Tale 49 - Caught Short

 The Prince of Tales always wants to go to the toilet. 

As a child, I remember having the below conversation very well!

Me - “I want to go to the toilet!”

Mum - “ Why did you not go before we left the house!”

Me - “I did not want to go then!”

Mum - “Well you should have tried!”

As a child, the phrase ‘You should have tried’ baffled me. 

How could I try if I did not want to go!

However, as an adult and dad, I am obviously now using the same lines! 

It is important that stupid traditions are passed down the family line!

Yesterday, we had been in the car about five minutes when the Prince of Tales wanted a wee using the ‘Door trick’

(Door Trick - Definition - Park your car at the side of the road. Open up both doors of the car nearest the kerb. (Doors act as camouflage whilst the Prince of Tales has a wee.) WARNING - If you have a child with no aim, like the Prince of Tales, then your car door will get hit by wee. When door closes, particularly on a hot day, smell of stale urine drifts around the car!)

The Prince of Tales had his wee and gave a big sigh of relief when entering the car! 

“Try to go before you set off next time!” I said!

(You know the rest of the conversation that followed!)

After a few minutes, the Prince of Tales asked “ Did you ever need to go to the toilet in a hurry when you were younger?”

And the tale began.

I attended three schools as a child. Primary School, Middle School and Upper School. The majority of middle schools in the country have now disappeared. That is sad, as for me, it was the best time ever!

St George Middle School no longer exists in Bradford. 

It was a fantastic school. 

I learned a lot, but learned through fun. The school was sport mad, and it was an amazing place to attend. Mr Moriarty was my PE teacher, and it was probably then that I first thought about being a PE specialist myself. My dream would have been to be like Mr Moriarty and work at St George, but sadly the school had gone by the time I qualified. 

The sport on offer was fantastic. Mr Moriarty not only ran traditional school teams, but also ran form competitions. We played rounders, basketball, football etc. They were fiercely competitive but great fun. I loved the school.

However, there was one day that sticks in my memory for all the wrong reasons! 

Mr Moriarty had set up a cricket team. We had a lot of keen and very able cricketers. 

I was no great cricketer, but I was a games player and could slog a ball, so I got a place  in the team.

Our first game was Buttershaw Middle School at home.

We were told that we did not have to buy cricket whites, and a tracksuit would be fine. I passed this message on to my grandma.

“I will get you some whites, don’t you worry!” She said.

What I ended up with probably made me look like ‘Casper’ from the film Kes.

My grandma bought a pair of white trousers, recycled an old school shirt, and gave me a white cardigan she used to wear. She told it would look like a jumper if i buttoned it up! 

I looked a prat, but as you will find out in future tales, this was not unusual.

The day of the game arrived and we were all excited.

The strange thing though was the ‘butterflies’ I had in my my stomach, which was unusual. 

Buttershaw batted first. 

I was on the boundary fielding. 

The butterflies were getting worse! This was strange. My stomach was churning.

It was then that a learned that sometimes in life, you learn that passing wind can be a bad move.

This was one of those occasions. 

Warm liquid trickled down my trousers into my socks. This was very visible, as my whites were displaying a perfect imprint of where the poo was rolling down my legs!

For anyone, this was a nightmare, but for a 12 year old child in the middle of a cricket match, it was a disaster! If  I admitted what had happened, I would  be reminded of it by my school mates for the rest of my life. My new nickname will be “Sh**** pants” and I will be forever tarnished (in more ways than one!)

After some careful thought, I decided to turn into the most dynamic fielder ever!

 I started practice diving, throwing myself everywhere to stop a pretend ball! My trousers become dirtier and dirtier. This was covering the stains (I hoped!)

There was still a problem though. As well as poo staining pants, it also stinks. The smell was horrific. If anyone came anywhere near me, I would soon be exposed.

I needed a plan, and quick as the over was about to end and I would be changing fielding positions and running past all my team mates. 

The next shot that came my way, I dived forward. 

“Oh no” I cried.

The teachers ran over thinking I was hurt. 

“Whats wrong?” They asked.

“I have just dived in a massive pile of dog poo!  I am covered in it!” I shrieked.

Everyone laughed at me, but I preferred my mates thinking I dived  in it rather then I produced it!

After a discussion it was decided I should go home. 

Mr Moriarty said he would get a teacher to take me to where I lived!

No chance. Imagine the stains on the seat and the smell. I would soon be exposed!

“I lived close to school Sir, I can run him quickly, no problem” I replied.

I ran through all the side streets until I got to my grandmas. It was a bus ride away and not close at all, but I did my best to avoid all human interaction!

When I got to my grandmas I washed all my clothes and had a bath. I dried all my cricket whites on the boiler. 

I did not plan to play cricket again so I would find somewhere to dump them! 

My plan had worked! I was a genius!

Well I would have been if I had remembered leaving my white trousers on the boiler and my plan to dispose of them!

A few days later, my grandma collared me 

“ I have taken your cricket trousers back to the shop.” She said.

“What?” I exclaimed! 

“There was a dirty brown stain on the back of them I had not noticed when I bought them. Made it look like you sh** yourself!” She commented (suggesting she maybe knew more than she was letting on!)

She produced a brand new pair out of her bag.

“Anyway, I took them back, I always keep the receipt!” She proudly announced. She had no issues taking anything back to the shops for a refund or replacement, and I mean anything! 

I looked at my new white cricket trousers. I wondered who might have bought my old brown stained cricket trousers. Shops often put returns or rejects in a cheap box on special offer. Surely no one would buy brown stained trousers cheap?

“Thank you” I said to my grandma.

My grandma smiled. “ I have not finished yet. They also let me have the old stained ones at half price! I’ll get that stain out!” 

I never played school cricket again. 

However, my brother did a year or two later, and I had a lovely pair of ‘used’ white trousers I was very happy to pass down to him! 

The Prince of Tales laughed. He likes a good ‘poo’ story.

“I think I would have done what you did but I would have told you or mummy when I got home” he said.

I looked at him bemused! 

“I was 12 Harry. I could not tell people I had done a poo in my pants, not even my parents or grandma.”

The Prince of Tales shook his head. “ I would always tell you, even if I was 37.”

I left it there. I could not argue with honesty. However, if when he is 37 he does tell me he has sh** his pants I draw the line at wiping his bum!

Have you ever been caught short in the worst place possible! Let me know