She looked up at me, eyes wide with disbelief, confusion, and hot shame. I need you to take my hand and we need to run across the street as fast as we can, mmkay?” And I had no choice but to tell her what happened for fear she would not keep up with me as I darted across the street to the nearest grocery store in hopes they had a bathroom. My daughter and I needed to get to safety STAT. I could feel my legs starting to stick together and knew I had to move fast we had to move fast. I stood cross-legged for what seemed like an eternity. The woman in the coral dress and overpriced shoes. I was a statue of a woman and knew if I moved, the hot lava would keep running down my legs and pool inside my strappy Tory Burch sandals. The laundromat was crowded and people started to stare. A thong that did not stop the force of my load but instead, split it in half and left it running down both legs. I was wearing a fucking dress with a thong. I didn’t even have a pant-crotch to cushion the blow. And probably because I’d judged my sister-in-law for dropping a brown trout on the glistening tile of the grocery store, karma was laughing her ass off, because there I was blowing mud in the middle of the laundromat. I, too, wasn’t capable of knowing my own body. I, too, was experiencing that humbling feeling of mistaking the real thing for a fart. The spin cycle was making me feel queasy and I had to brace myself by holding onto my daughter’s shoulders. I started sweating, got weak in the knees, and didn’t know who I was for a moment. There I was, bleaching my summer whites while wearing my favorite coral dress and sandals at the local laundromat, when a feeling came over me I’d never had before. I understand if you are sick or have a medical condition, shit’s gonna happen, but if you can’t get to the bathroom in time to move your bowels because you are having a Hallmark moment, then you are bad at being a human.īut those feelings escaped me (along with a huge amount of diarrhea) one fine summer morning while on vacation. Who does that? Who craps themselves in public and lets the poop nugget shimmy down their leg then kicks it under the card display, buys a card and leaves like nothing happened? Yeah, hearing this story was funny as fuck because it didn’t happen to me, and at the time, I passed a shit ton of judgment. Those undies could have contained the wild butt truffle and saved the person who mops the floors from finding the treat after it had a chance to seep in the cracks of the tile floor. Also, it was a bad day to decide not to wear underwear. She laughed as she told me she how she thought it was just a fart, but quickly realized farts don’t feel like hot, steamy chunks rolling down your trousers. Instead of heading to the loo, she stood there laughing her ass off at stupid greeting cards because she thought the feeling would pass.Īnd I guess it kind of did pass if you consider dropping a turd the size of a walnut down your pant leg and watching it splat on the floor the same thing as “passing.”
My sister-in-law once told me about something horrific that happened to her: She was in the grocery store looking for a card when she felt a turtlehead coming on.
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