This image explains a lot…. like why did I have a tramp machine in the backyard as a 7 year old? What that necessary? Or was it a sex trap that helped my mother conceive? Either way, I would like to blame this contraption for my early development which put me on the fast track for a Tampon Rewards Card.
Which reminds me about that fateful trip where I boarded a United Flight for Breckinridge to meet my mom’s best friends for ski adventure atop Blood Mountain. I was eleven and excited to sport my new Limited Too flannel yet baby doll look around my new mountain friends that I was sure to meet. It was not common for my mother to leave her blush wine behind for a solo trip with me and I was looking forward to getting drunk with her for the first time.
As I got comfortable in the middle seat on aisle 23, I wished that we had sat together so that we could talk about the interesting articles I was reading in Cosmo. Nevertheless, I was just settling in for the 2 hour flight when I felt something in my cotton full backs. I was convinced that it was just the article I was reading entitled “How to please your man”, but as I shifted my 100 pound body side to side I was sure this was more than that. I waited anxiously for the seat belt sign to turn off so I could inspect my pants and get to the bottom of this load that had suddenly dropped. The wait for the neon light to go dim seemed to last as long as Hanson’s stay on the pop charts. Not too long, but just long enough to make me start smoking.
As soon as the captain gave me the go ahead, I leaped over the middle aged business man next to me and raced to the back of the cabin. It wasn’t a far walk since we were practically seated on the left jet but I could feel my adrenaline rising as I approached my investigation site. I got inside the florescent lighted lavatory and pulled down my Mossimo Jeans. What the fuck?
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing….. did I shit may pants? I did, I shit my pants, I’m an eleven year old woman who shits her pants on airplanes. I furiously began to wipe up the remnants of brown bacterial secretions let out by my pre-roided brown eye. Once I was satisfied with the clean up that I had tirelessly committed to, I leaned to smell my disgusting display of adolescence and was some what pleased that I didn’t feel the need to deodorize myself. I pulled my pants up, got myself together, splashed some water on my face and committed to keeping this a secret. There was no reason that the my future husband sitting next to me had to know about what just went down in my pants, after all, the odor didn’t seem to bother me so maybe he wouldn’t notice. He seemed to like me so I was hoping that even if he did somehow have telepathic knowledge about my inability to keep my breakfast pizza down that maybe wouldn’t mind. I was a younger woman and he might find my flaws cute, at least that’s what I was hoping.
I apprehensively turned off the “occupied” sign and began my approach the main cabin. Get it together I thought, soon you’ll be living the good life in an all wood panel condo on the south side of Colorado’s spring break Mecca. I had been looking forward to getting away for months and I wasn’t going to let a little diarrhea in my pants get in the way.
I settled back into my seat, opened up my April addition of Cosmo and tried to get the whole experience out of my head.
Unfortunately for me, no one told me that we had a connecting flight. Apparently, it’s cheaper to stop through Tennessee while flying from Louisiana in order to reach Colorado. Typical Mother, always trying to skim a dime off my vacation.
Fast forward to the next flight, I decide to take another look to make sure that everything was flowing A-OK. In disbelief, I realize that there is more flo-jo taking place out of my brown-eye. Now I’m pissed, get it together I thought…. How will I ever be able to show myself back at school? Is this my new schtick? Am I going to start shitting my pants all the time? Or is it just triggered by airplanes? That must be it I thought to myself, I’m having a reaction to the plane. I had been on a plane before but I was much younger and less developed. Maybe nine year olds react differently to planes than 11 year old women. I wasn’t totally convinced but it put me at ease and helped to calm my nerves until we got to our final destination and I could finally enjoy a glass of Chardonnay with mother.
At last, we get to the rented condominium and I raced to the restroom, just as I pull down my jeans, I got a sinking feeling in my gut. This hasn’t been diarrhea I’ve been looking it at all day, it’s my bloody period. How could I have been so stupid? The Chardonnay, the Cosmo, the Jet Setting…… it must have triggered my inner woman. Of course, it all makes sense. I decided to take a bubble bath to reflect on the day’s events and what my future as a young vibrant woman in the community would be. Sixth grade graduation is just a month away and then summer would be here, I could prepare for my new life over the next few months. What type of woman will I be? When will I start sprouting curls through my pants? Will they be dark like my mothers? I didn’t know then but I was excited about the future.