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Admit it. You know we have all done a "little something" in our pants that we shouldn't... number 1, number 2, whatever. It's probably happened to you. And I say that because it's true and also because it makes me feel better that I crapped myself at work once.
I would like to blame it on my mother... but we all know that it's obnoxious when we continually blame our parents for things.... ( but seriously, it's gotta sorta be her fault somehow-because who does that.. at work? ).
So... when I was in college- my entire family was feeling thick... so to slim down we opted to go on a Mom-proposed one week cabbage soup diet. I will spare you the specifics of that because I have not yet gotten consent from all the participating parties. At any rate... it works.
Years later- when late night burriots seemed to have earned their stay on my butt, I decided to yank it out of it's dusty place and try it again. Day one was fine. Eat soup. Eat soup. And then eat the damn soup.
Day two? Annoying to wake and slurp but down the soup went.
I was teaching at a really shady and notoriously dumpy high school. I actually didn't think twice about running out to the lot during my break to have a cigarette in my car and call my long lost pal in LA. As I inhaled and sank low in my seat, soaking in all of her latest drama... my tummy rumbled a bit. I wanted to interrupt her but she was so ex-boyfriend and job hating deep I just couldn't. My tummy rumbled a bit more. Another drag and then suddenly something clammy came over me. Something HORRIBLE had just happened. I screamed... NATALIE I JUST SHIT MY PANTS.... "What?" she said, "What? I can't hear you... ( giggle) it sounded like you just said I SHIT my pants ( guffaw!)." NATALIE... I DID... I DID JUST SHIT MY PANTS. I AM AT WORK IN THE PARKING LOT... SMOKING AND I JUST SHIT MY PANTS. I GOTTA GO!

I found a sweatshirt in the back seat. I wrapped it around my waist. I hesitantly walked into the building and found the first female teacher I could find. I peered into her room and although she was teaching I softly rapped on the door. I waited. I rapped again. This time, the students started telling her, "There is a teacher at the door! There is a teacher at the door!".

I looked into her unforgiving eyes and belted out ( to a woman I didn't know- the school had 6000 kids in it... ) "Ummm... I just shit my pants and can't go back to my class. You are going to need to find somebody and tell them I had to leave. Sorry and thanks!" And ran like the wind back to my car. Her speechlessness would have pleased me at another time... but this was not the time to enjoy it.

I don't think I ever talked to that teacher lady again. But I wonder what she told her family at dinner that night.

The best part of the whole ordeal was calling my very gay friend while driving home- because that's what you do when you crap pant at work... is call your best gay guy friend... and told him... I am driving down the highway with shat pants right now! ... And him saying... "I will be over STAT!"... and he left work and came over. We spent the rest of the evening dumping the pants, the leftover "soup" and him pretending like we were having fun while he leered at me with disgust and excitement and sporadically saying...," I just can't believe you TOLD people...".