Last year we went camping with a few other families. I'd purchased some wonderfully bright cream chinos especially for the event. The tent went up a treat, the campfire was roaring and the lukewarm beer was flowing. The chinos looked just the part.
I felt what I thought would be a rather loud fart coming. Hoping for a fantastic humorous effect, I offered my finger to my fellow campers to pull, whereupon I squeezed with all my might to get the best sound.
But rather than the sound of ripped curtains, I, and all the other campers, just heard a dull squelch. Then silence.
I had just followed through [pooped] into a pair of unblemished cream chinos. I was hoping that it wouldn't show, but I was sadly mistaken. It left an almighty mess. Emptying out your own mess from your own chinos into a portaloo at 1 AM isn't much fun.
The next day the in-laws came to visit, which was very nice, but, as she left, the mother-in- law asked if there was any washing we wanted doing and without thinking my wife passed over the carrier bag containing my poop-stained-chinos.
Gawd bless her, she washed them and never mentioned it. I supposed it will teach me for thinking Cream Chinos are in any way acceptable.
April 6, 2012
This camping tale comes to us from Wildyles: