Fecal Contamination

This is the pool I went to yesterday with Amber. The deepest part is only 3 feet, and there are sprayers and a slide that make it perfect for little kids. Lots of little kids. Little kids who get so excited that they want to poop their pants. And one who actually did.

All of us (and there were A LOT of us there yesterday) had to be evacuated from the pool because of FECAL CONTAMINATION.

Disgusting.

But after 30 minutes, they had the pool up and running and Charlie was in splashing heaven once again.

And as I was driving home, I was reflecting on the afternoon's events, and it reminded me of a time when I was in a similar situation as the poor kid who just didn't make it to the bathroom in time.

Many of you have heard this story, and I'm pretty sure that it has become Mormon folklore, but for the few of you who haven't, I thought I'd tell my embarrassing tale.

In the summer of 2001, I was walking around Dillard's (a department store in Provo). As I was cruising the aisles, it suddenly hit me that I had to use the restroom, and I only had a few moments to find one. I looked around and saw what I thought was a sign for a bathroom. As I got closer, I realized that it was a hair salon. I knew I was in big trouble.

I turned around to find some help, took one step onto the tile aisle, and out slipped my poop. That's right. It slipped right out of my baggie undies, out of my skirt, down my leg, and onto the floor. There was a woman standing about 15 feet away who watched the whole thing happen. I was so embarrassed and didn't know what to do, so I just picked up that piece of poop and put it in my purse. (I tried to pretend like I accidentally dropped my keys).

Luckily I had just gone to Victoria's secret and had the plastic bag inside my purse that could protect my valuables from being completely desecrated.

I found my way to a drinking fountain where I rinsed off my fingers, and then finally found a bathroom where I dumped the poop from the bag and then sat in the stall for several moments not quite sure if I should laugh or just be worried that the men watching the security cameras weren't going to blackmail me.

I came home and told my roommate, Mrs. Dubs, what had happened, and we both laughed so hard we could barely breathe. A few months later, I felt comfortable enough in my relationship with Justin to share the story with him too. And he laughed, but it was more of the "that's so disgusting, I'm going to hide my disgust with this sheepish laugh" kind of laugh.

I don't think I've ever been back to that Dillard's, too scared that they may have signs posted not to let the poopy girl back in the store.

Since then, I've had a few similar situations...actually, more than a few. So my heart goes out to that poor little kid who just couldn't squeeze his buns tight to avoid the fecal contamination.