Poopy pants...

Oh buddy, where to start? First, I need to let you know that toilet humor IS THE funniest humor. And anybody who looks in disgust instead of cracking up uncontrollably is a big ol' faker. When me and my big brood of cousins all get together, you can bet your ass crack that the conversation will soon turn to poop and farts. It doesn't matter what the setting may be...weddings, church dinners, christmas...it always ends up the same.

Nutty poop, squishy poop, shrapnel poop, phantom poop, fiahrrea poop, goat pebble poop, crazy poop, whole food poop...etc. you get the point.

You get the point that poop is hilarious. But, only when you are talking of poop that goes directly from your or other said person's butt directly into the toilet.

Let me take you back a few years, approximately 4. I had the worst stomach ache. It was the kind of stomach pains that come in waves and make you feel like you have horrific gas. I was like this for about two days but continued working as it was after all, only a stomach ache. I needed to take some supplies to an outside site, so I went down to the basement and grabbed a 50 pound box. This should be no big deal for me. I am not hercules by any means but definately pride myself on being able to do things myself. (I'm a big girl) So, I carry the box up the two flights of stairs from the basement to my office. Oh no, here comes a stomach cramp. I bend over to set the box down, trying to not let it pull me off my feet as I am bending when a fart escapes. It's one of those farts that slowly leak out and you can't for the life of you pinch it off. It just slowly keeps on a leaking and a whinin'. So, I stand up quickly and realize that although my butt has disposed off all of it's gas that the burn is now persisting on, not the inside, but the outside of my buns. That's when the smell slaps me in the face. BLECH. I am now in a full blown panic with my mind racing a gazillion miles a minute.

"No, it was just a fart, it was not poop. I did not poop in my pants. Oh God, what is that smell. Where is everyone. Did someone hear it. Can someone smell me. What do I do. Where do I go. Why is it still burning. Do I feel something running down my leg."

I take off running out of my office, trying not to let my butt cheeks rub together, and head for the second floor bathroom which is usually unoccupied. I lock myself in a stall and "check" the specimen. Yes yes yes, oh no. I have squishy water poo with something that looks like carrot slivers happily staring back at me.

Anyway, this is a favorite story with my friends as my one friend who also worked there had to assist me. Did she come down to tell me it was ok since I was sick? Hell no, I called her from the phone in the hallway and could hear her laughing through the stairwell from the next floor up. Gotta love your friends!

I didn't have anything crazy happen this week so, I thought you all might get a kick out of my poopy pants story. If you are lucky, there might be a sequel to this later this week.