The Rehearsal

It was a beautiful night on the night of David and Aimee’s wedding. There was smoking, drinking, and even the odd fuck in the upstairs rooms of the Boulevard Hotel. Mostly there was talk of Aimee’s first husband, Chuck, who had died in a freak truck accident the previous year. But somehow, mysterious as it is, Aimee ended up finding David on the day of Chuck’s death. She was sad, yet enchanted that she had a new man so soon and was almost positive that she would spend the rest of her life with him.

“Oh! Cally! Do I look alright?” Aimee asked her best friend.

“I so wish I were you! You look so beautiful!” Cally replied.

“Why do you guys care so much about this wedding? Its only going to last, like three days!” David’s sister, Shauna protested.

“Shauna! How dare you say that! That’s so mean!” Cally told her.

“Where are my three flower girls and the ring bearer?” Aimee inquired in a stressed voice.

“Uh, I didn’t think they were coming,” Cally replied.

“…But I told them to come for the rehearsal! How dare they not come?” Aimee cried.

“Did someone say flower girls?” Julie, the mother of two of the little girls asked as she walked in.

“Oh! Thank goodness you’re here! I was about to give up on it!” Aimee cried with thankfulness.

“I’m sorry we’re late,” Julie said. Aimee smiled as she looked down on the two flower girls, Antoinette and Theodora. She decided not to start the rehearsal until Jerome showed up with Teresa (her third flower girl), Jayne showed up with Nick (her ring bearer) and her second bride’s maid.

“Hey, Aimee! We’re here!” Jayne cried, as she ran toward Aimee, who was her sister, by the way and they hugged each other.

“What about us?” Jerome said, right on cue. He was holding his daughter, Teresa. Then, Olivia (her second bride’s maid) quietly slipped in.

“Excellent!” Aimee squealed, “Now we can start!”

“I have to…” Nick began, but no one heard.

“Now, first, Antoinette, you walk down the aisle, okay? Then Theo follows after she is half way down the aisle, then Teresa, you can go when Theo is half way down the aisle. Then, when Teresa is at the end of the aisle, Olivia can come, and after her, Shauna, and then Cally, then, I go, and finally Nick goes. Got it?” Aimee explained.

“Uh huh,” everyone replied. Then the music began to play.

“Antoinette! Go, now, please,” urged Aimee, then Theo, Teresa, Olivia, Shauna, Cally and Aimee went. Then it was Nick’s turn. He was sweating and he was afraid. He also had to go to the washroom quite badly and the fright made it worse. But Nick went down the aisle as fast as possible.

“Nick! Not so fast! Please go back and do it again!” Aimee told him. So he did, but he still had to go to the washroom, just as badly, if not worse. So little Nick scrunched his legs together and tried his best to hold the urine in while walking. And that was difficult because he had had a lot of sodas that day. Nick began walking, or what seemed to be walking, down the aisle of a sort of doom, for when Nick got to the middle, he just couldn’t hold it in anymore. He dropped the pillow and grabbed his penis instead. Then he crouched down on the ground, with his legs crossed over each other and his hands holding and began to wet his pants.

“I peed my pants!” Nick sobbed.

Aimee stared angrily at her ring bearer. “Now we’ll have to do it all over again, damn it!”

“Nicholas Dillon James Wilson! Do you know how much we paid for that tuxedo?! Do you know how much it will cost to get that dry-cleaned?!!” his mother shouted.

Nick started to cry as his mother continued to yell at him. He was so embarrassed!

“After this rehearsal we’re going straight home and you’re going to think about what you’ve done! Honestly, ruining an important rehearsal like this!”

The little boy wiped the tears from his eyes and went back to the starting place.

They rehearsed for about two hours, and then it was time to go home.

Jayne grabbed her son’s hand firmly and dragged him out to the station wagon. “Don’t sit on the seats! I’ll get you a towel. I can’t have you ruining my nice new car!”

The small boy sighed heavily and tried to hold back his tears. He couldn’t figure out why his mother was so cruel to him. It wasn’t his fault! …Was it?

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The Christmas Concert

“Oh, don’t you look sweet Timmy?” said Carolyn as she flattened out his little suit for the Christmas concert. “My little man…”

“Carolyn, it’s time to go!” Doug called from the next room.

