One morning, I woke up later than normal. I had taken my wife Dawn to the doctor the evening before and we’d then stopped by to see some friends.
I heard an odd thudding from somewhere. Weirdly, Dawn arose earlier than I had.
I followed the sound through the house and looked into the smaller bathroom.
Dawn was kneeling on the bathroom floor next to the toilet, holding a small hammer. The lid to the toilet was raised. As I watched, she swung the small hammer and hit the toilet bowl. Then again and again.
“Stop!” I hollered. “What are you doing?” I thought she might have lost her mind.
Dawn turned her head toward me, obviously aggravated. “The doctor told me to be sure to check for hard stools this morning.”
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 