I think of my bowels as a strange toddler I didn’t choose to have.  Before leaving the house you always have to go try to get your kid to have a pee.  Except with my bowels, I visit the bathroom and make sure I have a poo.   I don’t have to feel the need to go, I can go any time and still produce something.  (Literally just nipped out for a pee and I was gone for ten minutes).   Sometimes it works, sometimes I’ll still need to go again fifteen minutes later, just like a two year old.  Doesn’t matter what I’ve eaten, what I’ve drunk, what I’ve done, whether I’m tired, whether I’m on my period, whether I’m stressed, or even if I’ve painted my nails for f’s sake.  

My toddler bowels can throw a tantrum at any time or in any place.  She likes to keep me guessing.  “Oh mum, you’re having a bad day?  That’s my queue to act super, especially annoying!”.  “Oh mum, I kept you up all night?  Fun!  I’ll make sure you’re late for work too!”.  “Look mum!  A long line at the supermarket checkout!  I’m going to make your life a living hell and laugh about it!”.  “Noooo, I’m not sleeping tonight, we should have a chat every hour until daylight”.  Yes, my bowels, my toddler.  

Except I actually liked my child when she was a toddler.  Most of the time.