Friday, December 28, 2012

Day 1180 - Date Night

Just the two of us ....
Date Night - Deep Fried Fruit and Mr DFF
Yesterday Derek and I drove home from the coast so that we could both catch up on some work and so that he could play golf with his mates today.  Given we left the kids with their grandparents and cousins, it also gave us the opportunity to go on a date. We had a great night ... until I wet myself.

We got home from the coast at around 4.00pm. After spending a few hours catching up on emails and conquering the world we headed to our local cocktail bar for a few drinks and nibbles.  I wore my white jeans, my "races blouse" and (to use a Kath-and-Kim-ism) a pair of high heeled clacky mules. I ran out of time to take a shower so I pulled my hair back in a messy bun. I had to go with the messy version as I'd left my Kim Kardashian sock bun at the coast. 

We drove the 3km to the bar (on account of my clacky mules) and found ourselves a lovely bench overlooking the road and passers-by.  The chairs were bar stools with comfy squishy seats. I checked the seat for liquid, crumbs and other things that would be disastrous on white jeans.  The seat cleared inspection so I sat down.

We were pretty stoked to find that the cocktails were discounted to ten bucks. Bonus! I started with some sort of apple and Cinnamon concoction and then progressed to the MILF.  Apparently that's a cocktail for all the multi-tasking and ever perfect yummy mummy's.  I figured if I drank it I may turn into one.

We ordered a plate of nachos and some hot wings and sat chatting about the year that was. We've definitely had a huge year and one well worth toasting.  So we said cheers a lot, took some self photos and pretended like we were yuppies with no responsibilities, no financial constraints and nothing on our mind other than the drinks in our hands.

It was then that I had this overwhelmingly urgent need to go to the toilet.  I tipped myself off the bar stool and teetered on my heels. Derek held out his hand to steady me.  My legs felt weird.

"You're all wet" he said.

I looked at my shirt.  "No I'm not."

"Yes you are - your pants are all wet ... and kind of yellowy brown".  

I looked around at my white jean clad butt and realised that I was actually wet.  No wonder my legs felt weird - I could feel the cold between my thighs.  That would explain my sudden urgent need for the bathroom. I touched my chair. It was dry.  Hang on a minute! Have I wet myself?  Have I lost all control of my middle aged bodily functions and actually peed in my white jeans? Not possible. I still needed to go to the toilet so as far as I could tell the valve had yet to be released.

"Oh my God Derek! Why am I wet? Am I leaking?"

"Possibly. I think I need to call you a plumber."

I got the giggles.  What else could I do? I'm standing there with a beige stain on my pants in the middle of a bar, a MILF in my hand and no clue as to what internal pipe may have broken. Suddenly I realised that I was standing at the eye level of the people at the table behind us in my soiled white jeans so I sat back down.  Things were really feeling squishy down there now.  Not exactly yummy mummy material.

Well, this was awkward! I got the nervous giggles again.  Somehow we would need to get me up and out of the bar with my arse covered and my pride still in tact. Husband started pondering the complexities of the female plumbing system and how he would need to take me to the nearest hospital if something had actually exploded.  I told him to stop pondering and to get me to the car. I needed to get home and to the toilet.  At which point he suggested I may as well just let it all out given I was wet anyway. Then we could wait until dark to make our escape.  I thought about it for a few seconds but realised I was way to civilised for that and I really would prefer to get changed.

So we stood up, I put my handbag behind my bum, he walked behind me and we tried to look nonchalant as we headed to the car.  He started his pondering again.

"The chair has got to be wet.  Your insides couldn't have burst. I'm going back to check"

"I checked it before I sat down, and then I checked it again just now. The seat is not wet.  I think I am leaking."

"I'm going back to check."

So he went one way and I went the other, clacking my way down the street with my handbag banging against my bum hoping no one would recognise me behind my sunglasses.  I got to the car and inspected the damage.  How odd! This deep fried middle aged bullshit is seriously depressing.  Fancy losing my faculties at this age. This seriously sucks.

Just as I vowed never to wear white again and contemplated contacting a urinary incontinence pad company to sponsor this blog, Derek jumped back in the car.

"Good news! You're not leaking.  It's the chair."

"I'm not leaking?  I haven't lost control of my faculties?"

"Nope. The chair had a cut in the cushion and when I pushed down on it the water from last night's rain started dribbling out.  Your jeans just soaked it all up."

"Well that's a relief!"  I did a mental cross next to the Deep Fried Fruit letter I was about to write to the Poise panty liner company.

We drove home washed my jeans, ordered pizza and watched TV before falling into bed at about 10pm.

And that my friends was our middle aged date night. Cocktails, nibbles, clacky mules, a not-so-yummy-mummy, a dodgy chair and serious concerns about my internal plumbing.

I cant' help but wonder what the hell old age has got in store for us.


  1. Glad your man dbl checked or you would be questioning your sanity for a long time.

  2. I'm sorry, but that made me laugh! What a night - at least you could laugh about it and it sounded like you both had a great time, regardless. And yes, I do often wonder what indignities lay before us in old age!

  3. What an awesome bloke to go back and check! Now you can rest easy!
    I'm so neurotic I'd have been up half the night wondering what dreadful illness had befallen me. :)

  4. You know how to have a fun night out don't you~ ;)

    He's a very good boy for triple checking that chair!

  5. LOL, what a funny story!! What a good man you have. Rachel xx

  6. OMG, I just love this!!

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  8. Oh no you poor thing! Glad to know your pipes are all in working order and no plumber required, men have such a romantic way of putting things dont they :)

  9. Oh dear!!!but it's always the way, isn't it? The one rare night you get to go on a date and something has to happen! At least your bodily functions are working well :)


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