The Long Log Drive Home
In 2018, my partner was returning home after a long trip to Europe. It had been several weeks since I’d seen her, and I was beyond excited for her to finally come home. I decided to drive to pick her up at the airport, a two-and-a-half-hour journey from where we lived. I had planned everything carefully, allowing plenty of time to spare, so I could enjoy the drive and the anticipation of the reunion.
But it didn’t take long for things to go awry.
About ten minutes into the drive, I began to feel an odd, uncomfortable sensation in my stomach. It wasn’t exactly painful, but it was certainly noticeable—like something was pressing against me from the inside. It felt strange, as though something had wedged itself in a very inconvenient place. If I’m being honest, it felt like a turtle head had taken up residence in my lower abdomen. But I didn’t have time to dwell on that. I was already running a bit late, and there was no way I was going to stop now, especially not with my partner’s arrival just around the corner.
I decided to push the discomfort aside and focused on getting to the airport as quickly as possible. The traffic was light, and I made some good time. As I neared the airport, the excitement of seeing my partner after so long made me forget about the growing pressure in my stomach. When I finally pulled up to the pick-up ramp, I was all smiles, my heart racing with joy.
Then, I got the message. “I’m on the pick-up ramp,” my partner texted. I couldn’t have been happier. As I stepped out of the car, I saw her standing there, waiting for me. The reunion was everything I had hoped for—hugs, laughter, and a few happy tears. For a moment, I completely forgot about the uncomfortable sensation in my gut.
We drove home together, chatting about everything and nothing, catching up on the weeks we’d spent apart. The conversation flowed easily, and before I knew it, we were back at our place. I made us a nice dinner, and we enjoyed a couple of glasses of red wine. As the evening wore on, I was feeling good—really good. My partner was home, we were together again, and the world felt right.
But there was one problem I hadn’t addressed—the turtle in my stomach.
By the time I finished cleaning up after dinner, the pressure had intensified. I could feel that things were about to get… messy. But before I could act on it, I had already made plans to meet up with a few friends for farewell drinks at a bar around the corner from our house. I kissed my partner goodbye and left the house, thinking that I’d be fine.
I hadn’t realized how wrong I was.
As soon as I entered the bar, my friend greeted me with his usual enthusiasm. He hooked his arm through mine and led me to the bar, where we ordered a drink. “Let’s make this night one to remember!” he said. I laughed, already feeling a little bit tipsy after the two glasses of wine at home. He handed me a pint, and we sculled it down together. Then, of course, another round.
That’s when the pressure in my stomach hit me like a freight train.
I’d ignored it for so long that I didn’t realize how serious it had become until it was too late. The discomfort was now a full-on emergency. It was like a switch had flipped, and the turtle had decided it was time to make its escape. I tried to ignore it, but that wasn’t going to work.
I excused myself and hurried toward the bathroom, but as I got closer, I realized there was a long line. My stomach churned in a way that left no room for hesitation, and I knew I needed to find a solution fast. With no other choice, I bolted from the bathroom area and dashed outside, hoping to make it to the nearby beach, which was only about 40 meters away. But, as luck would have it, it felt far too far in the moment.
In a state of sheer panic, I turned to the alley beside the venue. There, wedged between two garbage bins, I made my decision. I knew I couldn’t make it any farther, so I just had to go.
Relief came quickly, but I hadn’t anticipated one thing: an elderly couple walking by at that exact moment. They were strolling down the street hand in hand, blissfully unaware of my predicament. As they passed, they waved cheerfully at me. I hastily pulled my pants back up and waved back, hoping they wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. But the reality was, I couldn’t stop what was already happening. I had no choice but to stand there, awkwardly waving, as I dealt with the most embarrassing situation of my life.
The ordeal didn’t end there. Not only had I completely soiled myself, but it had also gotten everywhere—down both legs, into my shoes. The mess was so bad that I didn’t even know how to begin cleaning up. I just had to walk home. So, I did. The walk felt like an eternity, each step a painful reminder of my unfortunate circumstances. The whole time, I couldn’t help but think about how absurd the situation was. But there was nothing I could do but keep moving forward.
When I finally made it home, I was greeted with yet another complication: I was locked out. My partner was inside, taking a shower, and I had no way of getting in. I stood there, utterly defeated, in the cold night air, unsure of how to explain what had just happened.
But in the end, I had no choice. I stripped off my pants and shoes, which were beyond saving, and tossed them straight into the trash. There was no way they could be salvaged. I knocked on the door, hoping that my partner would understand.
She opened the door, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw me standing there in nothing but my underwear, my legs covered in, well… you can guess. She looked at me, confused, and asked, “What happened? Where are your pants?”
I turned my back to her, my face flushed with embarrassment, and presented the damage. “Welcome home, baby,” I said, trying to smile despite the mortification. “I pooped myself again.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, but I could see the faintest grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. As much as I felt like dying from embarrassment, I could tell she was trying hard not to laugh. And in that moment, I realized that it wasn’t the end of the world. It was just one of those absurd, laughable moments that would be a story for years to come.