Some people wonder if there is a God.

I wonder why in the name of God it takes men so long to crap.

When does this phenomenon start, exactly? I know for a fact my toddler can squeeze one out in the 15 seconds between “Mama! Potty!” and dragging him into the bathroom. BAM. Instant poop. And yet wives everywhere are standing by the door for 20 minutes, holding their purse and sighing because just as they were headed out their husband said “Oh, I want to use the bathroom before we go.”

I will admit that since becoming a mom I do my fair share of hiding in the bathroom with a magazine or my iPhone just for the PEACE AND QUITE that comes from a closed door and a ventilation fan. But 90% of the time I’m doing it with my pants on. I’ve been pregnant for 18 of the last 34 months. The hemorrhoid situation is bad enough on it’s own without an hour sitting on the toilet. AREN’T YOU GLAD I SHARED THAT? I’ve also mastered the art of getting my business done in the 20 seconds between “uh oh the baby is waking up and needs to nurse but I have GOT to GO” and “screaming starving angry baby that will take no less than 90 minutes to get back to sleep”. If there was a speed pooping event at the Olympics, I’d win a gold medal.

But men? Men are the three-toed-sloth of going number 2. They spend so long crapping moss might grow on them. Is it a biological thing? Did I miss a day in health class that explained that humans with Y chromosomes need extra time in their schedule for bowel movements? It might have been the same day they explained why Mortal Kombat is awesome or the appeal of backwards baseball caps.

My theory is that crapping themselves is every guy’s BIGGEST FEAR and so as soon as they get the tiniest inkling of an idea that maybe they might have to poop sometime soon they run for the bathroom.

And women everywhere who have pooped on the delivery table scoff at them.

It’s mildly annoying at home – “Sorry I left you with two screaming children while you were in the middle of making dinner! Nature called! And we had a really really long chat! Is it time to eat?” – but it’s completely awful in public. The 20 square feet around the entrance to a rest stop bathroom isn’t exactly the most child-friendly place on Earth and there’s a limited amount of time a toddler is entertained by a water fountain before you are both soaking wet and crying.

And that fulfills my poop-talk quota for the month. Why no, potty training is NOT going super-well. What makes you ask?