Carolyn grabbed Timmy’s hand and pulled him out to the car. She didn’t even ask if he needed to go potty. She was too busy and they were going to be late! They buckled him into the car and sped off to the school where the annual concert would be held. This was Timmy’s first one and Carolyn and Doug wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Carolyn looked back at her five-year-old son and smiled at him, “You’re going to be great sweet heart,” she told him. Even though he would only be standing there singing off-key like the rest of the kids, she felt the need to recognize his bravery. She wouldn’t be caught dead singing in front of an audience, even if it was with a choir.

Timmy was wiggling in the back seat, fiddling with his jacket. “You nervous, bud?” Carolyn asked.

The boy shrugged and continued to wiggle. He wasn’t much for talking.

When they finally got to the school, they sent Timmy off to his classroom and grabbed a seat near the front. Doug took out the video camera and turned it on to check that it was working. The other parents were doing the same thing. Carolyn smiled, “Oh Doug, I’m so excited! Timmy’s going to be great.”

“Mhm,” Doug replied, fiddling with the camera.

Then the kids came out on stage. The kindergarten class was large this year, but Timmy was visible in his spot at the centre of the front row. The teacher smiled and stepped up to the microphone. Her name was Miss McTavish, a skinny little lady from the south. Doug had a slight attraction to her, though he could never tell his wife. The young teacher spoke in a disguised accent, “Welcome to the Handler Memorial Elementary Kindergarten Christmas Concert! We’re going to be singing some classics, some modern, some religious, and some secular tunes, so keep an open mind. Without further ado, we’ll start with Jingle Bells!” The piano chimed; it was out of tune, though it didn’t matter for most of the children couldn’t sing well enough to understand.

Carolyn smiled as she watched her nervous little boy sway back and forth as he sang Jingle Bells with his hands in his pockets. “He’s looking quite nervous,” whispered Carolyn.

“Mhm,” Doug replied, zooming in on Miss McTavish’s breasts.

Jingle Bells ended swiftly and they were onto Up on the Housetop. Timmy was getting more and more fidgety. He looked uncomfortable. “Do you suppose that suit was too small for him?”

“I don’t know, Carolyn. He’s probably just freaked out with all these people looking at him.”

“Oh shit…”

“What?” Doug asked, pulling away from the camera.

“I forgot to take him to the bathroom before we came.”

“You think he’s got to go?”

“Damn! We can’t just grab him, can we?”

Doug shrugged, “Let’s just wait. If he gets desperate we’ll grab him.”

“But what if he has an accident up there?”

“He won’t, Carolyn.”

The two continued to watch their son dance and wiggle along to Silent Night and then Heron Carol. Little Timmy was getting anxious. He was squeezing his legs together and getting right into the ‘pee-pee dance’. Then he stuffed his hand down his pants and held his crotch tightly.

“Oh Doug, look at him! He’s going to pee his pants!” Carolyn got up and grabbed her son, rushing him out of the auditorium.

“Mommy I have to go pee-pee! I have to go really bad, right now!”

“It’s going to be okay sweetie, just hold it a little longer.”

“Mommy I really really have to go!”

Down the corridor, Carolyn saw the door to the washroom. She burst through the door of the boys’ room. All stalls were occupied, so she hurriedly tried to pull down Timmy’s pants. “Honey I need you to let go for a sec so you can go potty.”

Timmy whimpered, removing his hand. He started dancing again; a feeble attempt at staying dry. “Hurry Mommy!” he whimpered,”I can’t hold it anymore!”

Carolyn pulled down her son’s pants, revealing his suddenly soaked underwear. Timmy began to cry as the pee ran down his legs, drenching his shoes, socks, and dress pants.

The First Day of School

It was Garfield’s first day of grade two and he was about to start a new school on the fancier side of town. Mummy had just married Dallas, who was a lawyer and had a lovely home for them to live in that looked out over the sea. Garfield liked it much better now that he didn’t have to share a bed with Mummy. He had a whole room to himself and toys spread all over the floor. Garf had spent the whole summer exploring the yard and playing with all the new toys Dallas had generously bought for him. Dallas offered to sign his step-son up for t-ball and soccer, but Garf wasn’t much for team sports. He was more of an imaginative, bookish loner. Dallas didn’t fully understand Garf’s shyness, but he accepted the boy without an argument.

“Are you ready for your first day, Garfie?” Mummy called, cheerfully. Garf could tell that she had already broken into the champagne. He remembered a time when every day wasn’t a celebration and she never touched things like champagne.

