A lot.
And alright, technically Fiance is 23. But still. Emotionally I'm still 18, so I think that gives us a median age of 22. Here is an excerpt from a conversation we had three days ago:
Fiance: Should we go to bed?
Me: Yeah, bed.
Fiance: Okay.
(2 minutes later)
Fiance: You comfortable?
Me: ...Yeah.
Fiance: Are you?
Me: Yeah, but my tummy kind of hurts.
Fiance: What kind of hurt?
Me: Well I don't want to go to sleep right away coz I'm kind of worried I'm gonna poo the bed.
Fiance: Hahaha.
Me: Don't laugh. I'm seriously concerned.
Fiance: ...Well now so am I!
For the record, I didn't poo the bed. But I definitely think it is time to stop drinking Red Bulls after 7pm.
For me, the best thing about being in a committed (re: engaged) relationship is the love. Love is amazing. But the second thing for sure, is the access I now have to men's underwear. Oh, my god. I have never experienced anything so comfortable in my life. I live in men's underwear. It's like wearing pajama pants all the time - except you don't have to wear undies underneath. I can finally feel the wind on my privates, and isn't that every girls dream? I say it is. Hello? I'm a girl. And I remember being young:
Santa: Alright little girl, and what would you like for Christmas?
Me: Well I don't know Santa..
Santa: Oh come on. There must be something.
Me: Okay. Is there any way I can get the general support of a Kaiser Brazilian-cut brief without the feeling that my underwear is going up my butt?
Santa:...Yes. Yes there is.
It's weird. Honestly though, I feel like the only people who really don't appreciate the freedom with which Fiance and I discuss our bowel movements are Nicole (our roommate) and my parents:
Me: Did I tell you, Jordan made Mexican food the other night.
Mum: Wow.
Me: It was really awesome.
Dad: Sounds good.
Me: Yeah it was. Except we both totally got diarrhea afterwards.
The couple that shits together sticks together.
