======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ==== ======= ======= ====== ====== ====== ===== ==== ====== ====== ===== ====
I’m currently spending my morning frantically scanning YouTube. No work will be done, and I am in a panic.
It started out like any morning for me. I woke up, had breakfast with my son before he went to daycare and I had just poured myself a bottle of pre-workout. My routine is more or less the same each morning.
Except today was different. When I took a whiff of my orange mango drink, my stomach curled. I drink this stuff every day but my body wasn’t feeling it one bit. Against my better judgement I pounded the drink so I could wake up and make the normal morning pains I have go away. I saw my wife out the door and then grabbed my running gear.
As I was tying my shoe, I felt it again. The curl. I ignored it again. I started off my run with some Sam Hunt and made my way down about two miles to some pull-up bars I hit every morning. In the middle of set two it happened. The cough-gag that can only lead to one thing.
I gutted it down, pretended it didn’t happen, then grabbed my backpack and made my way back up the long hill and the remaining two miles home.
I decided to take it a little slower than normal because Texas thought there should be a heat index of 86 in February this morning. All was going fine as I came towards the final leg of the hill.
Then it hit me. The cough-gag-cough-gag-stomach turn. I knew what was coming. I could feel it. I did everything I could to hold it back and actually managed to slow it down.
At this point I decided that walking might be my best bet for a while as there was a school bus loading up kids maybe 50 feet in front of me. I should have informed my dog that this was only going to be a quick stop. As we slowed down my dog’s nose dropped and his fluffy husky tail shot straight up into the air. This can only mean one thing.
One interesting thing about my dog is that when he is doing the deed, he doesn’t remain stationary. He feels the need to spin around in circles multiple times WHILE he is conducting his business. He will drop a turd on the turd-clock at 2, 4, 5:37, 9 and midnight. Given the heat, I should have figured out that this wouldn’t be his normal solid droppings, but more of a liquid composite. I wasn’t thinking of this. I also wasn’t thinking that my dog likes to rotate while he poops and didn’t notice that my foot was planted firmly at 5:37.
As the school bus started to move towards us I heard some girl cry out from the bus “pretty dog!” I looked up and smiled and that’s when it hit me. It felt like a warm sneeze had launched out and wrapped itself around my ankle.
I looked down and saw the brown disaster that was now sticking to my incredibly sweaty ankle. I cough-gagged once more and then out it came. The pre-workout I had forced down my throat had come back with a vengeance and launched itself onto my neighborhood street splattering for all the children to see.
I heard the “ewwwwwwwws” and the “that’s fucking disgusting” come out from the school bus as I held my head in shame.
As I made my way home I knew there was no coming back from this one. This wasn’t just any bus stop, this was the bus stop that my kid would be using one day. Between this and the disaster Christmas present lie from my mother, I knew that I was going to have to move.
I’ve brought shame upon my family and I just know that tonight all those little turds on the school bus are going to go home and share the GIFs they’ve created of me throwing up in the street after my dog shit on me..
Image via Shutterstock