Holy Bloated Bags, Batman!!!

06-29-15. Shitastrophe

This morning there was nearly a ‘shit’astrophe.

My dear human turned off her 2am alarm in her sleep.  Which she should never, ever do again when she eats Mexican food for a late dinner.

Luckily, our subconscious kicked in around 4am and poked her brain and said she might want to wake up and check the pouch.

So, CC went from a groggy, half-awake state to…”OMG, it’s gonna blow!!!”  In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her move so quickly – or as quickly as a sleep-addled, pudgy woman who has a ready-to-explode bag of feces glued to her can move, I suppose.

I’m not sure either of us have experienced a pouch quite so full and pressurized.  We did make it to the restroom before there was a scene but a pouch change was required because we could tell the seal was already going.

But, if it had gone much longer, there would have been an incident of profound disgustingness.  Because nothing says “sexy” quite like hosing yourself and your husband down with poo in the wee hours of the morning.

We’re just glad our subconscious was paying attention this morning!

brain

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