Shit-pants

Through an informal and ongoing survey, I have learned that practically everyone I know has shit his or her pants as an adult.

Yes. Everyone.

Except me.

I’m still waiting. This makes me nervous. Extremely nervous.

Because when nearly everyone you know has shit themselves, it’s not good being the odd person out. It’s not normal. It means that I’m overdue.

Hedy, you’re telling us that you actually want to shit your pants?

YES!

Seriously. It’s like the first time I dropped my motorcycle.

I was making a left turn from Route 31 onto Mooseheart Road and didn’t accelerate enough so the bike stalled and fell over. I wasn’t hurt – I let it fall and kept standing. But in addition to that rush of OHFUCKWHATNOW adrenaline and a bit of fear about causing an accident at this busy intersection, I actually felt relieved.

“Well, I got that over with,” I remember thinking. “I knew it was going to happen, now it has and I don’t have to worry about it.”

That’s how I feel about shitting my pants. I really just want to get it over with.

I want to be like everyone else.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Combos,” says one shit-pants friend of mine who shall remain anonymous. “Eat a bag of Combos. That’s what did it for me.”

That would be cheating. You can’t force yourself to shit your pants anymore than you can force yourself to drop a bike or laugh at something that isn’t funny.

It just has to happen. Spontaneously. Uncontrollably. Often publicly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Best case scenario:

It’s a Friday night out with all of our friends – drinking and eating and laughing and laughing and eating and drinking.

I’m all stuffed and smiley-faced.

Someone I know and love does or says something that is just bust-a-gut hilarious and Voila! I laugh so hard I fill my pants.

That's how it should happen for all of us desperate skid-free folks waiting for the inevitable - in the company of our very own shit-pants support group.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am listening to: Nothing
I am reading: Yield Software Getting Started Guide
And I am: Anxiously waiting