God, I really had to use the bathroom! Loud rock music blasted through the house as I rushed through the door, dropped my schoolbag in the living room and bolted up the stairs. ’Mom must be cleaning…’ I thought. Dancing around like an idiot, glad that no one could see me, I grabbed the door handle, turned it and swung it open.

There was my mom with one leg up on the vanity counter, one hand braced against the mirror as my boyfriend pummeled into her from behind. My eyes widened and while you may think that at that moment, I was at my worst—I wasn’t. The shock of seeing the man I loved fucking my mother was too much for me. I couldn’t hold it, I pooped myself right there.

Ironically enough, the only thing my ex boyfriend could say was, “Holy shit!” I guess you could say we broke up because of irreconcilable differences.