Even "priveleged" folk put their pants on one leg at a time and have to poop daily. If they don't they aren't so priveleged after all.

 “The road was hard-packed with snow, and the air was crisp and clean. Orange light flickered in the trees from the fire someone had started by the shore but we’d have been able to see without it: out there the moon reflected off all that snow and made it bright enough to see the happy grin on Percy’s face. That night was warm, all the way up to the low thirties. Which may not sound like much, but when the temps drop regularly into the single digits, twenty-five starts to feel downright balmy.”

― Kendare Blake, All These Bodies