It started out innocently enough.
A few girlfriends meeting for dinner and drinks on a Friday night.
We met up at a place in Northville called Bravo. I had never been to this particular little area. It was a mecca of yummy restaurants. An Irish pub, a very fancy steak house, the Italian restaurant we were at and so much more. So cute! I can’t wait to go back and check it out more.
It was your typical, run of the mill Girls Night Out.
A few friends, sitting around a table. Some drinking, all eating, everyone laughing.
I’m not sure anyone knows how it happened.
How the conversation went from silly and took turn at the corner of vile and disgusting.
But it did.
And holy CRAP, you should have all been there.
*Insert warning here* If you get squeamish from any type of bathroom talk, then I promise I won’t be insulted if you don’t read the rest of this post. Go read archives. Or maybe you should just come back tomorrow. Mwah. See you on Twitter? XOXO
*whispers* are they gone?
One of us started it, for sure. Not sure which one. I’ll blame her *points in random direction*
Suddenly, we were talking about “the time that the URGE attacked”.
The time that the URGE made a sneak attack at an unsuspecting Mom. It was during a walk with her new baby. The URGE. It was too strong for this new Mommy. Sweating from the exertion of walking and fighting the good fight. She couldn’t hold the muscles together any longer. Her will and resolve, beaten down. And slowly…she accepted it, and let The URGE overtake her. And as she finished her walk up her driveway, she was spent. The only thing she could do was hand off her infant to her husband and run upstairs to dump her dump into the toilet from her pants.
Suddenly, another piped in. She had a similar incident.
That URGE. It attacked her at Target. She was too busy shopping to pay too much attention to the warning signs. After all, it was only two miles to get home. She thought she was stronger than…The URGE. She got into her car. Headed in the direction of home. It was only two miles, she thought…sweating and panting to herself. Then, she got stuck behind an old biddy who seemed to have forgotten which was the gas and which was the brake. The URGE. It got too strong. And while she was driving the 2 miles an hour, heading the 2 miles towards home…she lost her fight. The URGE won.
And she pooped in her car. Alone and humiliated. And dry heaving and gagging from the stench.
It pounced on her. During a power walk. It became a power battle between good and evil. Bladder vs. Mind. But The URGE. It’s a strong, strong entity. One which, even those that have the Force on their side can’t always control. And she left a trail of pee going up her driveway as she power fought and lost to…The URGE.
It kept on coming.
The URGE stories.
The potty talk about dingleberries and toilet paper schmutz left on the toilet by our husbands.
It was so wrong, our entire conversation.
But no. Not really.
Because one thing we noticed. A common theme, if you will.
It happened to ALL of us. All 5 of us. At one time or another.
We had to face The URGE.
We may have been alone during our battles with The URGE.
But, we ALL had our war stories.
And as vile and disgusting and HILARIOUS our retellings were…
It was such a relief to know that it was normal…ish.
In the end, knowing that we weren’t alone in our embarrassing memories,
Made it that much easier to laugh about it.
And laugh…hell yeah we did.