Irritable Bowel Syndrome

My husband suffers from irritable bowel syndrome.  It's a condition, disease, coping mechanism that causes husbands everywhere to flee the immediate area whenever they get really irritated with you and the children and seek solace in the nearest bathroom, under the guise of needing to poop.  We've all been there.  You are desperately trying to get everyone, including yourself, dressed and out the door for something really important (soccer game, preschool graduation, the birth of your third child, etc), and you look up and discover your husband, the Robin to your Batman, is nowhere to be found. Early in your marriage, you'll be stupid enough to go look for him and be genuinely concerned about his intestinal distress.  After he pulls this crap for the third or fourth time, you'll just get pissed off and mentally make a note to never do that thing he "really likes" ever again.  Early in your marriage you might even try to encourage him to speed things up in there, so he can come out and help you. Later on, you'll realize this only makes his bowels take longer to move.

I've also noticed that my husband's irritable bowl syndrome (IBS) usually manifests itself at bedtime, usually when its time to promote good oral hygiene.  The second I start handing out toothbrushes he starts to sweat, and I know its only a matter of time before he's  off to lock himself in the bathroom.  

The thing that amazes me the most is that the children let him do it.  I can't even think about making contact with a toilet seat without clearing it with everyone in the house first, and the only time I ever get to go without an audience is when my mother in law is here.  There have even been times, when I've been desperate for a potty break, and my husband has asked if I could wait just a few more minutes while he finishes what he's doing.

In the end it all works out though.  I suffer from a multitude of syndromes myself.  My two favorites being, I forgot to thaw-it-itis and BJ deficit disorder.  The first disorder causes me to more often than not forget to thaw something out for dinner, which means we have to order take out.  If I have to spell the second one out for you, you are either to young to read this blog or have never been married.