I get home last night and Mr. Hester greets me at the door of my SUV in the garage, hands me little Princess.  Here is how the conversation ensue's:

Him:  "I'm so glad your home, I've had to poop for over an hour".

Me:  "Huh!  Why haven't you gone?"

Him:  "What was I supposed to do, take her in the bathroom with me while I grunted?" (this said as he is practically running in the house).

Me:  (chasing him through the house because I think this is very funny and want to fuck with him) "Why do you think she can't just stay in the living room while you go to the bathroom?"

Him:  "She might start crying" (said through the bathroom door, because I've chased him all the way in there)

Me:  "You can't shit if she crys?"

Him:  "No!  Besides that you know how long it takes me to poop and what if she gets into something while I'm in here"

Me:  "That's what the baby gates are for.  If your that worried then put her in her crib"

Him:  "No, she might cry"

Me:  "Crying won't hurt her"

Him:  "No, but I won't be able to poop if she is crying"

Now, I'm laughing the whole time because I'm just fucking with him. Then I think - hey, he hasn't ever held his poop for me.  He must really love her - you think?