embarassed

Have you ever sh*t your pants? Right before you got into the house? Like your body knows it's almost there and wants to make you suffer.

It's so warm and gooey, and ends up dripping down your leg. Has that happened to you?

The first time I made a number 2 in my pants was in grade school. Everybody laughed. It was right after the breakfast they gave us at our desks in the morning.

I don't like telling this story again.  I felt embarrassed. Obviously.

The muffins that morning were as hard as stones and most of the kids threw theirs. I never liked food fights. The smell always stuck to me.

Some of the kids swore they saw me do it right in my seat, but I'd had my hand up desperately to use the bathroom, and I felt like I was holding it in right up til I got to the classroom door. I felt it take up space that wasn't there, and then the drip down the leg.

I don't want to be descriptive. 

They called my home to have someone bring me a change of clothes and sent me to the gym locker room to take a shower. I turned my pants inside out and set them down on one of those benches just outside the shower area but not yet at the lockers. I hung my boxers up on the faucet, hoping to save them. The kids blamed me for getting gym canceled, but a couple of them were grateful.

I washed off as best I could, it had started to cake, and then stood there facing the entry. I didn't have a towel. The gym teacher told me to turn around because it wasn't dignified.

I stood there with my bare ass more than an hour before one of the old secretaries from the main office came to tell the gym teacher no one from my house had arrived yet 

He told me to wipe the pants the best I could under the faucet carefully to not get them too wet and then put them on and go to the nurse's office. I asked about my boxers, I thought I could salvage them. Commando, he said. I didn't know what that meant until much later.

When I blurted out that a gym teacher had told me to "go commando" the first time I learned what it meant they gave me concerned looks. I never like concerned looks.

The gym teacher told me to get dressed in the pants and go to wait outside by the field a bit away from the school building for the smell, enough gym had been missed. Then the secretary came back and yelled at him. She told me to go to the nurse's office.  

 I told her I wasn't sick and the gym teacher asked me if I was sure about that. I told him my stomach felt fine and he laughed.

The nurse tried to make me feel better and said things happen, but also said a hard muffin wouldn't cause something like that. 

Eventually my sister showed up with a change of clothes, but they weren't clean. At least I recognized them as coming from the top of the laundry pile in the corner of the room me, my sister and my younger foster brother shared. 

-I tried my best, I'm sorry, she said. They'd sent her up to the nurse's office. Can  I just take him home?

The nurse wasn't sure about that and called down to the office to ask the principal to come up, but he told the secretary to tell the nurse to tell me to just go home. 

It was the first time my sister acted like a guardian with someone official about me.

We weren't related, but my sister aged out of the home while I was still there, and when I got moved again she made sure to follow me and keep track of me. She helped me eventually find a foster home to get through high school. She said she had always wanted to adopt me herself but it just wasn't something either one of us was capable of.

Fortunately I never messed my pants like that at school again, so the Smelly nickname didn't stick with so many people, but it's happened enough times that I couldn't count. Once I felt like I exploded all over a bathroom wall. I wondered for weeks what a custodian would say. I'd like to the building where the bathroom was shamefully whenever I passed.

It always feels like you're gonna make it until you're close enough to the bathroom to know you're not and there's not any other possible option left. Your body just gives up. It's not trying to make you suffer. Holding it in is the suffering.

The last time it happened was a few months ago. I'd eaten really well and I couldn't make it back home. I stopped and clenched my cheeks to stop it but that was no use so I just gave up and let it take up the space in my pants that wasn't there for it.

Sometimes it's better not to eat at all. Having just a little bit can make you hungrier for more. Have some water.