My earliest memory is peeing into a trashcan. I don’t know how old I was. Old enough to remember it but not old enough to remember how old I was, so maybe 3 or 4. I was in my family’s first house in Charlotte, the first house I can remember, in the corner of the living room by the hallway. I was watching television, and I really, really had to go to the bathroom but also, you know, television. This was before televisions could pause, much less move into the bathroom with you, so I was in a real bind. I guess I couldn’t make it to a commercial break, or maybe I didn’t want to miss the commercials either. A normal kid might have just peed in his pants (or gone to the bathroom), but I was clearly not your average kid. I had a plan. I could watch the show without getting yelled at for making a mess. The trashcan was sort of hidden by the end of the couch, so it seemed like the perfect place to discreetly relieve myself.
What's Your Story?
What's Your Story?
What's Your Story?
My earliest memory is peeing into a trashcan. I don’t know how old I was. Old enough to remember it but not old enough to remember how old I was, so maybe 3 or 4. I was in my family’s first house in Charlotte, the first house I can remember, in the corner of the living room by the hallway. I was watching television, and I really, really had to go to the bathroom but also, you know, television. This was before televisions could pause, much less move into the bathroom with you, so I was in a real bind. I guess I couldn’t make it to a commercial break, or maybe I didn’t want to miss the commercials either. A normal kid might have just peed in his pants (or gone to the bathroom), but I was clearly not your average kid. I had a plan. I could watch the show without getting yelled at for making a mess. The trashcan was sort of hidden by the end of the couch, so it seemed like the perfect place to discreetly relieve myself.