My IBS can trump even Jimmy Kimmel...

So one of the things we were really looking forward to in California was going to the Jimmy Kimmel show. He is my favorite nighttime talk show host. The three of us were dressed in bright colors with nice scarves so that we would get picked to sit down in front. We had everything planned out, we had our tickets, our outfits, our hair and makeup, you name it, nothing could get screwed up. Except of course, my secret internal archenemy, my intestinal tract. It always seems to know just when to start acting up. I think it's been having a discussion with my teenage daughter on how to make my life miserable. Like clockwork, the rumbling started when we were waiting to go through the first security check. I tried to convince the skeptical lady that the fog horn she heard was my new cellphone ring tone, but she definitely wasn't buying it. When we were seated in the row right behind the cameraman, it was just so exciting I thought I would explode, and so did my descending colon. I think I must have burned a Zumba class worth of calories just squirming in my seat. I'm sure the guy sitting next to me thought I had some kind of undiagnosed central nervous system problem. It really was fun, and we made it through the 90 minute taping unscathed.  Next time we go I plan to sit closer to the band because maybe they'll think it's the trumpet they hear instead of my stomach.