TMI Thursday: My first and (not quite) last

***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

As an Era of Ultimate-Gross-Outs ends, I feel the need to share a little tidbit of my TMI with you all. CAUTION: IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH. RUN. I SHARE. OPENLY AND WITHOUT DISCRETION. MUAHAHAHAHAHA

My first thought was, “Where to begin?” Should I tell the couple pooping story? Should I talk about the time we both had the stomach flu with one bathroom? Should I give up my first Golden Shower story? Do I dare go with the anal? Hmm? Warning to my lovelies: you may be scared of me after this. I apologize in advance, but DAMMIT, I HAVE to! 

So, I’m giving you a childhood story of humor, pee, and innocence. 

I think I was 8 or 9 years old the Summer my family went to Larch Mountain. We went every Summer, but this particular year, I got to take my friend, Heather, with me! Oh joy of all joys.  I was an only child, so as you can imagine, I spent quite a bit of time alone. Reading. Or playing with imaginary friends. No. I’m not crazy. Shut up. We ditched my parentals, and to this day, I’m not sure what the Hell they were doing while this was going on? Anywho…we hiked…up to the top of the mountain/hill/to the look-out point. Whatever. Inconsequential.

Of course, by the time we reached the top, little-ole-me had to pee. Bad. What? I was a kid. My bladder was tiny! I’d probably had a million sodas on the way. Needless to say, there’s no port-o-potty at the top, so Heather and I RAN heels-bells down the mountain until we reached the parking area which contained a port-o-potty. I did not quite make it.

You guessed it: I peed my pants. I remember they were blue cotton. It was noticeably, not to mention stinky and uncomfortable. Ew. So, heather and I, being the brilliant, overachievers we were, made up a story to explain the now drenched crotch of my pants. We told my parents with doe-like eyes, that we’d done the splits in a mud puddle. I shit you not. My best friend actually peed her pants too, so I wouldn’t be alone in my humiliation! (You’re thinking of that Adam Sandler movie now, I know.) “All the cool kids pee their pants!”

My parents didn’t buy it. Duh. Their freaking geniuses, and that is just silly. Or funny.  However, they said nothing about it at the time. Of course later on, my Mother brought it up in front of my (then) fiance. Ouch. Thanks Mom. Love ya!

So there you have it. My first TMIT, but probably not my last. I have stories, man! Poor Heather features in another, but we’ll get into that later.



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