Monday, December 01, 2008

Does a boy poop in a ditch?

I don't speak much about my past because I like to live a life cloaked in mystery. Or maybe it's due to the fact that my past is downright embarrassing. For instance, the time I pooped my pants.

Now before you jump to conclusions about how wild last weekend was for me, let me clarify one thing: it's been months since I pooped my pants in a fully drunk, mildly retarded stupor. (Am I joking?) The truth is that this incident happened well over twenty-five years ago. It, sadly, is probably one of my earliest memories.

As a child of two farming parents, I was carted everywhere. If dad was doing some field work involving a tractor, combine or grain truck; chances are that I was along for the ride. Other times I'd end up with my mom doing the exact same tasks. Sometimes I was left at one end of the field in the trusty red 1977 Ford F-150 with the AM radio on for entertainment or as I called it, nap time.

The image of that particular late-morning is still burned into my head and my underwear. For whatever reason, both parents were hard at work in the fields and that left me in the F-150 to take care of myself. Maybe I was being too whiny to be dealt with or maybe I was expressing my independence. Whatever the case, I remember being nearly a mile from home along that gravel road. New gravel was being added by a brigade of gravel trucks and this youngster had to poop.

And poop I did. Right there in my Fruit of the Looms. Maybe it felt especially warm between my tiny butt cheeks. Maybe I was red with embarrassment because I was five and I had just managed to shit myself when I knew far better than to do that. I remember my dear mom returning to the F-150 to find me, either crying profusely or smiling at my newest achievement. There were words of frustration. I know that mom suggested/questioned why I hadn't squatted it out in the ditch. But, mom, the embarrassment of big guys in gravel trucks watching me drop a brown snake in the grass and nothing to wipe with. I just couldn't do it.

Hell, she probably made me wash the brown shit out of my drawers. Maybe she still remembers that incident today. Oh, and if you're wondering what jogged my memory back to this tragic yet landmark event in my life, I think you know.

Am I alone with such tragic yet hilarious childhood fecal mishaps? Dish 'em.

If you're seeking something at least mildly classy, scope out MinnPics because showing your appreciation for the brilliant work of Minnesota's amateur photographers keeps them going!


Brian in Mpls said...

Don't feel bad I am lactose intolerant and have done this

Memarie Lane said...

at least you didn't have an audience. i once peed my pants in the middle of quiet time in 4th grade, sitting next to the boy i liked. imagine a class full of 35 ten year olds cocking their heads and whispering "what's that sound?" and then having to go the rest of the day with a shirt tied around your waist and smelling like pee and forever being known as "the girl who..."

VE said...

Pooping isn't embarrassing. Everyone poops! Well, not in their pants!!! ha ha ha. Just kidding....

Hey, personal favor, swing by the blog for the Tue post...I need the support!

Sornie said...

I also have a good peeing story but that's for another time but just as embarrassing.

MJ said...

Oh, yes. And I remember it like it was yesterday. I was in my soccer uniform, and my mom had left me in the car to go retrieve my older brother from the field. Well, she left me in there far too long, and I had apparently come down with a case of diarrhea.

I still remember crying and being totally embarrassed by my brother who heckled me the whole way home about the smell. I think I was 6 at the time.

noisysmile said...

One time I had the big D while I was swimming when I was 6 or 7 years old. There aint a thing you can do about it when you gotta go. Shit happens.

buffalodick said...

Once you turn 50+ there is a new rule... never trust a fart.
On a happier note, welcome to fatherhood! Start making and saving money NOW!