My co-worker was regaling me with the story of how they crapped their pants at work 2 days ago. I laughed, they laughed, it was a mortifying experience for them but it's done and over with.
Then I started getting gaseous. I was farting up a storm, and they were quite pungent. Nothing like gassing out your co-worker while dealing with youth being horribly rambunctious (sometimes I wish the kids were my children and I could put them in timeout, or spank them! ANYWAY...) youth.
Then it hits. I realize a fart I was about to release was not, in fact, a fart. My eyes widen in fear as I rush as quickly as I can to the bathroom. Holy sweet peeing out of my butthole HANNAH! I was mortified because the bathroom is much like the cells...metal door, cinder block walls... every noise my body was producing was being reverberated (and my co-worker was kind enough to let me know they heard me).
I finally leave the bathroom, having sprayed copious amounts of airfreshner to attempt and cover the deadly odor that had escaped my butt, and go about my business. But now I'm nauseous and doing that moaning/humming that most people do when trying NOT to puke. OH - and the kids finally went to sleep (THANK GOD!). But my co-worker was having a heck of a time not joining me in the nausea department due to the fact that my excrement smell was not being masked very well by the spray (I EVEN SHUT THE BATHROOM DOOR AND IT STILL SNUCK OUT!!!).
So about 5 more bathroom time experiences occur, and I finally begin to close the office door (the bathroom is located in the staff office...away from where youth can access it) so that I might save my co-worker the horror of hearing my internal organs falling out of my anus.
Then it's time to go home. I go to the bathroom before leaving, but nothing comes out. PRAISE THE LORD, IT MIGHT BE OVER! Yeah...wishful thinking. I am on the freeway headed home, dealing with rush-hour traffic (which is exacerbated by the construction that's going on), when traffic comes to almost a complete stop. I am in my vehicle, screaming "GET OUT OF THE WAY! I NEED A BATHROOM NOW!" because my stomach had begun doing the telltale rumbling. I start moaning and groaning, and then singing "Gotta poop. Gotta poop. Gotta poop right now. Please let me make it home so I don't poop in the car. Gotta poop!"
My the grace of Allah I make it home! I get out of the car, open the front door, and realize the flood gates have begun to fail. I RUSH to the bathroom but didn't quite make it. I don't know how it all worked out the way it did, but I was mid-pants off and managed to maneuver the flood coming out of my butt INTO my pants (so as not to get it on the floor...) and eventually get myself to stop long enough to sit on the toilet.
Now I've got my pants and shirt washing (I began to throw up at the same time...it was quite a sight...thank JEEBUS I MADE IT HOME), I'm sitting here typing up this wonderful tale whilst downing some pepto bismol...and hoping that whatever it is that has decided to curse me today works its way out of my body, and soon!
Because dang!
