Monday, December 12, 2011

What do 8 Mistakes Make?

Saturday.   Mistake # 1:  Came across two of those Justice (if you are not familiar with this store, don't worry,  you are either smarter than me, or don't have pre-teen girls) cards in my wallet.
You know these kinds of cards.  Spend $50, get $25 off deals.  Expiration: Monday.

Mistake #2: We leave the house right around dinner time.  (allow me to explain: Dinner time to MY kids, is anytime between 5pm and 7:30pm.  There is no such thing as skipping dinner,  or eating a big breakfast, big lunch, no dinner.  My kids will go to bed and whine that they never had "dinner" if they didn't eat it during that time frame or there were not three specific meals)

Mistake #3: We decide to go to one of those restaurants that serves bar type food in the family section.  One of those restaurants we have said - "Let's never go there again", yet, we find ourselves forced to eat there for lack of viable affordable alternative options.

Mistake #4: We get Starbucks right next to the dreaded girls clothing store.  We leave the drinks in the car thinking...

Mistake #5: We won't be long.  No more than 20 minutes long.

The store is pretty crowded.  Lots of guys looking like they would give ANYTHING to be somewhere else.  I am betting ladies, you could ask for and receive just about anything you want if it meant getting them out of that store.

We queue.  Which wraps around the displays of junk trinkets and all the little girls can be heard begging and pleading their very important cases.  Tolerance and strength levels are low.  There are many "Go ahead, but hurry ups" heard.

Long story short here - the store had 40% off everything. We thought we were making out with the cards and the discount.  When the final tally was announced we were $50 over budget.  Apparently it's one or the other.  Sale price/No card, Discount Card/No sale price.  I slink out to the car -you know, "to warm it up" as the discussion between the hubby and the gum popping sales girl gets heated.  The hubby comes out of the store 20 minutes later with no bags/no clothes/no Christmas outfits. (which quite honestly, was the ONLY and best idea we had all night)

As we were driving away, one of the girls pipes up and says "What about the necklace I have in my hand?"  WHOOPS - we take that back too.  The other customers were cheering the hubby on for making a stand, but didn't dare leave their place in line or follow.

I still needed something for the girls to wear for Christmas so I suggest one more stop on the way home.  Meanwhile, my stomach is starting to do a funky little dance.  But I internally breathe through the cramping.
Mistake #6

We stop at the next destination.  I am walking towards the store telling myself, in and out in 15, drive home in 30, I CAN MAKE IT.  Breathe through it.  Mistake #7



By the time we get to our department I am sweating, praying, pacing, panicking.  Stomach is turning and making noises.  Hubby notices.  Girls start asking questions loudly - "Are you sick,  are you going to puke, do you have to go to the bathroom?"

I decide I am stuck.  I won't make it home. I have to use the bathroom right here, RIGHT NOW.  I leave them to the racks, and high tail it to the restroom.

IT'S CLOSED.  FOR CLEANING.

I pace.  I am sweating.  I am staring into the display of an Angel tree, praying to every single one of them that I do not poop my pants in the middle of the store.
I think worriedly that all the praying and wishing didn't work so well for my brother. 

I have a momentary pause in severe abdominal cramping and go to check on the hubby and girls.  Mistake #8

There is a Justin Bieber T-shirt in the cart and that is it.
I am doubling over.
I high-tail it back to the restroom area.
STILL CLOSED.

I notice that I am not the only one waiting which makes matters even worse.  I realize it's going to be crowded by the time they open the restroom back up, and I am afraid that I will kill someone with what is bound to come out of me.
I take a moment to practice my breathing while making a PLAN B.  We ARE in a clothing store after all. WORSE case scenario, I CAN buy new pants, underwear, socks, shoes. IF NEEDED.

Finally a woman with a small child who has to go as badly as I do, interrupts what is now the cleanest restroom in history and I wait until she leaves.  Well, I had to explain my situation to the hubby and kids first, who are nervously wondering what it might be like to KNOW someone who has pooped their pants IN the store.
Finally I am sitting. In the bathroom. Alone.  I have flushed the toilet at least 13 times.  I am getting the full bidet experience each and every time.  I hear footsteps.  I know I am on limited time.  I have to stop dying, get my hands washed and out of the restroom before anyone knows I am the one responsible.
Somehow I accomplish this feat.  The hubby and girls are waiting.  I am speed walking to the check out while my youngest is asking lots of questions.  LOUDLY.



It was a night I do not want to re-live ever.  But know, that you are not alone when one day you too find yourself in the bathroom having to continuously flush.....

5 comments:

  1. Ohhhhh, I feel for you. I'm forever underestimating how badly I have to go to the bathroom and waiting almost til it's too late. At least when it happens to me I'm usually in the woods. Ugh...not like you could tuck in behind a rack of clothes. Glad you made it! :)

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  2. I'm so sorry that you had to experience that trauma. Pooping in a public restroom is traumatic enough- but to have to hold in a brewing volcano is another story. We are much too polite. I have caused myself many gastrointestinal issues in the past because of my courtesy toward others' sense of smell. You are a survivor- thank you for sharing your story with us- so that as our bodies involuntarily forge ahead- we may not be afraid to forge ahead with them :-)

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  3. bwhahahahah, how awful that must have been. I hate public bathrooms and hate when this happens, but it does, at times... Good for the huibs at making his stand at Justice, I hate that store!!

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  4. Justice = crack for preteen girls. What is it what that place? My daughter is obsessed.

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  5. As horrible as I feel for you, I couldn't help chuckling a little because I have an all-too-similar experience myself. It's only funny now, years later, and only when I think about myself. What a trooper you are for sharing this with us! I hope you're feeling better and glad you made it! :)

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