Last week, I told you about the time I peed my pants while folding the American flag. (Graceful, eh?) This week, my story is similar. Another pee-in-the-pants story. (I promise, I only peed my pants these two times! …I think.)

When I was growing up, Dad was a truck driver. For a little while, he drove a gas tanker locally, but then he got a job delivering stuff all over the country. I begged him to let me go with him once, and before the summer ended, he let my sister and I ride with him on a trip. It wasn’t very far, but it was far enough to get excited.

Dad drove one of those big trucks with the huge cab (it had a bunk bed in it!), and when we slept at night, my sister and I got the top bunk and Dad got the bottom. One night, while we were at a truck stop, I woke up with the serious urge to pee. Back then, Dad was a heavy sleeper, so even though I was practically slapping him in the face, he wouldn’t budge. I thought, maybe I’ll just go outside and squat.

I made my way to the front of the cab, and peeked out the curtains (yeah, the windows all had awesome curtains for privacy), and I saw a man walking around. It was like two in the morning, people! I was creeped out. There was no way I was going to get out of that truck and squat with some creepy man walking around.

After several attempts of trying to wake Dad up again, I became frustrated. I sat on the passenger seat in the front of the cab, trying to hold it. I was in tears by this point. Finally, I just let it out. Right on the seat. Ah, relief.

After that … Well, I’m pretty sure I changed my clothes (though I can’t really remember that part–let’s just hope I did) and went back to bed. I’m not sure if Dad even knew what had happened because I can’t recall him ever saying anything about it.

I’m not gonna lie; I’m pretty terrified of TMI Thursday. I love reading them, but when it comes to maybe writing my own? I hide. Not only that, but I can never think of anything extremely bad (that I’d want to share, anyway. Hey, let me warm up to the idea, okay?), so I guess we’ll start with mild. Extremely mild although still embarassing.

When I was in fourth grade, I was a member of the safety patrol at school. Yeah, I was that awesome. We’d get to stand in  the hallways, tell kids to stop running, and go to class five minutes later than everyone else. (Yeah, we got out five minutes early so that we could take our positions, as well. How freakin’ cool was I?!) I mean, we had these orange belts (they looked like seat belts, wrapping around our waist and across our chest) with a shiny, silver badge on them. We even had meetings, and we were let in on a little secret: those cameras on the school buses? Yeah, they were RARELY ever really on. I just felt so awesome.

The (totally awesome) safety patrol had several “duties,” but there was one that I just couldn’t wait for:  taking down and folding the American flag every afternoon. It seemed like everyone had a turn, and finally it was my week. They alway chose two people to do it (our little, tiny bodies couldn’t handle that giant flag), and during my week, my boyfriend got picked too. We were stoked. (I’m pretty sure he’s gay now, though.)

I remember one day in particular. We were due to fold the flag, so we left class a few minutes before the final bell to make our way to the front of the school. I really had to pee, but dangit (!), I had to fold that flag before I missed the bus. Of course, “boyfriend” took forever getting the flag down. Once it was down, though, we started folding. By this point, I really had to go. You know that feeling. I mean, I was trying to casually cross my legs and everything. Yeah, it didn’t work. I peed my pants. While folding the American flag. With my boyfriend right there. Wearing my totally cool safety belt.

Even though my boyfriend didn’t notice anything, I was still embarassed (though completely relieved). Luckily, I was wearing a jacket that day, so I quickly wrapped it around my waist. Oh, how cool did I look? Safety belt, jacket around the waist, and pee on my pants.

P.S. Nothing to do with TMI, but make sure you check out Ev’Yan’s advice column Ask Apricot. You can find the question she answered for me here!