My friends were away for the weekend, and they put me in charge of checking in on and feeding their two cats.  I did this twice a day.  I had watched them in the past, without incident…

Sunday night, I drove to my friends’ house.  The two cats, a female named Charlie and a male named Vinny, greeted me at the door as usual, both meowing in anticipation of being fed.  The male cat, Vinny, was especially vocal that evening, which I assumed meant that he was extra hungry.

Now, Vinny is extra enthusiastic toward feeding, so much so that he has taken to bullying the other cat  to steal her food.  Because of this, I had to separate the two felines for feeding time.  I gave Charlie her food in the extra bedroom and shut the doors.  Vinny meanwhile had already devoured his food and was meowing and following me around, looking for more.

“Quiet, you little piglet!” I said.

While waiting for Charlie to finish her food—she’s a slow eater—I decided to use the bathroom.  Now, the bathroom at my friends’ place has two doors.  One was already closed, as to allow Charlie to eat her food in peace.  I entered the bathroom through the other door, but when I went to close the door, I looked down and saw that Vinny, still hot on my heels for food, had joined me in the bathroom.

No big deal, I thought.  I stood by the toilet, unzipped, and started my business (Number 1).

Suddenly, Vinny darted between my legs and popped his head up to look into the toilet.

“Vinny! No!” I exclaimed.

Too late.  The cat had stuck its head directly into my stream of urine.  I stopped urinating as quickly as possible, but the cat still got sprayed.  As quickly as Vinny had appeared, he darted away and ran out of the bathroom.

I continued my business, laughing the entire time, waiting to finish so I could call my friends and tell them that I had just peed on their cat’s head.

I’ve experienced a lot of embarrassing moments in life; but the one that most readily comes to mind when I think of embarrassing moments is one that happened to me way back in first grade.

After recess, I got in line for the bathroom. I was first in line, but I really had to pee. Now, let me explain the bathroom situation for our first grade classroom. The classroom I in had its own, single toilet bathroom in the actual classroom. I guess the teachers didn’t want us to go down the hall and use the bathrooms that the rest of the school used. Maybe they thought we’d get lost on the way there. Subsequently, I had only a vague idea of where the bathrooms were outside of my classroom.

Anyway, I was next in line for the bathroom and behind me was a kid named Matt. I turned to Matt and said:

“I really have to go.”

“Knock on the door,” he said. “Who’s in there?”

“I don’t know.”

I knocked on the bathroom door.

“Who’s in there?” I asked.

“Nathan,” the young boy said.

“Hurry up! I really have to go!”

“OK.”

But the door remained closed, the toilet unflushed. By now, the rest of my classmates had come back from recess and were seated at their desks.

Then, suddenly, in front of everyone, I peed my pants. A dark wet spot quickly spread over the crotch of my jeans. Soon my teacher, Mrs. Neff, came over and saw what had happened. Next thing I know Mrs. Neff was unlocking the bathroom door and scolding Nathan, who was still on the toilet in mid dump.

Soon I was sent to the nurse’s office. I was provided a new, dry t-shirt, and a set of awful donor pants. If I recall, they were both plaid and polyester. She put my urine-soaked clothes in a plastic bag and sent me on my merry way.

Ah, childhood.