Before lunchtime today, Jeff bounded upstairs. Fortune had it so that he'd bump into Ann, who, upon learning that he was heading to the bathroom to take a shit, forbade him to proceed any further.
She: "I need to brush my teeth and wash my face and I don't wanna do that while breathing your poo fumes."
So Jeff trudges downstairs to use the bathroom there. Less than two seconds after he steps inside thinking he could finally shit in peace, my father knocks on the door. "Who's in there?"
A grunt.
"Huh?"
A grunt.
"Oh, okay. Uh we're eating lunch soon."
A couple minutes later, my mother yells out that lunch is ready. She knocks on the bathroom door. Jeff? Jeff? Jeff we're eating soon. Jeff?
my dad informs her that jeff's taking a shit and to leave him alone.
We begin to eat lunch. Typically Jeff is the biggest presence at mealtimes. So suddenly everyone else (aside from my parents) starts wondering where Jeff is. my grandparents, who always beef up the menu whenever Jeff's home, were especially perturbed by his absence.
Frowny grandpa: Dah di? Dah di, nuh? (motions to my mom to get jeff)
My mother walks over to the bathroom and this time starts knocking at the door in a panic. Are you done yet, Jeff? Jeff? What's taking so long -- you still in there?
Poor guy just wanted to poo in peace.
