Territorial Pissings

I was in first grade with a kid named Bryan. When there was a fire drill he would cry. He used to take his pants off to pee at the urinal. He always backed away from the urinal to see how far he could go before he missed and wet the floor. He used to stand up and yell “I have to go number one!” The teacher always let him go.

In second grade I wet my pants. I sat there for an hour or so in pee pants because I was too embarrassed to say anything. Mrs. Lynn said no one goes to the bathroom unless it’s an emergency. The girl that sat next to me kept looking over at me making this scrunchy nosed face. She knew.

The recess bell rang. I waited till everybody left before I got up. I told Mrs. Lynn what happened. She walked me to the office. I had to call my mom to bring me new clothes. I sat around for another half hour waiting for her to show up. When she did I was relieved that she didn’t yell at me. She just handed the nurse some clean underwear and a pair of pants. I changed and went back to class.

I told everyone I slipped in the boy’s room and landed in a puddle of pee. I don’t think they bought it.



One year later, I did the same thing.