Yeah, well there you go. I'm not sure what happened, if I was too busy having a good time to bother doing it the right way or if the signs were too subtle for me to react appropriately but I did it again.
I pooped in my pants.
I guess I should find some solace in the fact that I'm comfortable enough to say it out loud ("I pooped in my pants!") but still. There's got to be an end in sight, right? But I don't see it. My parents and my teachers all shrug their shoulders and say, "Oh well, that's okay. Maybe tomorrow. We're getting closer!" How do they know? They don't know what's going on inside of me. They don't know what I'm feeling or if I'll ever get the hang of it.
What if I don't? What if I never get the hang of pooping in the toilet and I'm forever pooping in my underpants? I know they say that I won't be doing this in college but what if I am? There must be people that never quite get the hang of pooping in toilet and what if I'm one of them? You won't read about them in the newspaper or see them on TV but they must exist. As big as world as this is those people must be out there.
Okay, I can't let this get to me. I need to concentrate and focus and keep my eye on the prize.
Poop in the potty.
Poop in the potty.
I can do this.
Just as a side-note, the poop in my underwear at school yesterday was so severe they had to use scissors to extract the underpants from my body. What the heck am I doing?
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