Shit factory

[…] because you have neither the time nor the money to do any of the things you really wanted to do in life before you created a little shit factory of your own?

“Damn it, Sandy,” he fumed. “You knew when we got married that I was going to hunt and fish any time I wanted to. I told you that. I said I'd marry you and take care of you, but I told you nothing was going to get in the way of my hunting and fishing. Not you. Not some five-day-a-week job. And not that little shit factory on your lap.”

"[…] Rumor has it that I pooped with wild abandon." Barb laughed and playfully smacked my arm. "You were a little shit factory."