TMI Thursday: How Old Is Too Old To Pee Your Pants?

As Lilu says, “Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!”

I peed my pants when I was 17 years old. Yes, seventeen.

Here’s how:

The scene (once again) begins with my mom, my sister, and I sitting around the dinner table like any other night. This particular evening was boring, nothing really to talk about, so all three of us were quiet.

Nothing but the sounds of breathing, chewing, and the sporadic screech of a fork accidentally grazing the plate.

Then out of nowhere, my sister looks curiously at my mom and says “what?” As if my mom had said something. Except she hadn’t. So my mom and I look at each other, then back at my sister, in utter bewilderment. Was she responding to the voices inside her head? My mom gets out “I didn’t say anythi…” before her fit of laughter starts. And we in turn bust out in uncontrollable giggly laughter. It wasn’t even that funny, but for some reason it just tickled my funny bone and I could not stop cracking up.

Which is when it happened. I tried to stop it. With all my might I tried. But I couldn’t.

Sometimes I laugh really, really hard. And occasionally during these hard laughing fits, my bladder is full. A recipe for disaster, I know, but how could I have predicted such hilarity would ensue that seemingly banal night? I was unprepared.

I try running as fast as I can to reach the toilet in time, but alas I realize too late — urine has already flooded my pants. Damn. The laughter from my mother and sister escalates exponentially at the sight. All I can think is, Really? How old am I? Then the cherry on top: my dad calls at that moment to check in. Breathless from laughing, my mom tries to explain what just happened. But then how could she? There are no words…