We’ve all been there, and the three choices are:
Hubs and I were compatible yesterday, and grateful for his and hers loos on site.
Here’s a little ditty to make you smile, just don’t laugh too hard if you’re suffering.
It started with a niggle,
A fluttery kind of jiggle,
Not exactly unpleasant
But it didn’t pay to be hesitant.
A quick dash up the gantry,
Knowing she must hurry,
Before the rumbling started,
Or worse, the bowels farted.
Thinking of what she’d eaten
That morning or last evening
That could account for the trauma
Of the churning that came to warn her.
As she sat there debating
For the movement she’d been awaiting,
She contemplated the ceiling
Whilst her legs lost all their feeling.
Finally relief to be ‘letting go’
Of whatever it was that upset her so.
It seemed to go on forever,
Then the volcanic rush was over,
She stood, got herself together,
Feeling a hundred times better.
Outside it had become colder
Her footsteps were firm, quick and bolder
But suddenly doubled up in pain
She had to turn back from whence she came.
The night was passed with great caution:
In case of a similar motion,
Movement was kept to a minimum,
‘Going’ all the time was no fun.
Hoping her guts would behave,
Breaking wind was definitely brave,
And although the thought made her downcast
She had no choice tomorrow but Fast.