Playscape Sharts: A Cautionary Tale

Took my boy over to the new indoor play center on Howard Lane the other day. To be honest, it seemed a bit run down and dingy for a brand new establishment but we decided to give it a go anyway. It only cost six bucks to get in and that included a brand new pair of socks for the boy.

There was a massive indoor obstacle course complete with slides, balance beams and various other medieval torture devices. I felt a tad large for the course but James was having a ball so I soldiered on and followed behind him.

Getting to the top of the slide proved a cumbersome act for a broad shouldered man such as myself. I was just lifting my leg towards my final purchase point when disaster struck. At the time I wasn’t certain whether it was a fart or a shart but I feared the worst.

Now this wasn’t the first time I shit my pants and it certainly won’t be the last, in a situation like this you have to avoid panic at all costs. I knew I had to get to a bathroom immediately so I could access the damage but it wasn’t gonna be easy.

The slide was now too dangerous an option so I grabbed James close and made my way back out the way we came. I passed several moms on the way down that seemed to sense or maybe smell that something was awry. I held James close as I returned their stares with a look that said “my poor boy here has just shit himself, please don’t judge”.

After reaching the restroom I immediately questioned my love for liverwurst, whiskey and smoked oysters. The shart was probably around a 3 on the 10 point shitaster scale, nothing I couldn’t handle but a situation none the less. Turns out my underwear was a total loss but other than that I was able to escape the situation relatively unscathed.

After cleaning myself up and stashing my draws deep in the trash can we headed back out to the course. My wife hates those places because she has this crazy idea that they smell and are full of germs but I think she’s overreacting.

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