Poop was Not in a Group

What do Robbie Williams, Joe Jonas, Emma Stone and I all have in common? (Spoiler: it’s not that we are all superstars).

I’ve never been one to enjoy riddles because I’m simply not good at figuring them out. However, I love riddles when I have the answer. 

So hold on to your britches until the end…

I’m the type of person, and I know there’s many of us out there, who will do everything possible to avoid inconveniencing others. 

If I want to cross the street and a vehicle is coming, I will extend my distance and back track to the crosswalk so the vehicle doesn’t need to stop for me. (I tell myself it’s extra steps).

Or before asking an employee for assistance in a store, I’ll see if Google knows which aisle dried cranberries can be located. (PS Google often does not have the answer).

Or if I’m at a play and want a paper program but the usher doesn’t have any more in her hand, I won’t ask for one. This results in my friend seeing the conflicted disappointment in my eyes and asking for me. (Thank you Cassidee).

These are only 3 examples out of maybe 1,000. I call it considerate. Others may call it a problem.

Even when I have the biggest inconveniences in my life, no one will know. Until now…

** I would like to quickly preface this story by stating you’re about to read, pants down, the most embarrassing situation I’ve experienced at work to date and I’ve decided to share it on the internet for the world to see. Okay, maybe “the world” is a bit of an exaggeration. 

In Sit Down Be Humble, my backside wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Today, my backside surprised me.

The morning began just like any other day. I drank my usual large Tim Horton’s black coffee and ate my yogurt and berries with no physical signs of foreshadowing. 

Once in the hallway, I bent down to assist a resident with the foot rests on their wheelchair when I suddenly felt something not quite right.

I slowly stood up, clenching my cheeks – you know the ones and non-nonchalantly (looking back, probably not nonchalantly at all), reached behind me and gave myself a gentle pat. I believe I whispered, “oh no.”

As quickly as possible, I penguin-walked my way to the washroom with my hands interlaced behind me. This is where I realized I had in fact done the very thing I had hoped was an illusion.

I will say, one good thing about being a wreck is I keep a change of clothes in my work bag.  Truthfully, it’s not for wrecks but for when something fun comes up after work but unfortunately I’ve used these extra outfits for more wrecks than fun.

Therefore, I didn’t need to leave work which meant once again, I didn’t inconvenience anyone with my poopy situation – literally and figuratively. 

Once the initial shock and shame subsided, I cleaned myself up. Wearing trauma as an accessory, I changed my underwear and pants that about 30 people had already seen me in (the pants not the underwear just to be clear) and calmly returned to my office. 

So, what do Robbie Williams, Joe Jonas, Emma Stone and I all have in common? 

We’ve all pooped our pants on our own stage.