“Yeah,” he replied, shakily. He had butterflies in his tummy. What if the other kids didn’t like him? What if nobody wanted to be friends? What if the school work was too hard and everyone was way smarter than him? He dawdled and gripped the banister tightly as he made his way to the bottom floor.

“Come on, Garfie, we’re gonna be late!”

Garfield’s tummy grumbled. He could feel the orange juice and fried eggs he’d had for breakfast angrily sloshing around in there, but he said nothing. He knew Mummy had work today and couldn’t look after him at home if he felt sick.

“There’s my handsome boy! Are you excited for school, sweetheart?”

Garf stared at his shoes shyly.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetie. I know it’s hard making new friends but I know you’ll do great. And I know you’re nervous, but just take it one step at a time. Focus on breathing. You’re fine.” Mummy gave Garf a big hug. “I love you, sweetheart.”

When they got into the car, Garf still wasn’t feeling great. He closed his eyes and tried to think of happy times, like reading a story with Mummy or finding cool places to drive his trucks in the yard, but nothing worked. Garf tried breathing for a little while too, but the butterflies wouldn’t cease. “Mummy…”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“Mummy I don’t feel very good…”

“We’re almost there, but we’ve got time to stop.” Mummy pulled over the van to the side of the road. There were lots of kids with backpacks walking to school. Garfield opened the door of the van and let in some fresh air. His tummy felt a little better, but he still felt nauseous. Mummy came around and picked him up out of the seat. “Let’s sit down for a little while. We’ve got time before we need to find your classroom.”

Garf sat on Mummy’s knee and she stroked his hair for a little while. He snuggled in closer to Mummy. His tummy wasn’t feeling much better, but maybe a cuddle would help if nothing else. Mummy felt his forehead, but he didn’t have a fever; it was just nerves and carsickness.

“Looks like you’re not coming down with anything. I think you’re just a bit carsick,” Mummy said. “Does your tummy feel a little better?”

Garf snuggled closer.

“Come on, sweetheart. I don’t want you to be late…”

“Okay Mummy,” Garf weakly mumbled. He got up from her lap and promptly threw up his breakfast onto the sidewalk. Thankfully he was far enough away from the kids walking to school that nobody saw.

“Garfie! Are you okay?” She took a kleenex from her purse and wiped the excess vomit from his mouth. Tears of embarrassment were running down his face.

Garf shook his head and went in for another hug. “I’m scared of school and I don’t feel good!”

“I know, I know,” Mummy replied. “Sometimes we have to do things that are a bit scary and sometimes we get so scared that we feel a bit sick, bit it’s all going to be okay. I promise. Today’s a short day too. I’ll be back for you before you even know it!” She buckled him in and they drove the rest of the way to school in silence.

When they got to the school, Garf was feeling a lot better. He was ready to conquer the day and make new friends. He held Mummy’s hand and they asked the office ladies where Mrs. Byron’s grade 2 class was. They were both slow and old and their hair looked like noodles tied up in buns atop their wrinkly heads. Garfield definitely felt a little scared of them at first, but they were nice enough. Mummy guided him down the hallway and squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry,” she whispered.

The hallway felt big and Garf felt very small in comparison with all of the other kids and teachers. He wondered if anyone had ever gotten lost in this school. He wondered if any kids had gotten so lost that nobody ever found them. That gave him shivers and with those shivers came the sudden, but strong urge to pee. He scrunched his legs together and walked a little slower.

“You don’t need to be nervous, honey. Nobody’s going to be mean to you here,” Mummy said.

“I… I know,” Garf stuttered. He was concentrating on holding, and also looking for a boy’s room. He saw one for girls at the end of the hall, but no such luck. He wondered if he could hold it until he met his new teacher.

“Here’s your classroom, sweetheart. I’ve got to head to work. Just remember, be yourself today. I love you!” Mummy told him and gave him a hug. Garf hugged back and quickly readjusted his legs as the urge to go became stronger still.

“I love you too, Mummy.” Garf walked into the classroom and looked up at his very tall, red-headed teacher.

“Hello there!” she knelt down next to him, “I’m Mrs. Byron… and you must be Garfield.”

Garf danced from foot to foot, trying to calm his bladder. “Mm-hmm.”

“You can put your bag in the cloakroom on the hook that has your name written above it… and then over there next to the blonde, curly-haired boy is your desk!”

“Th-thanks,” Garf whispered almost inaudibly.

