TMI alert. Frankly I don't think it's that bad, but some of you are wimps and can't talk about feminine stuff. Get over yourself. Read on.
Today after church I *mentioned* that I was hungry and needed some BBQ. We haven't eaten in a restaurant in a long time, and we hadn't been to City BBQ in ages, so EVERYONE jumped at the chance.
City BBQ, or "Shitty" as we loving call it, is a picnic table, paper towel rolls on the table, down home BBQ establishment.
We walked in the door right at 11 a.m. and ordered some Carolina sandwiches and corn pudding...mmmmm. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. The four of us sat down and dug right in.
During the meal I got up to get some more sauce to drown my BBQ sandwich in and a refill on my diet coke, and turned around to see David and Hannah staring at me, mouths open. I immediately knew something was up and hazarded a wild guess that I had either sat in something, or let's face it I had an "accident". Rather than helping me out, the two of them sat there and stared, mouths open. (I talked to Hannah later about how she could have been a tad more helpful).
I made my way back to the table, surrounded by other filled tables, and confirmed that I did in fact have a spot on the back of my skirt. I turned my skirt around (the beauty of the elastic waist skirt), grabbed my giant purse (another plus) and excused myself to the bathroom. It was a one bun bathroom. Great. I locked the door and got to work. I washed my skirt out, looked around and saw there was no air dryer and started to dry the skirt off with paper towels. At this point someone was knocking on the door so she could use the restroom. Great. So I left the restroom with a wet spot on the front of my skirt, which was better than on the back.
As I am leaving the restroom, passing the waiting women, oblivious Bubba (across the room) says in the loudest stage whisper EVER, "You took a LONG time Mom, WERE YOU POOPING?"