A pair of swimming trunks for 2 quid
It was summer, and I had decided on a little trip to Wales to see the family with my 2 lovely little boys and boyfriend.

We arrived on Friday and after the long drive settled down for a drink or two of wine. 4 bottles and a VERY iffy Chinese takeaway later my boyfriend and I stumbled to bed feeling a more nauseous than amorous. Saturday morning dawned sunny and bright. Bastard. The children bounced into the bedroom like little balls of silly putty..."Mu-um, Uncle Steve says we're going to Tenby today! Hooray!" Hoo-bloody-ray.

My boyfriend had never seen the beauty of the Brecon Beacons, my uncle had a new sat nav device. We therefore tried to get to Tenby (Seaside town) via Brecon (Landlocked mountain range) It took 3.5 hours. About the same length of time it took me to get from London to Wales. Hooray.

Got to Tenby, exhausted, hungover and, quite frankly, ready to die, my youngest son pipes up "Mu-um I need to go to the toilet"

I choke down a little bit of sick

"Ok, give me a moment"

2 minutes later "mu-uum, I really need to go"

Sea air helping a bit, so off we go. Get into the toilet, I hang on for dear life while my son is next door, singing away happily. Exit toilet, detect scent of satan's arse emanating from son's arse area.
"You ok son?"
"Yes mum" son grins up cheerfully. I notice strange cappuchino-esque froth emerging from his trouser leg. NOOOOOOO.

YES! He has extravagantly and wilfully shit himself. As I struggled to remove his trousers I realised that he appeared to still have a pair of kharki coloured shorts on.

To cut a very long, and sadly, reeking episode short, My boyfriend and eldest son finally (20 minutes later) came to see what was taking us so long in the toilet (this after I frustratingly tried to clean my son with toilet roll, soap, hand wipes and eventually - out of desperation - bog washing, arse first. He cried a bit, the water was cold)

We required one pair of shorts that would cover his shame, URGENTLY.

My poor befuddled boyfriend returns with a pair he got for £2.00. Not only were they circa 1983, but they were white. Marvellous.

A dip in the sea to clean off the remaining shit was all that was necessary. YUP! Cheap tat - as see through as a Spice Girl comeback.

We hastened back to the car, got in and drove home.

Length? 3.5 hours there, 40 minutes of sheer (no pun intended) horror, followed by 1.5 hours journey home. Never.Again
( my_cat_has_no_shoes meh meh meh MEH MEH, Fri 4 Jan 2008, 20:05, 2 replies)

I hope
you made him feel VERY guilty for having ruined your day at the beach. Intentionally shitting himself is worthy of a Dope Slap.

I once took my sons to an amusement park with water rides on a day that was bright and clear but rather cool. I told them in no uncertain terms not to get wet from the spray of the log flume- and within an hour they were giggling and soaked to the skin. Twenty minutes after that they were cold and shivering and whining.

Did I stop in a shop to get them dry shirts? FUCK NO. I made them stay wet as we made our way back to the car, lecturing them the entire time on why sometimes Dad is right. I let them know that I was NOT happy about having paid to get in for only one hour because they were being boneheads. And I drove the entire hour home in silence broken only to tell them that no, I was not going to stop to get food, and if they were cold, it was their own damn fault.

The lesson was learned. Never had that problem again. If Dad tells them not to get wet, they listen. That way they get to stay for a good long time at the amusement park.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 4 Jan 2008, 20:29, closed)

Suffice it to say
the journey home involved me crying (and screaming "I need the toilet myself now" and sweating conkers) and we haven't visited beautiful Tenby since
( my_cat_has_no_shoes meh meh meh MEH MEH, Fri 4 Jan 2008, 22:04, closed)