The body, the embarrassing noise factory.  To cover the embarrassment of night time digestive noises my partner and I have named our tummies after Harold and Maude after the nineteen seventies romance between a teenage boy and a 79 year old woman with the complete soundtrack done by Cat Stevens.  When the stomach noises begin, they are now explained as a product of our alter ego, one of which is derived from a sick and simeloutaneously adorable narrative from the media.  It somehow soothes the humiliations of these inevitable biological interruptions, during cuddling time.   And provide some relief to the closed door topic.