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It happened last Saturday. So it’s been a couple of weeks since I last spent time with my mom and I decided we needed a girl’s day out. Woke up early, picked her up, and we hit the town. Between our excursions to Pier 1, Ulta, and Old Navy there was no time to really stop anywhere to, you know, go. It’s okay, though, I didn’t feel anything. In fact, I was having so much fun that I didn’t even feel the urge. Until I did. You know? I really thought I would pee myself less as an adult…
I Really Thought I Would Pee Myself Less As An Adult…
It didn’t happen right away. I wasn’t still shopping or anything. No, in fact, I went back to my mom’s house, ate dinner with her and my dad, hung out, played with their dog, had a great day.
When I left there I remembered I was out of dog food and ducked into the grocery store to pick some up before I headed home. For anyone keeping tabs, at this point I’d gone approximately, oh, ten or so hours without going. I don’t know if I was so busy that I didn’t feel the urge, or if maybe I felt it and suppressed it, but it just wasn’t there. I pick up the dog food, get to the checkout line, and BOOM: it hits.
Ohmygod I have to pee Right Now.
But it’s Wal-Mart.
And I’m NOT going to pee in Wal-Mart.
A bead of sweat starts down my brow as the woman in front of me takes her sweet ditty time checking out, putting one single item on the counter at a time. Does she not realize this is a conveyer belt? She can stack those puppies like Tetris tiles, and they’ll just go on down the line.
No. One item at a time.
And then something doesn’t scan. “Well I’m sure it was two dollars,” the lady says.
My pelvis is actually about to split open from the pressure being exerted on it.
Forget about the pee-pee dance, if I move even an inch I’m gonna blow.
I focus all of my energy on trying to convince my body to hold out until I get home…
“I’ll have to call the department to make sure,” the checkout lady says.
It’s a nothing item. Like probably something she just picked up on a whim. One of those things no one really needs and she could certainly put back if she had any decency.
I eye my dog food, trying to decide if I should abandon ship to save myself. If I don’t bring dog food home there’s a good chance my dogs will actually eat ME when I walk in the door.
Which might be a good thing, because at least then I won’t have to pee anymore.
They can’t reach anyone in the department (what department even sells little nothing trinket dodads, anyway?), and FINALLY the woman decides she doesn’t need it.
Time to pay. She swipes her card. Nothing happens.
My urethra is actually hurting from squeezing.
She swipes again.
The checkout lady tells her, “I think that’s one of those chip cards.”
Of course it’s one of those chip cards. We all hate them. We’re just stuck with them.
FINALLY she’s done and wanders away.
I check out as quickly as humanly possible and rush, somewhat cross-legged, to my car.
Luckily, I only live a few blocks from the store and it took less than five minutes to get home.
Unluckily, my bladder seemed to realize we reached our destination and my pants were pretty much completely soaked before I made it all the way to the bathroom.
I wish I could say this is the first time this has happened, but I can’t. It isn’t. I just forget to pee. Who forgets to pee!?!?
Honestly, I really thought I’d pee myself less as an adult, but with the way things are going at this point I’m just really looking forward to my golden years… At least then it’ll be socially acceptable for me to wear diapers again.