by Roger

When I was about four, Mom and I were shopping in Bemidji when I had an accident that no mother wants to deal with.  And I guess I must have sensed that, because I didn't tell her about it.  (I'd "filled by pants" as they used to say.)   So I just went through the rest of the day with it.

That night, Mom, Dad and I shared a second floor bedroom at the Paulson farm.   When I changed into my pajamas, I stashed my underpants under my jeans on the floor.  But mom smelled something funny and investigated.  I was already in bed, and I heard her reaction of despair and disgust.  Then she said something to the effect of "Oh no.. the underwear is full of poop."

I said, "Whose is it?"

(Mom didn't answer.  Maybe she thought it was a rhetorical question.)

That's one incident Mom never reminded me of.  I wish I'd thought to bring it up.  It would have been fun to let Mom know that I'd remembered what I'd said.

<-- back to roger stories index

<--back to additions index