She had raced into the bathroom, growing a tail, touching cloth, having the turtle's head.
Trousers and knickers were wrenched down as she hoped to be seated before proceedings began.
A loud fart echoed in the porcelain bowl followed by the rapid machine gun fire of a slack-boweled deposit.
She knew it wasn't good, but the relief was immense.
It was over as quickly as it started.
Just as she prepared to wipe it resumed, all water.
Stop, start, stop, start. The kids had never been dropped off at the pool so many times.
Today was going to be spent no more than twenty feet from a toilet at any time.
No comments:
Post a Comment