So, there’s this commercial for something called Always Discreet Boutique…Maximum Protection…Made Beautiful. You may have seen it. They’re special panties for women who “leak”.
As my husband and I were muting it, I asked him, “Is this a thing? I mean, these women look my age! Am I now supposed to worry about leaking on top of every other weird aging thing that’s happening?”
“I don’t know, sweetie.” He responded.
It was a mere week later when I realized that, yes, this could be a thing.
Having driven down to Carlsbad for a visit with my husband’s Aunt and cousins, I had just sucked back my iced venti soy chai. It was a lovely day, clear, warm, perfect for a walk through the San Diego Botanic Gardens. A time to catch up with family and stroll through thirty-seven acres of 4,000 different plant species. But I really had to pee. I hadn’t felt that type of pressure on my bladder since I stood in line waiting for the single bathroom at a frat house in college. I wasn’t too worried, though. I mean, we’ll walk, we’ll hit a restroom, it’s fine.
Five minutes into the Bamboo Garden, I felt a drip. Wait, what? No. Oh no! I desperately looked for a place to sit down, you know, to possibly stop the pee in its tracks, but the only thing available was a bamboo bench that was for display purposes only. And then there was another drip. I did that whole crossing your legs thing but then, it was happening. Oh my god. This is not happening. Is this happening? Fuck!
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