emBAREASSing Series: Episode 1

I was chatting with a friend about how my life is just a series of embarrassing moments strung together, and she mentioned devoting a blog for the sole purpose of telling my stories. She also said "secret blog," but... I'm just going to throw that out the window and allow everyone who desires to laugh at my misfortunes to do so. Just pretend I'm right next to you having a good laugh too and it won't count as laughing AT me, right!? Just to warn you, the reader, most, if not all, of my stories involve #1 and #2. That's right. It's about feces. So... if that's not your kind of story for a good laugh, I'd probably stop reading now. Like, RIGHT now. (Sorry Mom. This is happening. And I know that me telling my stories would absolutely mortify you, so just pretend you didn't see this post. Or... any other future posts for that matter). 

Let's just start this first story out of the gate with a BANG! Literally... This Story happened when I first got married. A fresh little newly wed (who was a virgin before the honeymoon), who still wanted her husband to only think good things about her. And to make this more authentic, I'm going to recite my journal to tell this story more accurately. Oh yes. I wrote this story down in my journal. There's just some things that need to be burned into your mind, and this... is one of them.

December 9th 2008

Dear Journal,

Most embarrassing moment.

I pooped all over the bathroom wall today.

P.S. James thinks it's ridiculous that I pooped all over the wall, and he wants you to know how patient he is with my horrific smelling crap that went all over the wall today! 

It wasn't on purpose, mind you. I mean, how many people wake up and say, "I think I'll poop on the wall today."    -    Not many. And if any do, they are probably mentally disabled somehow. Anyway, it was a complete and utter accident. 

My stomach was hurting really bad, and I KNEW I just had to relieve A LOT of gas. Plus urine, and maybe some poo poo. So once James and I got home I went straight to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and peed. And then I still felt a lot of pressure on my stomach and I knew it was A LOT of gas, and every time I pushed it wouldn't come out. I sat for a bit and then decided it needed a little bit of help. And that help would speedily come from taking a different position. So... with pants still down, I took to the floor. You see, if I sit with my face planted on the floor with rear high in the air I can ALWAYS toot. And good big toots at that! So ... I began. (Stick figure of me drawn in journal at this part with rear in the air). 

With my face on the floor and my butt raised high and started farting. Loud and very relieving farts. My stomach was already feeling better! It was great! Then, near the end of my relief session on the bathroom floor I gave a really good fart and as I was doing so I pushed out REALLY HARD and then, it happened! A big wad of Diarrhea poop flew out my butt! Yikes! My face was of shock and horror! I got up and checked to see if any had gotten on my pants, which were still wrapped around my ankles. Luckily none had dripped, splattered, or hit me anywhere! But to my dismay I found that although I had been lucky, my floor and wall had not. I had shot a large piece of diarrhea  out my butt and it fell and splattered into two large pieces on the floor, each about the circumference of a fist, but looked thin like mud pies. I had pushed so hard that they had completely missed me and hit near the wall and upon landing to the floor splattered ALL OVER THE WALL! It even hit the toilet paper rolls, the vent on the floor, and both towels that were hanging about 2 feet off the floor! It was disgustingly everywhere! 

I was in a panic! I didn't know what to do! I still had to dump, so I returned to my post on the toilet. I didn't know if I should clean it up before James came up to discover me and ALL the poop, or if I should just leave it and have a good laugh with him. I was so embarrassed! So I ran and shut and locked the door (because I always leave it open, I almost never lock the bathroom door). Then I scurried to wipe up the mess as I sat on the toilet. Some of it smeared, some came off, all in all it was gross, but before I could get done, or even half way done for that matter, the door began slowly and quietly to unlock. OH NO!!! 

I screamed, "DON'T COME IN HUSBAND! IF YOU OPEN THAT DOOR I'LL KILL YOU!" 

As it began to open slowly I threw a roll of toilet paper at the door, "GET OUT! DON'T COME IN!" But it was too late. My poor, unsuspecting husband opened the door, THINKING, to a wife who was trying to slip into something "more comfortable." But to his dismay found a wife on the toilet with poop splattered everywhere with some poop smears and the most HORRIFIC and UNBEARABLE smell he had ever encountered. His initial reaction was to stay in the hall and very concerned asked, "Honey, are you O.K!? Did you fall!? What happened!?" Needless to say, I was very embarrassed. I have never crapped on the wall! And I shouldn't be crapping on the wall now that I'm 20! It was a total disaster. I felt horrible. I told my husband what had REALLY happened, and we both laughed about it for hours. In fact, I'm still laughing about it! 

I think one of the worst parts was the smell that lingered on afterwards. Even with the vent on it still somehow found it's way downstairs! My husband claimed that, that smell was worse than ... (fill in the blank). But I didn't think it was. Either way, at least I now have a terrifically, horribly, wonderful story to pass on to my children someday.

P.S. 
James also was febreezing my butt afterwards and spraying disinfectant febreeze everywhere!


Side note: James also said that poop was also on the ceiling. I say it wasn't, and he always responds with, "You weren't the one who cleaned it up!" Yes. That is true. After I finished on the toilet, James shewed me out and HE, being the totally awesome husband that he is, cleaned up the crap fest. He's pretty awesome. Thanks Husband!