Week 6- Earliest thing you can remember

Posting from Nashville, btw, on graduate school search part 2. Today, Vandy. Tomorrow, Duke.

Well, this is embarrassing, but the earliest thing I can remember is...

Once, when I was very young (obviously), when we still lived in Pennsylvania, so I must've been about 3 years old, I was playing outside in the cul-de-sac. I remember it was summer and I was playing with the kids on the street. I was wearing overalls and my hair was short. I had to go to the bathroom and I ran up to my house. I rang the doorbell, but no one answered. I started to panic. I mean, I really had to go to the bathroom. Where was my dad? Wasn't he home? What was I going to do? I rang the doorbell again and waited desperately. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, my father opened the door. Unfortunately, it was just a little too late and right as he opened the door I peed my pants. Then I really didn't know what to do. I started to explain to my dad that I had to go to the bathroom and was waiting and didn't make it. Apparently, this was really funny to him and he started laughing and said it was ok. In fairness, if I opened my front door and the first thing I saw was my 3-year-old pee her pants, I'd probably laugh too. But then I just felt so terrible and I cried. So there we were, father and daughter, my dad was trying to comfort me and tell me that I wasn't in trouble and I could just change my clothes but he just kept laughing at my terrible misfortune.

In retrospect, it is really funny. But at the time, I'm sure it was mortifying.

Oh, childhood.
love.