Embarassing Moments

Okay, so I am going to share a very, very embarassing moment. But you have to promise to share one of yours. That means if you keep reading, you have to post a reply.

Promise?

Pinky swear?

Alright, here we go.

June 19, 2000. Our 8th anniversary. T took me to dinner at my very favorite restaurant, Red Lobster. It is so yummy, and I swim in butter while I am there.

Now, I have learned that after I eat a Red Lobster, I should immediately go into the restrooom before we go home. You know how butter is a lubricant and makes everything slippery? Well, that is exactly what it does to my intestinal track. Unfortunately, this story takes place before I came to this very important realization.

When we were done, we went over to the mall to look around. And while we were looking around, we stopped at the cell phone store and decided to get new cell phones.

So while we were standing there, I realized that I needed to go to the bathroom. Now. I asked where the nearest bathroom, and of course it was clear at the opposite end of the mall. I start walking, and then I start walking faster.

I soon realize that I'm not going to make it. And I don't. But the worst part is that it wasn't pee. Nope, the other one. And no matter how hard I clench as I am walking, it keeps coming.

Stop me if this is TMI!

I get to the bathroom and just stand in the stall. What am I going to do? Fortunately, I still have a child in diapers, so I had wet wipes in my purse. But it is everywhere. I mean major blowout!

So I washed down my legs with the wet wipes and I had to wash out my pants and garments in the toilet...and then put them back on. I mean, what else am I going to do? After a good 15 minutes, I am finally able to leave.

I find T and tell him we have to leave, NOW! But he insists we have to sign the contracts for the new cell phones. No, I am leaving, I will meet you at the car.

On the way home, T starts to get the same feelings. But we made it home in time for him to get to the bathroom. Imagine my sister's faces (my babysitters) when we race in the door and T plows through to the bathroom and I plow through to the bedroom, without even talking to them.

I swore I would tell no one about this moment, but we are all human and what good is that experience if I can't gross someone out or make someone laugh?

Okay, I showed you mine, now you show me yours!