Poopapalooza, Part Deux

Last night Sean and I went to the uber-swanky Short Hills Mall for a little shopping and dinner (there's a great Italian restaurant there). We are in the process of giving our only bathroom a little facelift-when we moved in (six years ago) we did the absolute basics in there, with the understanding that eventually we'd fix the rest up-and we ran to Restoration Hardware to buy a shower curtain and bath rug. And the bonus-a White Sale-NICE!

We've decided to do the colors in the bathroom in sky blue (with other blues in the same color family added in) and white-adding white beadboard to the wall to cover up the pits the last owners left there when they tore the wall tile down, rip out the 30 year old tile in the tub, get new fixtures,take out the laminate flooring and add tile, put in a new vanity mirror and lights, blah blah blah. I am extremely fortunate that Sean gets a hard-on when doing this stuff-plus, he's so good at it-and since he's doing all the work we can splurge a bit on some things. In fact, the man is downstairs mixing paint to get the right color of blue for the wall (we had leftover blue paint from the original living room that he's doctoring up to make the shade we need)-how did I luck out with such a handy guy?

Well, on the way home after our yummy dinner we had to stop off in the local pharmacy to buy what Sean called my "Pooper Kit"-hemorroid cream, pads and stool softener. Upon finding the correct aisle in the store (of course, it just HAD to be right next to the pharmacy pick-up counter, which was heavily populated at the time), I was amazed at the amount of medications used to treat those little fuckers. There were creams, cooling gels, medicated pads, suppositories, and swabs; all advertising their charms and guaranteeing to shrink, numb, and blast them into oblivion, whist adding oils to protect that delicate area from overdrying. So, I was just standing there, overwhelmed, and NOT about to ask for help. I finally grabbed my two tubes (Preparation H, if you really want to know-one ointment, one cream), found the stool softener (Colace-my mom says that they give it to the patients in her assisted living facility, and well, if the old people can deal with it so can I) and met Sean in the card aisle. I shoved the entire lot into his hands and told him to go and pay at the counter. Payback is a bitch-that's what he gets for making fun of me.......now the nice counter man can think he has a pooper problem.

Anyway, after I got home, I slathered the stuff in the appropriate area, popped a Colace, and went to bed. After breakfast this morning I got the inevitable need to.....well, you know.....and made my way upstairs to the torture chamber....oh, sorry, I meant toilet...and found...........THAT IT ACTUALLY WORKED-WOOT!

We're not out of the woods yet, but no bleeding (was still a little sore), and the lump has definitely shrunken down, so it means that we're on our way.

Now, if only my ute and vah-jay-jay would be as cooperative as my pooper.........*sigh*