Growing up, my family was painfully modest. I couldn't say the word "bra" without blushing until I was 23. When my mom bought tampons I used to leave her at the cashier alone and pretend like I didn't know who she was until we left the store. We just didn't talk about things like that.
Ben and I got married in the Jordan River Temple in Utah. We had our reception at my uncle's house in Sandy. It was the perfect July day and the clouds moved in at just the right time to make our reception perfectly warm without being too hot. Cold Stone Creamery catered our reception, fulfilling a life-long dream of mine. I wrote a whole page about our wedding day here.
At promptly 8:00 Ben grabbed my hand and said it was time to go. We waved to those who were still waiting in the receiving line as we made our way to our car, which my brothers and friends had lovingly trashed. We cleaned it up enough to drive out of my uncle's driveway and down the street to a self-service car wash, where we scrubbed it down together the best we could without getting our clothes messy. Then we were off on our honeymoon.
As we drove we watched the sun set behind the mountains to the west. We listened to "Number 11" by The City On Film and I cried as I held my new husband's hand. We stopped at the grocery store to buy some food for our hotel room. The sweet cashier told me that I looked pretty and asked where I was going.
"Um, I got married this morning. We just left our reception. We need some snacks for our hotel room because we don't plan on leaving it for about three days."
Yeah, that's not awkward at all. Poor girl got way more than she bargained for.
We arrived at our little Bed & Breakfast a few minutes later. We had a cozy little room with a nice big jacuzzi tub right in the middle. The toilet was in a small closet facing the bed.
Our honeymoon was great. We only left our room to eat and then we quickly retreated behind our locked door and our drawn curtains. We felt as if we were the only people on earth. We talked, we watched movies, we got to know each other. We had no idea what time it ever was. We didn't care, and it really didn't matter. Day faded into night that melted back into day. We were so in love.
After a day or two it happened. I had to poop. I was horrified with myself. How was I going to do something so gross when I was surrounded by such beauty and love? I was Ben's goddess. Goddesses don't poop. The toilet was right there across from the bed. He would know exactly what I was doing. What would he think of his new bride?
I devised a plan. I asked him to go down to the car to check on it and to get some stuff. He thought this was a great idea. We even decided maybe it would be good to have 10 minutes or so of alone time. Perfect.
After a prolonged goodbye he left the room. I beelined it for the bathroom. Ten minutes would give me enough time to do my dirty work and air out the room so Ben would never even know what happened.
My plan started out perfect. He left. I did my business. I turned on the fan and sat back on the bed feeling completely confident he would never know that this was all just a scheme for me poop in secret.
Shortly after I settled onto the bed, Ben burst back into the room, about 8 minutes ahead of schedule. He had forgotten the keys to the car. I was mortified. The room was stinky and I knew it. He took one look at me, smelled the air, and cried with a huge smile on his face, "I thought you said you didn't poop!"
We laughed and laughed. And that's how our marriage began.
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