I have always mocked and enjoyed people and their poo stories. Not the gross gory kind like in Tucker Max’s “Tucker Max tries butt sex hilarity does not ensue”,but the ones where you thought you were almost here kind of story, where you just can’t hit the finish line before sliding’ into home.
One of my favorite stories from my Step-Dad, involved him, his fire turn outs, and his SCBA (the oxygen tank/mask you see them wear). See, when the fire bell rings, the stories are true…..you leave with what you are wearing. Boxer shorts, man bikini junk, wipe/no wipe…It’s showtime!!
So my Step-Dad….he was helping the probie do dishes and didn’t make it in time for the post dinner throne visit, and what would you know, the fire bell rang. So poor Papa, he’s the first man in, valiantly fighting a house fire, when what happened?? That rumbly in your tumbly…..that sphincter tightening feeling, that there she’s blows….and how do you fight that feeling when you are fighting a house fire??
Why you pump the oxygen in your mask, run to the toilet, and relieve the pressure while smoke is billowing down above your head.
Or someone else that won’t be named….(cough, cough) married to him, that after a date of eating really expensive seafood had to have a private moment with his undershirt and a secured construction site.
All the while, I chortle with glee over the fact that these stories are so AWESOME because they have never happened to me!!! Until last night….
See, I have been working my ass off and not getting home until late. But hubby, the great man that he is surprised me with my favorite Vietnamese food (extra spicy, of course) and not only did I enjoy it for dinner but it was extra spicy and fantastic for lunch. And then, I drove home, and I shit you not, it was pouring rain with sudden chances of Tornados…in SAN FRANCISCO??
And wouldn’t you guess, just wouldn’t you guess that I got those same kinds of feelings. Feelings that made my eyes start to water, and my knuckles turn white, and for my pants to feel like they belonged to a small child. Feelings that made me look around frantically for wipes, just in case. Just in case, I rapidly pulled over on the last 30 minutes of my commute that just happens to be a dark windy road. A dark turn out appeared….and I dove for it! After my perfect imitation of the sights, sounds and cone depth of a volcano. Everything seemed right in the world again.
Until I looked up into the frightened eyes of a couple who were trying to do their good Samaritan deed and see if a stranded passenger needed some help. I didn’t need help, but I was almost tempted to ask them to hand me a wipe.
So after they slowly backed away (I think that I am not only going to be featured in my blog, but I am pretty sure that I might be featured in someone else’s) I have concluded tonight, that you shouldn’t mock someone’s IBS….because now….I blow shit too!