One early fall, while up at Bear Lake with my family - cousins, aunts, and uncles included - a few of us decided to have a game of ultimate frisbee. We did not have to walk far to the open field by our place so the game quickly ensued. It had been a fairly chilly day so everyone had worn their sweatshirts and long pants. Quickly, though, as the game progressed, jackets were shed and pants rolled up. Following suit, the game became more intense and competitive as time wore on.
During one of the plays the frisbee was thrown, I can't remember if it was toward me, or the other team was throwing it for my sister to catch. Regardless, the frisbee was amiss from its target and my sister and I both deemed it important to catch it. With our focus on the frisbee and hopeful to be the first to catch it we ran fast and hard right into each other. We collided and fell into one entangled mass on the grass. Due to the impact and the bout of laughter that followed I couldn't restrain myself and...well... I peed my pants.
Yep.
The adult me, being well aware that it is no longer acceptable, or excusable I should say, to do so, peed my pants. I laughed for quite a while, then had to inform my sister of what I had done, to which she laughed.
The two of us decided I should continue play, so I tied a sweater around my waist and played out the game. I'm fairly sure it was not an adequate cover up, but under the circumstances it was all I had.
