Yes, that's right. I peed on myself. Ha! I bet you expected it would be a child peeing on me when you read the title. Well NO! I peed on myself.
In fact, the whole of yesterday was a bit of a disaster. I went to my piano lesson without my music, to the supermarket without my shopping list, forgot to take lunch with me, forgot to take the plastic bags into the supermarket and... yes... peed on myself.
Those of you who are of the female persuasion will know what I mean by "hovering". For those unfamiliar with female toilet facilities, let me say that when it comes to loos, women are NOT the fairer sex. Hovering is when you attempt to sit in mid air above the seat to protect your behind from the grot that others have left, or minging germs.
The toilets in the supermarket were clean(ish), but for some reason had no seats to speak of. So hovering was in order. However, because when hovering speed is of the essence (before your legs buckle under the strain) let's say I peed enthusiastically. The pee hit the bowl, sprayed up in the air and went over the back of my jeans. Luckily, the jeans were navy (wet patch not too visible) and I noticed before too much damage was done. But peeing on myself pretty much summed up my day.
Mind you, I usually end up the day with pee on me from someone or other - at least it was my own this time...!
Walking back to the car, I passed the ride-on cars (the sort where your child sits in, inserts a euro and the car moves around and plays a silly tune). I wondered idly to myself what the reaction would be if I sat on one of these, as a fully fledged adult, and couldn't help but laugh at the imagined response.
Luckily, I restrained myself, went home and changed my jeans. If only they did nappies in "large mummy arse" size... xx