“It’s okay to be a bit shy on your first day, Garfield. But the kids in this class are very kind and I know they’ll want to meet you.”

Garf nodded and half-smiled. He was more worried about making it to the bathroom on time than making any new friends. He hung up his coat and backpack underneath his name and then squeezed his privates, trying his hardest not to let loose. When he came out of the cloak room, he went up to Mrs. Byron, trying to get the courage to ask for the bathroom, but immediately, the room fell silent and he was wiggling at the front of the class next to the teacher.

“Class, this is our new student, Garfield. He’s just transferred from Southgate and he probably would like some new friends to play with at recess. Garfield, what do you like to play?”

Garf wiggled and danced from foot to foot. He was in full pee-pee dance. “I, um, I like to play… trucks. And I like, um, hide and seek, and, um, lots of games I guess,” he mumbled. He kept wiggling and dancing. He didn’t want to ask for the bathroom in front of the whole class.

“You may take your seat, Garfield. We’re going to do some quick math questions.” Mrs. Byron handed out addition sheets starting with the row farthest from Garf’s seat. He was really wiggling now. He could feel himself losing the battle. Both of his hands were in his crotch, holding on for as long as he could. He was getting so worried about peeing his pants that he considered just running down the hallway to the girl’s room. When Mrs. Byron got to Garf’s seat, she lay the paper on his desk and very quietly asked, “do you need to use the restroom?”

Garf nodded sheepishly and Mrs. Byron gave him the pass.

“It’s down the hallway and past the office on the left side. And if you need to go, just ask before it’s too late,” Mrs. Byron smiled.

Garf could barely get out of his seat. He held himself as he sauntered out of the classroom and down the hall past the office. He could feel his grip slipping a bit and a little bit of pee seeped into his undies. But that was okay. When he got to the bathroom, the stalls were all taken and there were only urinals. Garf had never used one before and he was scared. On the verge of peeing his pants, he decided to try it only to find that he was clenched too tight to pull them down. Garf kept dancing and holding, trying to find a way to pull his jeans down without peeing everywhere. He could feel the pressure building and building and he was running out of time. He let a little more pee out into his undies, this time by accident. He held his crotch tighter, but couldn’t loosen his jeans at all.

Garf had an idea. He undid his button and the fly of his jeans and reached to pull out his wiener, but there was no hole in his new undies… and it was too late. He started going and he couldn’t stop the flow. His pee leaked through his new undies and into his jeans, all down the middle of his legs and into his socks. He just kept going. Garf was shocked. He didn’t know what to do or where to go. He just sat on the bathroom floor crying in wet pants.

Carrie, Terry, and Judith

“I have to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW!” Judith demanded. She was squished between Terry and I and neither of us could tell she had been scrunching her legs together for the last few hours in our parents’ station wagon.

Mom had bought our little sister a ginger ale in hopes it would calm her stomach on the windy road to the beach… but that had obviously backfired.

“There’s a pull out in about a mile. Can you hold it for a few more minutes, Jude?” asked Dad.

She whimpered a little and scrunched herself up smaller than I thought possible for a seven year old. Terry and I were nine and despite being twins, neither of us had ever been as thin or sickly looking as Judith.

“It’s ok. You can make it,” I told Judith.

“I have to go really bad,” she whispered, shaking hands gripping the crotch of her overall shorts.

“Just think about something else,” I chimed, “Like that song you like from Mary Poppins or what we’re gonna do at the beach or…”

“Waterfalls! Or streams! Or toilets! Or the sound of…” Terry made a terrible hissing sound with his tongue, akin to a stream of uncontrollable urine.

“Stop! That’s not funny, Terry!” I shouted.

“Whatever, Carrie.” He rolled his eyes. My twin brother was constantly poking fun at Judith, be it her need to go or her weak stomach or her squeamish, girly fear of insects.

Judith squeezed her legs together. “Daddy… how much longer?” She meekly queried.

“Not too much. Just a coupe of minutes. You can hold it.”

I stroked Judith’s blonde hair and asked if she wanted to eat hot dogs or ham burgers tonight.

She didn’t reply; she was too focussed on holding. I watched her close her eyes and bite her bottom lip.

“We’re almost there, Jude. Almost there!” Dad reassured.

