Just shy of a month ago, I posed the question of “What’s the most klutzy thing you’ve ever done” as my “Just Curious” question of the day. Some of the responses were pouring boiling water on their leg, falling down stairs and breaking their nose while trying to tie their shoes. Stupid me told the truth and answered the question with “I crapped my pants in my sister’s kitchen once”. This of course opened up a pretty large can of worms and everyone agreed that I owe them the whole story. You can read that post and comments here.
Here is my story, sad but true…..
After my divorce, I was forced to move back in with my parents for a short time. Just long enough to get back on my feet again. During that time, I always felt like I was imposing on my parents even though they tried making it abundantly clear that I was not. None the less, I still felt that way and tried to stay out of their house as much as possible to stay out of their way. I spent a lot of time at different friends’ on week nights and weekends and at my sister’s place. I started dating again and just stayed out of their hair as much as I could.
My sister at that time was a single mother and having a pretty rough time financially. She had her own place and car but it was a huge struggle to pay for them. I would come over to visit her and bring dinner with me a few times a week and we would eat and hang out together at her place. Shortly after I started coming over to hang out, she started dating a guy that she worked with. They started out going out on weekends and I even double dated with them a couple times to get to know him a bit. I liked him and before you knew it, he moved in with my sister. They are now married with children and have been married for 12 years now.
Anyway, back to the story. Even though Eric was living with my sister, I still came over to visit my sister as often. The three of us got along really well and had fun hanging out doing whatever. One night, we all consumed a little too much alcohol and decided it would be best for me to stay the night there instead of getting behind the wheel of a car and driving to my parents. I crashed on the couch and my sister and Eric slept in their bedroom. There was something I had to get up for the next morning and I honestly can’t remember now what it was. Work? Picking up my son from his mothers? I don’t remember what it was now but it was something I had to get up and do. I didn’t have an alarm clock next to me on the couch so my sister asked if I would like her to set an alarm for me and wake me up in the morning. “Thanks sis, that would be great” I responded.
Unfortunately, I DID NOT sleep well that night at all. That couch was the most uncomfortable thing I have ever laid upon. I tossed and turned almost the whole night trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep. I FINALLY feel asleep right before the sun came up but woke up when it started shining through the window so I decided to just get up. When I got up, I started hearing my stomach start to grumble and make some pretty funky noises.
Now I don’t know about you but not EVERYONE throws up after drinking too much. I usually have problems with the other end if you know what I mean. 
It really depends on what I had been drinking but whatever I was drinking the night before was letting me know it was coming out. Not later…..NOW! I got off the couch and literally RAN to the bathroom and turned the handle on the door only to find it locked. “Who’s there” I heard Eric ask. “It’s me man, I gotta go”. “Are you going to be in there much longer” I asked in a voice that would disguise the fact that I’m about to shit my pants. “No, give me two minutes” Eric said.
Two minutes went by and the door never opened. Another two minutes went by and the door STILL never opened. Five more minutes went by and still no sign of the FUCKING door opening. I was pacing around my sisters apartment with terrible stomach cramps feeling like I was going into labor or something. The pain just kept getting worse and worse so I paced more and more. Down the hallway, into the living room, into the dining room and into the kitchen and then back again. I paced like that for what seemed to be friggin hours.
Finally, I stopped pacing in the kitchen when I thought I heard the door open. I stood there clenching my cheeks together as hard as I could and listened. I heard the bathroom door open and then Eric walking out the front door to go to work. “THANK GOD” I remember saying to myself. As I slowly began to unclench my cheeks, I quickly found out that it wasn’t going to happen. The more I unclenched, the more something began peeking out. “OMG, what the hell am I going to do” I remember asking myself. The longer I stood there clenching, the more my stomach hurt. I HAD to do SOMETHING!! I devised a plan in which when the stomach pain would subside for a moment, I would unclench and get to the bathroom as quickly as possible.
I waited and I waited and my stomach pain began to subside. I knew I only had a few moments before they started back up again so I slowly unclenched my cheeks and prayed. Unfortunately, my prayers were not answered and I began to squirt like a can of cheese whiz. Actually, squirt is a bit of an understatement. It was more like projectile shitting but luckily I had my jeans and underwear to stop it from spraying the kitchen cabinets and walls. I just stood there with my eyes closed and enjoyed the moment. What else could I do?
After I appeared to be done, it was time to open my eyes and access the damage. As you can imagine, the damage was quite substantial. The first thing I did was remove my socks, followed by my jeans and undies which left me standing in my sisters kitchen wearing only a t-shirt. The next plan of attack was to find something to start cleaning up with so I could get to the shower without dripping shit all over the carpet. I walked over to the pantry and found a brand spanking new roll of paper towels. “PERFECT” I thought. I opened up the paper towels like a kid on Christmas morning and began the “pre-showering” cleanup phase of the cleanup process. I thought it would be best to start at the top and work my way down and began wiping…well…..EVERYWHERE.
While reaching for more paper towels, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I quickly turned my head and there stood my sister in the entryway to the kitchen. There I stood in her kitchen wearing only a t-shirt, holding shit filled paper towels and standing behind a rather large pool of shit on her kitchen floor. We both just looked at each other with a “deer in the headlight” look. Neither of us really knew what to say to one another so my sister just turned and walked back to her bedroom without saying a word.
I finished the cleanup process, showered, wrapped a towel around me and got the hell out of there. I did NOT want to be there when my sister decided to get back out of bed. Later that night, I returned for a little visit. NOTHING was said about what had happened that morning for quite sometime. It was just like any other day. We just hung out and did whatever. Out of the clear blue, my sister speaks up and says “By the way, I came to wake you up this morning when the alarm went off and I noticed you were already up”. “Were you REALLY standing in my kitchen with shit all over the place or was I dreaming” she asked. We all just laughed. 
I normally like to have a photo to go along with my posts. I apologize for not having one for this one. I didn’t have a blog back then when this happened so I never really thought about a photo. Maybe next time?
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