I was having my 3am BM last night when I heard Sarah whimpering at the door again. Thanks to a nightly spoonful of Perdiem, I’m pretty regular these days. I initially hated waking in the middle of the night because it usually takes Cindy about three to five calls to wake up and untie me, and I generally have to go pretty badly the instant I open my eyes; however, the necessity to contain my waste has been a great muscle flexer for my sphincter, and Dr. Gutt even attested during my last “Man Smear,” as I call it, (he’s qualified) that my rectum has the gripping power of a three-year-old child. The other day, I spent a private 45 minutes trying to lift a quarter off our Spanish bathroom tiles with it, but I couldn’t. In Saigon, I saw a lady of the night pick up a Thai 10 baht coin with her vagina, but she had youth on her side as she was only about 13. Big difference. I think I’d need a thumb down there or something.
Anyway, Sarah was at the door the full 38 minutes I was on the john, and no amount of shooing would allow me any privacy. But when I realized I was out of toilet paper, Sarah came to my rescue with a small stack of coffee filters that she slid under the door. Her fingers were actually within two of the cones and she repeated a “come here” gesture with them until I realized she meant for me to use their shape to scoop instead of merely wipe. She’s amazing. I don’t believe I’ll ever go back to regular TP.
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2 months ago