liquid sense

A sudden liquid sense above 
and beyond the anus 
cued him to a neglected truth. 

It is better to go to the bathroom 
- in public, in your pants - 
than to leave this moment 
of laughter and grace, 
good company, 
bonhomie! 

But the consequence could
be terrible. It's impossible
to predict! So wised-up,
he arose, 

(How shall I explain this?
Go classy. Use classy grandma
terms - no offense!)

"I'll be right back. I have 
to leave a bowel movement 
in the commode." Lowered 
voice, "Don't worry! I bet 
it's mostly diarrhea." 

"Thanks for sharing," Sharon 
replied with a blank look. 

"Thanks for Sharon!" he called 
gaily over one shoulder. And 
stepped lively - in public! In
his pants. Where do you suppose 

he was going? Let's deduce. Pants?

Check. Tactfully-worded bodily
excuse? Check! Headed in 
the general direction of "the head"? 

Check. 

To the bathroom, then!
It all adds up, hangs together, 
holds water. Flushes, and
washes its hands.  

Let's hope. 

Let's find out! He returns. 

Expectant faces, eyebrows 
raised all around. Well? 

"What," he settles in, "Were 
we all talking about?" 

"YOU." A chorus 

in unison