Fair Warning: This post contains TMI. About my bodily funtions. I know. How totally unlike me.
Pregnancy ruined my body.
I'm not even talking about my purple stretch-marked, now protruding belly either.
I'm talking about my insides.
Since getting pregnant and consequently having a baby, things don't work like they used to.
For instance, if I have a feeling that I have to go to the bathroom, it means I have to go to the bathroom.
Right now.
There's no waiting, no holding, no dancing. There's just going.
With that preface, my stomach has been feeling a little iffy for several days.
I had it under control.
Until Tuesday.
I was on my way back to the office from lunch when I got that feeling.
You know.
The OH-EM-GEE I'm-going-to-poop-my-pants-if-I-don't-find-a-toilet-right-now feeling.
I was less than 300 yards from a toilet so I thought I could handle it.
But then...
Oh, but then...
Turns out I was coming back from lunch at the exact same time every single Lamar student got out of class.
And I was stuck behind The Nicest Man in the World, who was letting everyone and their dog cut in front of him.
Usually, I would be in love with The Nicest Man in the World, but in this instance, I was cussing him up and down, slamming my fist against my steering wheel, "Please move traffic, PLEASE MOVE. I HAVE TO GET TO A BATHROOM!"
It was clear that the traffic wasn't moving as fast as I needed it to...and that I might have to make alternative plans.
My first thought was to just turn off my car, lock it, leave it in the middle of the road, and make a run for it.
But running was out of the question.
I began to get desperate.
I started trying to figure out which side of the pedestrian bridge I should squat on so that less people would see me.
Had I been in the country, that would have been a really good option.
But not so much on a college campus.
I pictured myself being hauled to jail for lewd and lascivious behavior and/or exposing myself to a minor (or many minors) and having to register as a sex offender for the rest of my life.
It was then that I started to panic.
I was going to soil myself.
I started looking frantically around my car for something, anything I could put under me to protect my car's seat.
I remembered that I had one of Carolyn's diapers in my purse.
I whipped it out, unfolded it, and put it on the seat beside me.
Then the traffic started to move...just enough to give me hope.
Nevertheless, I started to sweat.
I pulled into the parking lot, left my car running, grabbed the diaper just in case, and biting my lip, made a mad dash for the women's restroom.
Three men right by the front door started to question me about the diaper but stopped immediately when I gave them that "if you ask me about this diaper, I might just poo all over you" look.
I made it to the bathroom literally right in the nick of time.
Thank heavens.
And to all of you who are now snickering, don't even try to tell me this has never happened to you.
4 comments:
Been there done that. Only difference is I had a child in the car and had to grab him and his car seat. They made the trip to the rest room with me. Oh the joys of parenthood!
I'm laughing so hard right now! I love a good poo story probably because... Seriously... this happens to me all the time! And, it was after pregnancy, too! :)
Yep, been there, done that. I don't think i grabbed a diaper though, i think i had a burp rag just in case. It totally screw you up inside.
OMG, I found your blog when searching for other blogs and almost every one of your articles makes me laugh or smile! Do you mind if I follow your blog?
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