Confession Friday: The Poop Story

WARNING: This post contains a poop story. It is highly inappropriate. It is (a little) graphic. It is poop. If you are squeamish (or eating), stop right now and come back on Monday. 

Disclaimer: My boyfriend would probably rather I did not post this story. But I couldn’t help myself. Also, if you know my boyfriend’s dad…never tell him this story. Ever. 

Dear Twitter followers, You’re welcome.

Last winter, Brian and I escaped the unusually-less-than-frigid Chicago weather with a long weekend away to Florida. Had we known that I would be losing my job a few weeks prior to the trip and take 8 months to find another one, we probably would have gone for a whole week. Regardless. Florida. Trip. Warm. Beach. Sun. Yay!

Brian’s dad lives on the coast of southern Florida. I spent most of my days barefoot on a beach. Brian spent most of his days sleeping until 2. It was the perfect trip. One of our days, though, Brian’s Dad took us out on a boat trip. This was very exciting for me. One of the perks of living on an island full of canals is DOLPHINS. If anyone didn’t know, I love love love dolphins. Love them. They are amazing creatures. (No, I’m not giving away free dolphins. If I had dolphins, I would keep them all to myself.)

Dolphin love

Yes, Brian puts up with me…even when I do things in public that embarrass him

So we took a boat from his Dad’s backyard through the canals out to sea. In the canals, as promised, I got to see dolphins playing! It was the most amazing experience ever. One day, I will swim with the dolphins, and that will trump this.

Dolphin in the Canal

This dolphin was not only 20 feet away in the canal…he also swam up to us and did wild dolphin tricks–stood up on his flukes to see what was going on inside the boat. It was the most exciting thing ever. Ever!

So we took a nice long boat ride in the Gulf of Mexico around the southern tip of Florida to a little island, which I will not name. The ride was a good hour from door to island. It was beautiful. We shelled along the beach, and had packed a picnic lunch. I was walking along, looking for sweet shells…when all of a sudden I felt a rumbly in my tummy. I tried to let it pass, but within two minutes I knew… I really had to poo.

Now in all actuality, I’ve got some sick digestive issues (that would be probably be diagnosed as something if I had health insurance and a doctor…), and there are times that I will go far too long without releasing the toxins. So when I gotta go–I go. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.)There’s no such thing as holding it. In fact, I don’t understand people who go and spend 20 minutes on a toilet waiting for it to happen. But that’s another story entirely.

So I walked over to Brian…

“Babe, I’ve got…a problem.”

Now, Brian is the best boyfriend ever, and he puts up with me talking about poop on a somewhat regular basis. That’s love right there.

“What?” He said to me, all innocent-like. He really had no clue.

“I have to go. Like bad.”

“Pee?” He looked hopeful. Squatting to pee on an island is not difficult.

I shook my head…

“Can you hold it?”

I shook my head again…

“Well, we’re about an hour away…even if we left right now.”

So I thought. And I thought. I didn’t want to embarrass Brian. Or his dad. Or make a scene. I wanted to enjoy the day. And I thought some more. And when I couldn’t take the stomach pains anymore, I said, “I’m going to go dig a hole. I’m going to need toilet paper. or napkins. or paper towels.”

So Brian and I casually walked back to the boat, as his dad was shelling. He acquired paper towels for me and waited by the boat. I walked deep into the not-very-sheltered island, where I found a semi-secluded spot. I dug a fairly deep hole. Took off my bathing suit (while keeping my skirt and shirt on–like MAGIC). Squatted. And birthed a small child out my rear end. I cleaned my person. Re-dressed. Covered the hole. Hand sanitized. and called it a day. I was proud of myself.

I would so survive on LOST. Or Survivor. Or even The Amazing Race. I am a winner.

I walked back to Brian, who didn’t want to know details…

…but I told him anyways.

We proceeded to picnic on the island…As we started walking in the direction of my man-made bathroom, I was fearful that we would end up dining a little too close for comfort. Luckily, we were still pretty far…ish away.

picnic on the beach

Cute picnic, right?

Funny Face Because I just pooped

The Best Boyfriend Ever

Plus I made him that sandwich (before the, um, incident).

When we got back on the boat, I texted Lily, as she is my go-to poop story friend. She was thoroughly impressed.

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Comments

  1. You just told the whole internet your poop story. As if I needed another reason to love you!

  2. Sounds to me like you’re all set for a wilderness canoe trip!

  3. I’m so proud of you for joining me in sharing your poop story! Hey at least you didn’t actually poop your pants like me! LOL! Hilarious post 🙂

  4. I’m totally impressed that you did it, and are proud of it! You go, girl!! Saw your blog retweeted by Peanut Layne, who I believe is a great judge of character. I was not disappointed!

    Teri
    Snarkfest

  5. I would take you backpacking or camping anytime.

  6. Hehehehe! Reminds me of the time I HAD to pee and Dylan pulled over and I went to pee on the side of a hill, fell down the hill, peed all over my shoes and pants and then realized I was sitting bare-ass-naked in the middle of a hiking trail.

  7. You are set for Survivor, girl. I don’t think I could’ve done it, but I’m a prissy girl.

  8. Oh my gosh. This was worth the read. The visual of you birthing a small child out your ass will stay with me for a long time.

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