All of a sudden, the car trembled and we went over a pot hole. Terry dropped the dinosaur book he was reading. I nearly jumped out of my seat. Judith fell silent until I heard her burst into tears. “Daddy!” She blubbered. Her dress and leggings were soaked with urine and it was still dribbling out through her shaking legs.

Responsibilities

Avery Chisholm had just turned seventeen. She was a responsible and somewhat bookish young lady and the eldest of three children. Her younger half-brother, Presley, was less than a year her junior and he resented that Avery was considered the oldest and the most responsible. He blatantly refused to care for their youngest half-brother, Cody, who was only five.

Their mother, Kat, was a single mother who had fallen on hard times since Cody’s father had left the family to pursue a mail order bride in Tampa. Though Cody’s father had paid off the house, Kat was rarely able to make payments on time for every other bill she had coming in on a meager cashier’s salary.

Avery worked part-time at the video store and babysat her youngest brother when their mother worked weekends. She didn’t mind so much; Cody was easier to handle than Presley… and he was completely verbal. The only downside was that Cody rarely spoke. Kat was unable to hire a speech pathologist on her wage. Cody’s father, though he had the money, no longer wished to visit his son and only sent child support payments through the mail, which ended up paying for groceries and Christmas gifts most of the time.

Presley and Avery were less fortunate. Kat had given birth to her first child when she was just seventeen and was unable to get child support from Avery’s father at the time. She was no longer in contact with the family either. Presley’s father had attempted suicide shortly after Presley was born. His father had been in and out of the mental health facility for at least sixteen years. Kat managed to marry and divorce the father of her second child within a year.

It was Friday afternoon and Avery had just come home from school to find an empty house. Presley’s backpack was laying on the floor, books pouring out of it – he was already out drinking with his punk friends. There was a note on the round, wooden coffee table that read: “Avery & Presley – please pick up your brother. Had to take another shift at CostMart.” Scrawled in red underneath their mother’s note, Presley had written “FUCK THAT” in capital letters. Avery groaned and set down her backpack. She would have to walk almost all the way back to school to grab Cody. She wished her mom had just phoned the school, but then she remembered their phone had been cut off due to delinquent payments.

On her way back up the road, Avery stopped at the corner store and picked herself and Cody up a soda. She checked her watch: 3:17. Hopefully the kindergarten teacher hadn’t left for the day. She hoped Cody didn’t have them call home to see when Mom was picking him up. Avery was easily embarrassed by the family’s financial situation. She wished her attitude could be more like Presley’s; he seemed to own being poor. He didn’t care what anyone thought. Avery just wanted to be normal. She started running towards the school, hoping desperately that Cody was okay. She ran past the old office and down the hall to the kindergarten class, pushing the door open excitedly. Cody was the only kid still waiting. He was staring intently at a book about dinosaurs.

Mrs. Keefer, who had been teaching kindergarten probably since their mother had gone to school, stood up from her desk. “Avery! You made it.”

“I’m so sorry Mrs. Keefer – I must’ve forgotten it was my turn to pick up Cody-”

“It’s quite alright. Your mother let us know this morning that she may be late to pick him up this afternoon.” Mrs. Keefer smiled sweetly as if she knew Avery’s life story and felt nothing but sympathy for her.

Avery smiled awkwardly, “Let’s go, Code.” She held out her hand for him to grab. “Let’s grab your backpack and coat…”

Cody didn’t even look at her. “Dinosaur,” he said.

“Cody, come on. We have to go home. You can read the dinosaur book when you come back to school on Monday.”

Cody shook his head and stayed put, still reading the book.

Avery groaned. “Please Cody! I have a surprise for you for the walk home.”

Cody didn’t move.

Mrs. Keefer came over and knelt beside Cody. “Cody, you need to listen to your sister. I know how much you like the dinosaur book, so how about you borrow it for the weekend? If you take good care of it, maybe you can keep borrowing the books you like.”

Cody tore his eyes away from the book and nodded happily. “Dinosaur,” he said excitedly, flapping his hands. He followed Avery to his cubby and put on his coat and backpack without a fuss.

“Thank you,” Avery called to Mrs. Keefer. She whispered to Cody, “Say thank you.”

Cody waved at Mrs. Keefer, but stayed silent.

As they walked down the road, Avery handed her little brother a can of cream soda. “Don’t tell Mom about this. I got you this soda from the store. Sorry for picking you up so late…”

Cody smiled, showing all of his teeth.

