I just read a blog of a very funny woman. I've been stalking it and commenting occasionally, so it isn't true stalking. She lives outside London with her partner and two kids and she is totally British in her humor. She relayed a story of being in nursery school and so adamant about not decorating the tree that she stayed in a corner and peed herself. This reminded me of one of my pee stories. Yes, there are more.
I can remember a few events in kindergarten that stand out, mostly, because I got in trouble. The first time was when I locked my sister in the play oven. The second time was when I was unable to nap on my rug with the rest of the class, so I took off my shoes and slid across the floor in my socks. I suppose this kept the others from sleeping, so I was back in the corner, again. The third time isn't memorable because I got in trouble, but more of a close one.
We would have music sessions occasionally and one day, Mr. Guitar Man came to play. I remember having to pee and waiting until a song was finished. Then I really had to pee and just as I raised my hand, Mr. Guitar Man asked for a volunteer. He called on me and I was confused. Should I say no, I have to pee, or should I go up with him, because it was so dang special to be with Mr. GM. I went up front thinking I could hold on. Mr GM wanted me to hold his guitar while he played an accordion. How cool is that? I panicked because I didn't think I could hold it but I nonchalantly placed the guitar in front of me and slowly let go. It was such a relief, I just didn't care. My little red woolly tights filled with moisture and spilled into my shoes and onto the floor, but I didn't move. When the pumping of the accordion was over, he took the guitar back and I carefully sat down in my wee (pun intended) chair. Just then, Mr. Guitar/Accordion Man, noticed the small puddle on the floor. He told Mrs. Weldon, my teacher, and they spent time looking at the ceiling tiles. She had one of my classmates clean up the "water" and it was a boy I didn't like, so I laughed a little.
Sitting in a pool of one's own pee is not comfortable. I remember being cold and thinking maybe I could take off the sodden tights, but I knew that everyone would know what I did, so I just suffered. Fortunately, we didn't do anything more that day requiring much action. The two blocks walking home was terrible and I quickly changed my clothes. My mom never noticed anything, so I figured I was safe.
The next day, a janitor came into our classroom and got up a a huge ladder to check the ceiling. He was there for a long time and then left. We next heard someone on the roof (in the pouring rain) for some time. I don't remember what resulted, but I was so glad that nobody knew it was me, the real reason for the ceiling leak.
Years later, I relayed the story to my friends and family and still marvel at how nobody realized I was a big pee puddle in kindergarten. I think it explains my preference to wear woolly tights when presented with unfamiliar social situations.
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