I remember it very well. I was just a child in first grade. I was a cool kid. I spent my first grade years impressing women with my strength by lifting their desks, constructing log cabins with pretzels on construction paper and being an unstoppable force in checkers. I had it all.
That day I had to pee. So pee I did. I raised my hand like any upstanding gentleman and asked my teacher if I could go to the bathroom. She said, and I quote, “No.” I couldn’t believe my ears. I have never heard the word “No.” I was undefeated in checkers, maybe she didn’t know. I knew I had to pee. I had to pee so bad my knees were shaking. I could barely focus on my math speed drills.
The teacher in all of her unstoppable, tyrannical power had already said “No.” There was no changing her mind. She knew what she was doing. She couldn’t wait to tell kids no so they could pee their pants. Despicable. I was panicking now. Contemplating peeing in my pants. Would the other kids see the pee stain in my khakis? Yes. It is very obvious when khakis have been peed in. I looked down, and let it go. It was such a relief. But after those sweet and glorious 30 seconds were over I was left with a puddle in my pants and a giant wet spot.
Time passed and my teacher came up to me and whispered in my ear, “Why didn’t you tell me it was an emergency?” Really, teach? Has a first grader ever had to pee without it being an emergency? Of course not. I was in the early stages of procrastination. I waited to the last minute to do things, including asking to pee. So when I had to pee, I had to pee. She tried to get me to wear some extra pants she had in the room. Forget it teach, your time of redemption is over. You will look at my pee pants, and you will remember this day for all of time. And also I hope some got on your floor and that you have to smell it when it dries.
I devised a clever plan to get me out of the room without the other kids noticing. I walked straight towards the chalkboard and was standing inches away from it pretending to read as I shuffled over towards my backpack. Once I got my backpack I wore it in the front. In addition to checkers champion, I was also a trend setter. An impressive resume. I walked through the halls with what could now be considered a frontpack and my grandma picked me up from school. I got to her house where I had a set of “play” clothes to wear. I changed into the dry pants. As I was stepping out of the door to go play, my grandma picked up my pee pants and said, “Kyle, why are your pants wet!?” I ran out the door without an explanation and satisfied that only my teacher and my grandma were in the know. It was a good day.