Sometimes its best to take the cr*p

I was thirteen years old and had recently began dating my first girlfriend, it was all going rather swimmingly, and I believed like most thirteen years olds that our love was purer than all others and that this, would last forever. Of course, it was not, and it didn’t last but in that window of time I believed that this was IT. As any thirteen-year-old in love you agree to do anything to preserve your relationship so when my girlfriend contacted me early one morning in a frenzy I agreed to help.

So, while we had not had sex, my girlfriend was one of those girls that love risk and loved to push buttons, knowing full well that I was quite naïve in the ways of love, she planned a hilarious practical joke on me. Having persuaded me to go around her house the night before and struggled to lure me into kissing her for three weeks prior, her idea was to get me around and persuade me that we were going to have sex, she had no intention of having sex with me but wanted to see me squirm. She had obtained condoms and the minute she got me into her bedroom placed the packet of condoms in my hand and said that I would need these. I could literally feel my heart in my mouth and apparently changed colours a great many times, before dropping the packet on the floor and her laughing at me hysterically.

The dilemma was that she had forgotten to pick up the condoms that I had dropped and that while she was at school her mother might clean her room. Knowing that her mother was out shopping, we agreed that I would meet her on the way to school collect her key and go to her house and remove the offending item. The plan was set, and everything would be just fine. I did not have to go to school that morning as we had a teacher training day as we were both at different schools.

As so often in life things went wrong right from the offset, revealing that I was leaving to go out, my mother told me that she planned to go out and as a result I must take out 5-month-old dog with me as she should not be left at home alone. Reluctantly I complied and the dog and I headed for my girlfriend’s house, after a rendezvous near her school for key collection.

Arriving at the house, I unlocked the door and headed up the stairs down a long marble floored corridor, the house was a new build and ahead of its time, as most houses had carpeted floor. Amazed at my incredible ninja like skills I nipped in the bedroom, picked up the packet and went to flee the scene of the crime. But as I left the room to my horror, I discovered that our puppy had defecated on the floor. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was clean up dog mess, back in those days if a dog messed in the street you just walked on and left it, but I could not get away with leaving it in a house especially given that they had no pets. Having only been in the house once I was not yet familiar of the layout so checked the first door I found, which sure enough was the bathroom. My plan was to get some toilet paper clean up the mess and flush down the toilet. The problem was having arrived in the toilet there was no toilet paper, in fact the bathroom seemed hardly usable, it was like a laundry with clothes everywhere. My horror grew when I heard the phone downstairs ring and instantly get answered, either my girlfriends’ mother had come home, or been there all the time.

For the second time in 24 hours my heart was in my mouth, I’d noticed in the bathroom multiple pairs of generic boys’ underwear all in white (her brothers) so I grabbed a pair scooped up the dog mess, threw them down the toilet and flushed it, fleeing the scene of the crime, straight down the stairs, dog in tow. I reached the front door, opened it, and slipped out. For whatever reason the door must have had some breeze behind it, maybe an open rear door, but rather than closely silently it closed with a bang and I had barely got 2 metres down the path than my girlfriends mother called out to me from the door I had just exited. “What are you doing here?” I turned around and said that I forgot that my girlfriends’ school was open today and that I had come to call for her only to realise that she was not here, so I opted to leave. “But you shut the door?” I calmly explained I had not shut the door, I had banged the door, maybe a bit too loudly then realised my error. My girlfriends mother gave me a slightly damning look but seemed to accept my response. I waved a cheery farewell and left.

Just after 3pm I met with my girlfriend, exchanged keys, walked her home and then chirpily made my own way home with the dog. Arriving home, I found a disappointed mother awaiting me, hands on hips glaring at me “What have you been up to?” I questioned the tone, as other than the earlier incident my day had been fine, I’d walked around our community most of the day stopping only for chips at lunchtime from a Fish and Chip Shop on the other side of town. The terrible story then reached my horrified ears as a variation of the days events was revealed.

So it seems in my girlfriends mothers version of events I had broken into my girlfriend’s house, defecated into my underwear, thrown said underwear down the toilet, flushed and left, lying my way out of sticky situation. What I did not know was that this was the spare bathroom, with faulty plumbing unfinished since construction phase, no toilet roll was present as it was not an operational bathroom, they had two other bathrooms that they were using so opted to use this as a place to dry washed clothes, a sort of laundry. So, having flushed the underwear, the toilet overflowed flooding, the bathroom, the kitchen below, hallways and even reaching the peripheries of bedrooms and living rooms. My girlfriends mother left to go shopping not long after I left and as a result never noticed the mass flowing water until she returned home 5 hours later. From my side, I was able to prove to my mother that I had not parted with my underwear (after an underwear audit) and explained the whole scenario, which she partially believed but still grounded me for the ill convincing condom story. My girlfriend and I never saw each other again, other than some years later from a distance. After all I was the one who trashed their entire home after apparently defecating myself.