What started off as a lovely weekend trip to Canada hit a speed bump before we even made it across the border.
I've taken at least half a dozen trips to Canada. Sometimes the border lines are short and quick, sometimes long and slow.
That particular day, that lovely fall day, we breezed down the highway that led to the border. Then the traffic stopped. About two miles from the border. At about the same moment my stomach cramped sharply. I had to go #2. Soon. I spent the next half hour or so shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat next to my husband. The traffic crawled about half the distance to the checkpoint. The checkpoint was within view...But still so far. The traffic was several lanes wide. It became unbearable. "I don't think I can wait", I whimpered to my husband. He produced a plastic bag "Can you do something with this?" There are lots of things I could do with a plastic bag, but none of them seemed relevant to the situation. I furrowed my brow at him and continued to try to position myself in a way that did not make me feel as though my colon were going to burst.
Another half hour passed, and we moved less than we had in the previous half hour. I couldn't take it anymore and began to ponder what indeed I could do with that plastic bag. I forced myself to wait (I guess my body LET me wait, because I don't think I was in a position to force anything at that point) until we were no longer next to the tractor trailer truck which would have had an amazing (horrible) view into our car and the whole terrible situation.
I positioned myself and the bag in such a position as to inconspicuously (I hope) do what I had to do. It wasn't the neatest thing in the world, but it could have been worse...Like if I didn't have the bag.
The event having passed (so to speak), I sat uncomfortably as we waited to finally approach the border patrol. The bag tucked beneath the seat, I prayed silently to God to not let the border agents find cause to search the vehicle. If they found that bag and its contents...Well, surely they would think we were sneaking in some sort of contraband in there...We'd be arrested in Canada for attempting to import a bag of fecal matter.
Thankfully, so thankfully, we made it across the border without incident. I was so nervous, I'm surprised the border agent didn't think we must be hiding something and search us just because. We stopped at a McDonalds just past the border so I could get cleaned up. I spent a ridiculous amount of time in the handicapped stall taking care of the situation.
We eventually made it to our hotel...A very strange start to the trip indeed. My husband was incredibly kind and could have made me feel even more humiliated that I already did...But somehow he managed to make me feel better about the whole situation and we continued on to have a great trip. Unconditional love.
We have a name for the incident, sentimentally named after the border area.
The only #2 accident of my adult life, and it spanned a two country area.
Lesson to be learned - Always try to go to the bathroom before heading for the border. Even if you think you don't have to go.
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