beer to avoid choking. Now the waiting game begins." 

I really couldn't ask for more.  Friday night, I made pizza loaded with onions, tomatoes, artichokes, and black olives.  As I watched Andy engulf his slices, housing four in the time it took me to eat two, it occurred to me that he might not be chewing his food. 

I was right.  The next morning, Andy called me while I was walking to the gym.  "You're not gonna believe this!" he exclaimed.  I knew he was grading tests, so I assumed I was about to hear about another completely incoherent, illegible essay.  No.  I was in for a real treat.  He described, in lurid detail, how he shat out an intact half of a black olive. 

Last night, as you might guess from his second comment, he upped his game and swallowed a whole black olive.  I told him the same thing you might tell a little kid who swallows a quarter.  "Andy, it might take a couple days for you to get that olive back."  So he's been slurping coffee all morning, but so far, the olive is still trapped like a Chilean miner.