I've been poisoned.

Let's start with this statement: I grew up in a house of farts. And I somehow came out pretending that assily functions do not exist. In fact, my cousin once stated the truest of all statements - that I did not know how to fart out loud until I was 18. I'm a potty prude. Of all things.

So yesterday after someone (okay, me) had the bright idea to go to ihop for breakfast, this all changed. Because it had to. This weekend we probably contracted salmonella, gave ourselves food poisoning, and I got attacked by mosquitoes and my ankle and foot have golf ball sized bites that I can't stop scratching even if I wanted to. This can be summed up in three conversations:

The Salmonella.
Justin (friday): Oh, so I may have fed us salmonella tainted peanut butter. I read the recall report today.
me: oh, okay. I'm sure we're fine.

The ihop.
Justin: I don't want water here, it will be gross.

Me: No one has ever died from drinking tap water. Except all of those people in Erin Brockovich.

And the squitos, but I will spare you the photo because this entire post is bad enough.
Me in a picture message to Justin: I wanted to share my foot boobies with you, because I'm not disgusting enough already today.

And bonus convo to prove that Justin isn't perfect all of the time.
Me: I'm going home to die now.
Justin: Leave the bathroom door open so JMEOWW can find you.
Me: BROKEN UP.

So much sharing has happened in the past two days and I didn't want you all to feel left out. So, you're welcome. This is step one in the process of overcoming my potty prudishness. Step two is moving in together. And then it's all over.