The Time I Peed My Pants

The Time I Peed My PantsSo this is from a series of short stories and essays I’ve been working on. I thought it was pretty funny and wanted to share, plus it has been an embarrassingly long time since I last posted. So here you go. Enjoy!

———–

We’ve all done it. The dreaded peeing in the pants and being that little bit too old to really get away with it. I would like to preface this story by saying I have never peed my pants or wet the bed as an adult, not even drunk. Points for me :) *Sometimes* I get a little too excited, jump up and down or have been hit SO HARD playing derby that a little pee has been known to escape, but never a full blown accident.

My story goes like this,  the school bus had just dropped me off. I remember squirming around in my seat on the bus in my new teal jeans already feeling like my pee dam was overflowing – why did I not go at school? I was probably going to miss the bus and had to just book it. I had carefully formulated my plan on the bus to bolt home, without being too obvious, and peeing my precious 12-year-old heart out  . . . it was going to be awesome.  Part of the issue was that the bus stop was just over a quarter mile from my house so it was going to be a trek and I was not into moving too fast at that age.

I stepped off the bus, said my goodbyes and subtly worked my fast paced walk into a run. I was gonna make it, not a doubt in my mind. I tightened the straps of my loosely hanging backpack to help with the awkward jostling of my stride. I passed my street sign and turned right . . . past the creepy house with the DJ van for the guy that worked at the skating rink . . . past the creek entrance . . . this was going to happen. Almost there. Twelve-year-olds don’t pee their pants, right? I thought to myself.

I saw the top of the tree that was in my front yard and started pulling my keys out of my bag. Still running . . . I ran past my adult neighbor who tried to say hi to me but was probably so dumbfounded at the sight of me running she did not try again. I ran across my lawn and up the porch steps, slammed the key into the deadbolt and swung open the door gasping for breath. At this point I should note I was whisper chanting “I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make it!” over and over. I slammed the door behind me and bee-lined for the bathroom.

I dropped my backpack in the middle of the hall and jumped into the bathroom. I unbuttoned my jeans, just mere seconds from pee-dom bliss and I started to pull on the zipper. SHIT! The zipper stuck. I started to sweat pulling and yanking at the little metal zipper pull-tab in a furry. Stuck.

And there it happened. I started to pee standing right next to the toilet. At first I tried to fight it, but it was too late. I let go. I started laughing as I felt the warm pee run down my legs. It was funny, plus no one was home to catch me.

After about what felt like five minutes of straight peeing I got a towel and cleaned the floor and patted my self down. I remember I looked down at the zipper of my new pants and tried one last time to get it down and it went down with no issue. Seriously? WTF?! I don’t think I ever wore those pants again. They were my shame-pants, the evidence of my accident. Plus, I sorta felt like they could not be trusted after that.

Comments
One Response to “The Time I Peed My Pants”
  1. Mean pants. They were probably ploting against you.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

  • Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

    Join 13 other followers

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

%d bloggers like this: