At one point in my younger years living at home my mom knew I had been using my pants as a toilet for my number two and maybe my number one. It was the shit that was troubling to her. Why was her teenage son crapping his pants on a regular basis. She found my undies more than once and each time I had to come up with some lie as to what happened. I couldn’t tell her what really happened. I always told her I had an accident either on the school bus or out in the garage. Her reply was what happened to your outer pants. Were they stained and if not then why couldn’t you hold your shit and make it to the bathroom. Our house had three bathrooms. So one day I came home from school 8th grade and she told me to go to my bathroom and look at something in there. I did to find a pair of my underpants in the sink with tons of brown residue stains on them from a previous loading that I was not able to remove the stains in washing it out. I was caught. The lies would not work and right there I decided to see if telling the truth would make it easier to continue to mess myself on purpose or would it make it worse. I stripped all the way down and put those undies on and went back downstairs to show my mom I was wearing them. She was shocked that I had them on. Her response was why are you wearing underpants that had shit in them. I didn’t answer her but instead made a face of grunting right in front of her and dropped a long one down into those pants. It didn’t make it better but much worse. It was a very tough afternoon with lots of yelling. I eventually left the house, got on my bike and rode off. I came down on that seat a few times mashing my shit.