Okay, so we've all been in that awful situation when you’ve got a full bladder and there isn’t a loo for miles. But I really doubt anyone has ever been what I went through!
Okay, so I was just about to leave work and catch the train home when I realized I needed the toilet. I was running late though, and I wasn’t TOO desperate so I decided to wait until I got home. I was late enough to have to run to catch the train – and let me tell you, running with a full bladder is no fun!
Ten minutes later, the train ground to a halt and a voice came over the tannoy announcing that there would be a short delay due to an obstruction on the line. I gritted my teeth, crossed my legs and distracted myself by reading the newspaper.
Twenty excruciating minutes later, the train was on its way again and after a further ten minutes, I jumped onto the platform and started hurrying home. My mother takes care of my five-year-old, Lia, in the gap between her school finishing and my return from work. However, considering my desperate state, I didn’t think she’d mind if I was a few minutes late. So I set off at a run in the opposite direction from mum’s.
The five minute run to my house did not do my bursting bladder any favours and by the time I reached my door I was bouncing on the spot as I tried to locate my key. After realizing I appeared to have lost it, it took all my self-control to keep from bursting into tears.I somehow managed to keep my cool, did an about-turn and sat off at a sprint to mum’s.
I stabbed at her doorbell, my legs twining around each other in a desperate attempt to keep my wee from escaping.
Finally, finally, mum opened the door for me.
“At last! Lia’s all ready to go!” she said.
“Great,” I said, pushing past her. “Can I use your loo?”
“Your dad’s in there,” she said. “Bit of an upset tummy.”
I stared at her, my legs jiggling around frantically.
“Fine! Can I borrow your key?”
Naturally, she took an age to find it. I was near hysterical by the time she finally returned with it, without a care for my urgent toilet needs.
And my troubles were far from over.
We were about half way home when Lia suddenly stopped in the middle of the street.
“I need a wee.” she announced. Oh great. This was all I needed.
“You’ll have to hang on, darling.” I said.
“I’m bursting!” she said. Did I know the feeling!
“Come on,” I said, grabbing her hand. “We’ll run!”
But we had only gone a little way when she stopped again.
“I can’t mummy!” wailed Lia, squirming. “My wee’s coming out!”
I felt like screaming as I hopped up and down. What was she trying to do to me!?
When I reached my front door ten minutes later, carrying my wriggling, desperate daughter on my hip (helpfully pressing into my overflowing bladder), I was THIS close to breaking down.
I fumbled with the key, unlocked the door and waddled into the house. (I would have run, but I was at the stage were even just walking normally meant peeing freely.)
I stumbled to the bathroom, the end in sight, but before I could get to the toilet, Lia had run past me, shedded her trousers and was enjoying the relief of having a much-needed wee.
I, on the other hand, was left to pray I could wait just a few more seconds.
My knickers dampened as a few drops escaped. I thrust my hands into my crotch and stamped my feet like a child, more desperate than I have ever been in my life but determined to keep it in.
Lia finished up and the second she jumped off the loo, I dashed in and dropped my pants.
Ho-ly Cow!
I’ve heard some pretty desperate stories in my time, but I challenge you to get worse that what happened to me!
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