Avery downed hers pretty quickly and tossed the can into the ditch. She didn’t want her mom to see either empty can. She didn’t want her mom to know she was spending even one dollar on soda. She felt instant regret after drinking it though. Avery hadn’t gone to the bathroom all day and the urge hit her like a brick wall. She pressed her thighs together for a minute but kept walking, picking up the pace ever so slightly.

Cody was lagging behind and when she tried to push him, he just walked slower. He stopped completely for a minute and handed her the empty soda can.

“Done already?” she asked.

Cody nodded and watched his sister chuck it into the ditch.

“Alright, do you wanna race me home?”

Cody shook his head.

“Well, I really need to get home; I have a lot of, uh, homework…” Avery wanted to tell her little brother how desperate she was to go to the bathroom, but then realized how weird that would sound. She doubted he would even care. She winced and crossed one leg over the other, still squeezing her thighs. She released and started walking as fast as she could, but realized Cody wasn’t following. “Come on, Code! We need to get home!” She turned around, beckoning her little brother.

He dragged his feet, slowly catching up to her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, “Are you feeling okay?” Avery pressed on her crotch, hoping to god nothing was leaking out.

Cody shook his head. Avery instantly regretted giving him a sugary soda. He probably had a stomach ache, but Cody would never articulate when he wasn’t feeling well.

“We’ve gotta get home then. You can lay down and I can…” Avery felt another pang of desperation and squeezed herself again, biting her lip. With her other hand, she grabbed Cody’s arm and yanked him down the road. “Come on, we’re almost home.”

It wasn’t even a block before Cody completely stopped. He started whining.

“Cody please! We’re almost there!” Avery was almost bursting; she could feel a whole day’s worth of pee sloshing around inside her.

She looked down at her brother, who was doing a much more obvious potty dance. He looked up at her, holding himself with both hands.

“Do you have to go pee-pee?” Avery squeaked.

Cody looked worried and nodded yes.

“Let’s go. Now!” She grabbed his arm and pulled him all the way home, trying hard not to think about the fact that they only had one bathroom. Avery thought about going in the yard, but could see the Brownstein kids next door playing in their yard; she would have no privacy.

Avery burst through the front door and ran to the bathroom, pulling Cody with one hand and holding herself with the other… but the bathroom door was locked. She could hear loud punk rock blaring from the tinny headphones of Presley’s walkman which lay on the floor outside the bathroom and the faint sound of urine splashing the toilet bowl.

“Presley! Hurry up! Cody really needs to go!” she shouted, banging on the door.

“Fuck off!” Presley called back, “I’m pissing!”

Avery gritted her teeth and pressed on her urethra. She felt a spurt of urine release into her panties. Her shorts had a small, nearly unnoticeable wet spot, but her panties at this point were soaked through. She looked down to see how her little brother was doing, but he had run off somewhere. “Cody?” she called. Avery didn’t want to move, but knew she had to. She unbuttoned her shorts and shoved a hand down between her underwear and shorts. Sliding the gusset to the side, she held herself tightly. Stepping very carefully into the kitchen. “Cody?” she called again. She looked out the window into the backyard and saw her little brother peeing against a tree, totally unaware and uncaring what the Brownstein kids would think or say. Avery wished so desperately that she could do the same. She felt another gush of pee cascade down her fingertips. She winced and tried to adjust her legs, but nothing helped. She could feel herself losing the battle. She tried to walk back to the bathroom, but another wave of excruciating desperation hit her and she stumbled to the floor. Another, much more intense burst of pee splashed out, drenching her hand and her shorts. Avery shed a tear. She wanted to make it. She could hear Presley opening the door. She pressed her legs together and tried to get up, but all was lost. Presley emerged from the single bathroom as Avery begrudgingly let loose the floodgates between her shaking legs.

When You’ve Gotta Go…

Anders sat at the breakfast table next to his sister, Emma, and brother, Casey. He was wearing his new electric blue snowsuit and was anxious to use it. “Casey, will you go outside with Anders while Emma and I get ready?” Mom asked, “I’m dropping her off at a friend’s and then I’m going to work, so you need to be here with your brother the whole day.” Casey rolled his eyes; he was ten years older than Anders, and at fifteen he had better things to do than babysit. He stared at his younger brother in resent. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

Anders grabbed his matching electric blue jacket from the rack and headed out the door. Casey sat on the front step and sighed, his breath hanging in the air like fresh smoke. “Come on, Casey! Help me build a snow man!” Anders called.

