I'm dying. Turned off the SHSU bowl game, took the dogs outside for a nice leisurely pre-bedtime bathroom break. I myself hosed down the rock formation behind what was previously a water feature. The dogs meander inside, climb the ramp and get in bed. Wife is loving on the dogs, giving belly rubs. “Did he poop while he was outside?” me: “I think so, we were out there for a while. “When I listen to his tummy I can hear his bowels moving” I lost my shit. Belly laughed for several minutes. “Honey, you are hearing digestive noises, you can't hear his bowels move because that would mean he was actually in the act of pooping. Those noises mean he just pooped and his digestive tract is working on the food he ate tonight” Of course she doesn't believe me and asks the dog if he needs to go back outside and poop. By this time Ive got the bed adjusted to zero G and turned the bed vibrator to high, getting settled in for the night. (aw fuck, she's on call and the bat phone just rang, somewhere in Texas a parent, child, and LEO are having an encounter and someone is headed to jail.)