As Harper Lee once said, “You never really know a person, until they’ve told you the story of the time they pooed their pants in public.”
Technically that’s not what Lee said, but it’s certainly what she meant.
Sh*tting one’s pants is the ultimate war story, passed down from generation to generation, with details of sounds, smells and facial expressions imperative to the narrative.
I collected my three favourite pooping pants stories as a gift to women everywhere. Even though we know exactly how each will end, we can’t help but wonder: How? When? Where? And most importantly, what can I do to ensure I don’t poo my pants while wearing active wear at the airport?
1. “We’d been dating for a month, and there I was with poo running down my legs.” – Lauren
“I was 22 and had met my new boyfriend, Mark, through a mutual friend. I had fallen so hard for him and was really desperate to impress him.
About a month in, we decided to go to a music festival together and stay in his van which had a mattress in the back.
The first night was great, even though I probably drank too much. When I woke up the next morning I thought I had a dreadful hangover and felt extremely nauseous. I tried to get up to go to the bathroom, and passed out before I even stood up.
I realised this definitely was not a bad hangover. It was food poisoning. And then it began.
I vomited out the back of the car, at which point he woke up, having no idea what to do.
But then… it happened.
I felt a really intense cramp in my stomach and suddenly I had no control. I pooed in the back of my boyfriend’s van.
He could definitely hear it, and suddenly I just started cry and kept saying, ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Can you leave me alone for a bit?’
I was desperate to clean everything up, but again, I just kept vomiting and pooing and could not stop.
It was by far the worst moment of my life.
I eventually managed to clean myself up as best as I could, but we ended up having to go home… and the smell in the van. I can’t even describe it.
Five years later we’re still together, but I get really mad if he ever brings it up.”
2. “I pooed in line at the airport on my way home from Vietnam. In active wear.” – Nala
“You have not lived, until you find yourself standing next to your girlfriend, with poo running down the leg of your very expensive tights.
We were on our way home from a trip to Vietnam and I had come down with awful food poisoning. It was instantaneous. As soon as I took a mouthful, I knew I was sick, and it lasted days.
On day two, we were flying home, and I could barely walk. We took a bus and then a taxi to the airport, and the whole time I was using every muscle in my body to make sure I didn’t sh*t myself.
I kept getting goosebumps and shaking the pain was so intense. It was a nightmare.
Anyway, we arrived at the airport and we got stuck in this super long line. Then, out of nowhere, it happened. It was… explosive. And it kept coming. I was standing there in a queue, with poo literally running down my legs.
I had to think fast, so grabbed a pair of trackies from my suitcase, and said to my partner ‘I’m just going to get changed so I’m comfortable for the flight’. Although she didn’t say much… I think she semi knew what had happened.
Changing out of my tights was so disgusting I don’t even have the words. I had wipes in my bag so did my best to clean myself up but I just felt awful. The tights then went in the bin.
That was the longest, most uncomfortable flight of my life.”
3. “I was stuck in traffic, and it happened. The worst part was, I probably deserved it.” – Jemima
“I am lactose intolerant, but eat lactose as though I am not.
Anyway, I went out to a cafe for brunch with a few friends and ordered the bircher muesli and a milkshake.
I didn’t feel great after, but just ignored it. That’s until I got into the car.
I had to stop on the way home at a supermarket, desperately searching for a toilet. But then it subsided. I decided I would be fine.
I jumped back into the car and it was only a 10 minute drive until I was home. That’s when my stomach started to grumble again, and there was no turning back.
When I got a red light, I started to panic. This was an emergency. I clenched and hoped and wished and prayed, but none of it worked.
Right there in the driver’s seat of my Toyota Corolla, I pooed my pants.
And still, to this day, I eat lactose.”