Who wants to hear an epic tale of total and utter shame? YEAH, ME TOO! Oh, wait, but this is about me. Keep it straight, McKenzie, keep it straight.
I was listening to a podcast the other day and it was about an embarrassing moment this girl had, which was quite similar to a few moments in my own life all revolving around the teetering strength of my bladder. Basically, "teetering strength" means weakness, but it's like reverse psychology because I used the word "strength" to tell you my bladder was weak. There's gotta be a fancy word for what I just did. ........lying?
Liz and I were walking home from school and speaking to each other in an alien language we had made up. Btw, this was in 8th grade. So we're walking and it's probably about 2 miles from the school to our houses (we lived next door to each other like all American Girl doll protégés do). I had ingested a very large amount of water in seventh period, like I always did because I was trying to get away from Jacob Young who was constantly kneeling by my desk and proposing to me. It's not easy being a dead ringer for Felicity (1774). Observe:
What? I'm sure that's what Jacob saw in me. Otherwise, what in the he*k do you think he was doing kneeling by my desk and asking me to quote "bear his children" close quote!!!!??????? Yeah me neither. So anyways, I was constantly leaving math class to "get a drink" cuz it was the only way Mr. Malcolm would let me leave and get away from Jake (of course his name was Jake, of COURSE it was, I couldn't make this crud up if I tried).
And because I am a compulsive water-drinker in awkward situations, but also, unfortunately, irrationally afraid of public bathrooms (except later this irrational fear would become more rational when I took a job cleaning bathrooms at BYU-Idaho, and I don't want to remember all the hair I saw but it was more than whatever's left after the filming of every Hobbit film). ANYHOW, are you getting this? I drank too much water but I also refused to use the bathroom 'til I got home, which was a 2-mile walk, which would be doable except that I was talking with my best friend in an alien language, which had the effect of constricting my bladder even more because I was losing it.
Fig. 1 (Equation 1)
10 gal water - 1 trip to the bathroom =
We were about halfway to our house, in front of the Wilson's (our usual target for TP-ing), when I felt my legs give out a little. That's called k-a-r-m-a, kids. When your legs give out anytime, it's a bad situation. Walking up Old Main Hill on an icy winter day? Standing in front of the entire kindergarten class and a wave of nervousness washes over you? A gigantic ball that's absolutely coming straight for you and you know there's no way you're gonna catch it because you're SEVEN years old but your gym teacher says it's "fun"? Legs give out? Bad. Bladder full? Legs are the only things holding it in?
is NOTHING easy?!!!
This egg here represents what my bladder was doing.
It was like, this weird journey. First I was all relieved cuz you know it feels good to finally stop holding it in (a metaphor for holding in ur feelings, probably, but I can't go into that right now I'm too busy embarrassing myself), but then this shockwave of shock hit me and I was like "oh shoot sound the alarm," but the words sorta came out like a sneeze like when you're trying not to move very much so as not to blow up.
me: uffds
liz: haha yeah what does that mean? (remember she still thinks we're speaking in tongues)
me: ballder?
liz: what
me: peeeeeeeeeee
liz: *starts reciting her alien alphabet starting with the letter Q*
We walked a little further. Got past our piano teacher's house at which point I was pretty much doing a convoluted version of the "jerk"
This is when it gets juicy. Wrong word choice, but you know. I can't really care anymore at this point. Liz walked away because she absolutely knew what was going on and didn't want to be a part of it (totally understand now), and I sat down on the sidewalk and just let it happen. By the way, it wasn't raining, which is weird because this was in Oregon, where it rains 80% of the time, so I didn't have a good cover. I just kinda sat on the sidewalk like, "Yeah...just sitting. I love sitting! I was so tired from walking that two miles and since I'm two houses from my house I am going to sit now and just....gosh I love sitting." *Liz slowly backs away*
This would've been a humiliating enough end, but then my mom came around the corner all cheery faced and skipping, coming to fetch the mail, and we had one of those community mailboxes which just so happened to be past where I was sitting.
mom: what are you doing sitting on the sidewalk
me: what? what sidewalk?
mom: uh you sitting in a puddle? (this wasn't a question, but my mother is graceful, so it sounded like one)
me: are you getting the mail?
mom: yes...?
me: okay heheh cool well let me know if I get anything *would be literally impossible for me to have mail because I'm an 8th grader, but a girl can dream*
mom: where's Liz?
me: she went home, but I wanted to take a break...from walking (my mom, by now, must know that my physical endurance is totally shot in every way)
mom: are you feeling sick?
me, willing the sun to heat up suddenly and zap the ever-spreading puddle around me: huh?
mom: kay....
me: ...........
mom: ........................
Gee, I thought this would be cathartic but it actually wasn't.
*therapy*
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