Netherlands Near Dookie Experience

OHMYGOD I’m going to shit my tights right here in old-timey Amersfoort!  That’s what I was thinking while standing next to my husband Chris, our wonderful local guide Frans, and some other tourists who were all entranced with the thousand-year-old fortress gate castle thing we were standing in.  We don’t have these things in the U.S. so I’m not sure what to call it.

I am sure that it did not have public restrooms because I would have been running for them if it did. 

My husband looked around at the ancient brick while Frans told him some sort of interesting historical fact.  I don’t know what he said because I’m half deaf on a good day, and totally deaf when my heart is beating in a panic due to a possible newsworthy fecal accident.

I thought back to my recent butthole surgery. My surgeon had said he didn’t have to cut very far into the muscle.  So, incontinence should not be an issue.  I crossed all of my toes and gave my husband the ASL sign for toilet when I managed to capture his attention away from this ancient Dutch building.

He nodded calmly at me, as though this weren’t about to become the most embarrassing day of my life since I pissed myself on the playground in second grade.

Frans, whom I had mistakenly called Hans earlier (Hello 80s SNL), led Chris farther away from the exit and kept talking.  All I heard was “historydutchfortressstuff” while I clenched my butt cheeks like I was trying to build up Kardashian-level glutes.

“Chris! I have to go to the bathroom,” I panic whispered while giving him my best “This isn’t just a pee” face.   He finally got it and asked Franz if there was a bathroom nearby. 

“Um, well we are about 10 minutes from the office.  Is that OK or do we need to find something?”

He meant a 10-minute walk.  Also, we were in an area with small shops, restaurants, and residences.  It’s not like I could just walk into a Circle K destroy their facilities and buy a Diet Coke as an apology.

“Ten minutes is fine,” I lied while getting into some Olympic-level butt-clenching. 

Turns out I wasn’t lying.  I actually made it back to the office where I calmly hung up my coat and walked into the bathroom like a normal person who just had to pee.  Two courtesy flushes and some scented spray later and I was back at my laptop grading students’ essays planning my offering to the Universal Kittens. 

I’m totally squeezing my butt and praying here.