Shits

I look forward to getting away all year But I go and get the shits A holiday is supposed to be the years highlight The same for my fellow Brits I don’t know what has come over me But my stomach is a churning Something I ate or too much sun But it feels like something is burning It culminated in an incident That I never want to repeat The twinges started, the feeling was there And I started to wiggle my feet My daughter is in the shower She’s messing about, taking an age The feeling is becoming overwhelming I really am at that stage My belly is like a washing machine I holler at her to get out She’s taking her time; this is no good She didn’t hear my first shout I shouted again and banged on the door At this point I’m touching cloth I’ve got seconds now to hit the pan I need to release the broth Finally, at last, she exited the shower room It was Just in time …. or so I thought The moment came as such a relief Things were getting seriously fraught I barged through and shut the door And quickly took off my kegs But was facing the wrong way, the feeling too strong And I sprayed the floor and my legs I turned around to sit on the bog A full one hundred and eighty degrees The projectile rusty water never stopped it’s even on the back of my knees I sat down and looked around in disgust Horrific, two brown pools on the floor It’s hit the walls, it’s hit the bin There’s even splashes on the door As for the bog, what a sight It’s all over the back of the seat A nasty experience all around What one arse can excrete As for the stench, it’s hard to describe It was close to making me sick But no time to mess around, I need to clean up the slick There is a lesson to be learned here And that is never to wait Don’t worry about modesty, get on the bog Or you too could end up in this state!