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Hi everyone! Normally I don't poop in my pants. This is a type of problem my uncle and my cousin refer to as a splush. But several years ago, as a result of a story my younger sister and I heard, my nasty younger sibling set me up for the grand-daddy of splushes. My Dad had both his brothers over one evening when I was fifteen and they began telling war stories about when they were kids. One of the stories concerned an episode in which they made bogus Hershey Kisses from chocolate-flavored laxative to discourage a friend's younger brother from eating his supply of the real McCoy. I should have realized from the gleam in her eye that Jeannie, who was nine at the time, had been evilly inspired. The next day, the whole extended family planned a day-long picnic and hike at Dinosaur State Park. Among the items to be eaten was a large container of candy, including quite a few Kisses. I later found out that Jeannie had filched some chocolate Ex-lax from the medicine cabinet and had made three nuclear Kisses, which she added to the rest in the container. I am a chocoholic and apparently got all three of them. About an hour after we ate, we began to hike up this long winding trail toward a lookout point. As we started up, I began to cramp, not ! badly, but I was hoping there might be a bathroom shed along the trail. I was wearing very short and light-weight light blue shorts and a red halter top. As we continued, the cramps got worse and I began to be afraid I might have a problem. There really wasn't any safe place to step off the trail and go out in the woods because the area is infested with copperheads and rattlesnakes. Thinking about the snakes made me decide to try to hold on. My dad noticed I was sweaty and pale and asked if I was okay, but I just told him I had a slight stomach ache and would be fine. Nevertheless, I began to lag behind. Everyone else decided to wait for me to catch up at a rest area at the miodpoint of the trail (still no bathroom, dern it) and were lounging around watching me come up the trail toward them. Just as I got into the middle of the rest area, pretty much surrounded by my family, A massive cramp hit me like a cannonball and massive quantities of poop began to blast into my shorts. ! My pants were tight and flimsy so the mess quickly soaked through the back and worked out and down my legs. As is my usual failing, I also peed in my pants. Everyone was treated to the spectacle of the eldest daughter with pee and poop gushing down her legs while I just stood there and let it happen. Jeannie was delighted for a moment and then started to get worried. I was crying like crazy and really carrying on. All four of us girls were regular pants-wetters and usually didn't get too upset about accidents, so she knew this was different. As my dad ran over to see to me, a second wave of poop, more or less diarrhea this time, came cascading down my legs. By this time, my legs were distinctly browner than normal and my white socks and tennis shoes were too. Dad decided that I needed to go back down to the picnic area, where there was a small river and bathrooms to sort myself out. Jeannie went with me and spent the whole trip down babbling apologies for what she did and begging me not to tell Dad. I managed to make it down without anymore splushing and ended up hiding in the bathroom while Jeannie (rather reluctantly) washed my shorts, panties, and shoes out in the river. My socks we consigned to the great dumpster. Finally, I was dressed again, soaked but clean. I not! iced that Jeannie had carefully gotten her shorts all wet while she was down at the water, which probably meant she had peed in her pants, too. We pooped around (excuse the expression) the picnic area and played around in the river where it ran over the rocks (upstream from the emergency laundry site, I might add) for the next 45 minutes until everyone came back down from the lookout. Everyone was pretty pooped (oops, excuse expression again {insert giggle}) and we delayed only long enough to have a cold drink each before loading the cars and heading home. At this point, I thought I was through with what had been a totally rotten day. I was comfortable and reasonably confident that no further accidents were in the offing. Jeannie was in the front seat with my parents and I was in the back with the twins, who were both out like a light. Just as I was about to let sleep overwhelm me too, a red-hot knife sliced into my belly just above my navel. Before I could so much as gasp, what must have been a gallon of liqui-poop exploded out of me. To this day Jeannie insists that it was spraying out both leg openings of my shorts! , although I really doubt it. I was too overcome with cramps and mortification to notice. Callie andAri were now awake, screaming, and fighting to get as far away from me as possible. A second wave of splush-osis hit me (wave is right, there was so much that I think it was displaying tides, high tides at that). Dad first began shouting that I was ruining the seat; that he was going to pull over and I should get out till I could control myself. Then he was suddenly shouting that I was ruining the air we were breathing and HE was going to get out until I got control of myself. We pulled off the road at a little road-side picnic area only to find no water. My clothes were worse than the first time, even though this time I hadn't peed. The grey seat was now brown and very yucky. Also, the car had developed that lived-in smell to the same degree that most poorly-maintained outhouses do. Poor Daddy got the nasty job of trying to swab the worst of it off the seat with the few paper t! owels we had left from the picnic. Poor me ended up sitting on a trashbag and wraped in the plastic table cloth, my shorts and panties abandoned in one of the trashcans at the rest area. We made it home without further outcome, but the back seat never really recovered. For the next three years, my younger sisters fought to not be the one who had to sit on "Diane's Spot". As for Jeannie? Lets just say that she was not the only one who was good at molding radioactive Hershey Kisses, but that's another story. BODY>