Andy sat up from the bed as I was wobbling my way back from the closet.
“Nothing, go back to sleep.”
“Seriously, what are you doing, you look ridiculous?”
“Nothing. Jesus, stop stalking me,” I snapped.
“Just move your legs apart,” he insisted.
I stood glaring at him from the entrance to our walk-in closet and slowly moved my thighs apart. There was a series of weird puckering sounds, and with a light thud, the balls once again dropped to the floor.
“Did you just shit on the carpet?” he screamed.
“No, God! They are exercise balls for my vagina; do we have no boundaries anymore?” I cried.
Fat Girl Walking by Brittany Gibbons