My brother likes to call it "1989" swearing it's the year this incident occurred. I would've been roughly ten years old. As a child, I had major anxiety. Each time my anxiety would rear its ugly head, a stomach ache/nausea would ensue. One early afternoon before my mother, brother, and I were about to go to my grandmother's pool, it hit me. It hit me hard. I rushed to the bathroom and exploded into the toilet. At one point, I realized that I was still feeling fairly nauseous and had to throw up. Since I thought I was done with the shitting, I stood up and turned around to face the toilet and throw up.
Much to mine and my mother's astonishment, my arse was not quite finished yet. Thus, my mother made me fully aware (as she was trying to calm me) that as I was puking in the toilet, my bowels were emptying on the floor. I had no idea this was even going on until she told me. The icing on the cake came right afterwards: My then seven year old brother witnessed our old dog licking some of it up before it got cleaned. I think we're all scarred for life.
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