1996. When I was 10 years old, I saved portions of my allowance for weeks to buy my first cassette tape: the Spice Girls’ first album. The day finally came when we were going to the mall and I had the exact amount to buy it. I actually wasn’t feeling too good that day, but my low EQ ass didn’t want to wait another week to get my beloved Spice Girls, so I forced myself to go anyway.
At the mall’s department store, my family spread out to do our own errands. I was in cold sweats by the time I handed my money to the cashier. As she wrapped up my coveted treasure, I lost control of my body and felt my colon relax. Instantly, a mix of relief and terror washed over me.
Yes, that’s right, I shat myself in the mall.
The cashier was still stapling the receipt to the bag when I snatched the package from her hands and ran off.
After frantically searching the department store for my mother, I found her and told her what happened, with big, fat, embarrassed tears rolling down my hot face. I could feel my underwear still warm and almost leaking. Calm and in control, she took my hand and immediately made a beeline for the nearest ladies’ toilet and stuck me in a stall. “Stay here and wait for me, I’ll be right back,” she said.
While on the toilet, I cried thinking how dumb I was to let this happen to me at that age, and even worse, I was paralyzed with the absolute fear that my big sisters were NEVER going to let me live this down.
Before I could spiral any further, I heard my mom’s voice call out. When she entered the stall, she was carrying a bottle of water and a new pair of underwear. With her signature efficiency, she cleaned me up, got me changed, wrapped and discarded all evidence, and before I knew it, it was like nothing ever happened. There was no scolding, no lecture, no laughing, not even a snicker. She didn’t add to my humiliation. And most of all, without me having to ask, she said, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” And she kept that promise. We went home and my sisters were none the wiser. It was always our secret – until now of course.
I bring this up today on her 70th birthday because it is such a snapshot of who my mom is as a person and a mother. She is someone who can be trusted to keep a secret – no matter how small and trivial – and she believes everyone deserves dignity – even a little kid with poopy pants. She inspires me to do the same for my own daughter when she’s inevitably in a (pun fully intended) crappy situation. Whenever I hear a Spice Girls song, I always remember that day.
