Tuesday, April 27, 2010

A Pretty Crappy Story

Yesterday I mentioned that Mrs. B. and I went to the restaurant Bandera, then saw "Kick-Ass." Well this is the filthy continuation to that story. Feel free to share your own experiences in the comment section.

Near the end of the movie, Mrs. B. was coming down with a borderline migraine headache. It was not good. She enjoyed the movie, but by the end, she was spent because this headache was coming on strong. We left the theater quickly and got into my car. She reclined the seat and wanted the radio turned down. I felt bad for her, and yet I also was getting awfully bored by driving in silence.

So I lazily drove home at midnight, in silence, and we had gone to a movie theater that was a little farther away from our house than the one we usual go to, making this drive that much longer (read as: probably an extra six minutes.)

After a few minutes, I felt a little rumble in my stomach. I didn't feel any stomach cramps or even that a bathroom break would be somewhere in my near future. I thought to myself, "Hmmmmm... looks like a fart is coming- no big deal." So I flexed my stomach to let the fart come out, and low and behold- it felt like I crapped my pants a little.

"You gotta be kidding me," I said aloud.
"What's wrong?" Mrs. B. said quietly.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said in a slightly embarrassed tone.

To Mrs. B.'s credit, she is a mind reader. I'm certain she specializes in mostly just my mind, but it's possible she's a clairvoyant. Out of nowhere, she asked, "Did you shit your pants?"

I was stunned- how could she possibly know? I have never crapped my pants before and I couldn't smell anything (and I didn't think that it would be much even if it had happened.) Sheepishly replying like I was Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh, I said, "Yeah, I think so..."

She just started laughing. I suppose slight relief for the headache was good, but laughing at my crapping my pants- pretty damn funny. At that very moment, we hit traffic. There was an accident three exits before ours, and it slowed traffic up quite a bit.

Just so we're clear on the situation- it's midnight, Mrs. B. has a migraine, I just think I crapped my pants, and we're in stop and go traffic just miles away from the freeway exit that we need to get off at. Only one word can describe this situation: shitty.

There is a happy ending though! Upon arriving home, Mrs. B. was able to go to sleep and her headache was gone in the morning. I went to the bathroom to check the damage, and I, in fact, did NOT crap my pants! It was a glorious win for me, my pants, my bowels, and possibly my car driver seat. And the moral of the story? I could probably crap my pants, and Mrs. B. would laugh it off and love me anyway- and that's a pretty great feeling.


GMoney said...

If you can find someone that does not mind her husband potentially shitting all over himself, she just might be a keeper.

Ironically, my nephews were down on Saturday and the 5 year old shit himself as soon as he walked inside the house. I was not home at the time, but the missus said that he kept repeating "it was coming too fast". Hilarious. They missed the first quarter of the OSU spring game because of the necessary clean-up.

Tony B. said...

I agree on your first point. I'm lucky to have locked up such a classy lady.

The story about your nephew is hilarious and that includes that part about you watching the OSU spring game. You seriously watched that? I guess it's good to know your enemy?

GMoney said...

No, I was umpiring and did not plan on going anyway even if my games were rained out.

Tony B. said...

That's probably for the best. I might prefer to crap my pants than watch the OSU spring game.

Rae said...

Weeding out your blog followers, eh? ;)

I believe that magical occurance when you think you just farted and instead shit comes out is referred to as "sharting." The more you know.

You got a pretty awesome wifey there.

Tony B. said...

Eh, if you can't talk about this kind of thing on your blog, where can you talk about it?

I'm not sure I have many readers to weed out, but this blog is probably at its worst when I start to care about what other people think.

Pooker said...

A man who can admit he's crapped his pants is the man for me! I'm sure in 50 years I will be regretting this statement.

Brandon said...

It takes a big man to admit he crapped his pants, and it takes an even bigger man to laugh at that man.

If I go to Bandera in the future, I will definitely be bringing a manpon for the journey home.

Tony B. said...

"Manpon?" That sounds disgusting.

Cami said...

Tony, that story is hilarious. My eyes may or may not be watering due to the amount of laughter I just experienced. Tim just posted about farting on our blog recently. boys, boys, boys.

Tony B. said...

Cami! We miss you out here on the West Coast. You can obviously see what kind of stories you are missing out on!