“Build it yourself, retard!” Casey grunted.

“Come on! I need help!”

“Build it yourself!”

“COME ON, CASEY!” Anders whined, stomping his electric blue boots into the new snow.

“Fine,” Casey muttered.

Out the door came Mom and Emma. “I’m locking the door, Casey,” Mom called, “Have fun boys!” And to Anders she whispered, “Be a good boy,” and kissed his forehead.

Just as soon as the car had left the driveway, Anders said with a desperate look on his face, “I have to go pee-pee.”

Casey rolled his eyes and went for the door.

“Mommy locked it, ‘member?” Anders said.

Casey whispered a swear and searched his jacket pockets. Then he swore again.

“Hurry up, Casey! I have to go pee-pee!” Anders demanded. He was dancing about, trying to hang on inside the padded blue snowsuit.

“Just hold on, okay?” Casey instructed as he searched for an open window.

“Hurry!” Anders squealed.

Casey pulled himself up the old oak tree and into his bedroom. He ran down to the front door and opened it frantically. Anders stood there at the stoop, hands between his legs. “I have to go really, really bad!” Tears were dribbling down his face.

“Come on, run!” Casey instructed.

“I can’t! I have to go too badly!” Anders whined. Casey grabbed his brother’s arm and rushed him to the toilet. He yanked off the blue snowsuit and tried to pull down his brother’s jeans. “I can’t get my pants down!” Anders cried.

“Loosen yourself then,” Casey told him.

“I can’t! I’m gonna pee all over!”

Casey yanked his brother’s pants down just in the nick of time.

“Casey! My undies! I peed in my undies!” Anders whimpered. And sure enough, his white truck underwear were wet and stained.

Casey sighed. “It’s not your fault, it was an accident. Now go change and I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

When Anders came back down he was wearing his overalls and dragging his snowsuit. “These ones are my favourite,” he said.

Casey shrugged and poured his brother some hot chocolate. Anders finished it in three gulps. “More,” he demanded. Casey poured another and Anders finished his second cup just as fast. “Now let’s go sledding at the park!”

“Fine,” Casey replied, grabbing his wallet, smokes, and the key. “Do you have to pee?”

“No, I just went!” Anders protested.

“Okay then,” Casey said and helped his brother back into the electric blue snowsuit. Then they went to the garage to get the sled. It was a one person sled made of a red plastic sheet. It had been Casey’s until he outgrew it. “Are you ready?”

Anders shook his head, blushing, “I have to go pee-pee again!”

Casey grunted and opened the door. “Make it quick!”

Anders ran down the hall to the bathroom, and then he frantically shouted, “Casey!”

The older brother ran down to the bathroom where Anders was standing in front of the toilet, doing the pee-pee dance and trying to undo his overalls. “Can you help me?!”

Casey sighed and undid his brother’s overalls just in time. Casey thanked God it hadn’t happened at the park.

When Anders was ready, they left for the park. About half way there, Anders started walking funny. “Do you have to go pee?” asked Casey. Anders shook his head and kept walking. Every once in a while he would stop and pull on his crotch and turn around. Casey just rolled his eyes. He took out a smoke and lit up. “If you tell Mom or Dad about this, I’ll tell them you peed your pants again.” Anders nodded and squeezed his crotch again. Then they were at the park. “Go play over there on the hill. I’ll wait here.”

Anders shuffled over to the hill where he set up his sled next to a little blonde girl on a pink plastic sled. “I’m Lauren, what’s your name?” she asked.

Anders wiggled and said, “I’m not telling!”

“Why are you sitting like that, Inotelin?” Lauren asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Cause…” Anders murmured, blushing.

“You look like you’re gonna pee your pants when you sit like that,” Lauren informed him.

Anders wiggled again, tugging harder at his crotch.

“You’re weird,” Lauren said.

“No I’m not! You’re weird! You’re weird and a stupid ugly-head!” Anders shouted in defense.

Lauren stood up from her sled, letting it slide down the hill. She stomped her pink boots into the ground and shouted, “You’re a meanie-butt!” pushing the unsuspecting Anders down the hill. He screamed and fell over, realizing he’d let loose. Anders started to cry. He threw down his sled and looked down at his blue suit, now stained with wet. It had leaked out and as he cried, more pee came, making a puddle on the ground underneath him. “Casey!” he screamed, “Casey I peed!”