My School Nativity Play.
This was in my first year in middle school as I had attained the age of seven, it was a tradition that the first years did the school nativity play that year for Christmas, and we were all roped in. There were three classes in that year and I was to be someone carrying a lamp, I had no words to speak, as by now they all knew I was useless at these things as I got so nervous and couldnâ€™t remember a thing about what I was supposed to be doing.
The stage was set and we were all in our places as the curtains opened and the play got off to its start.
All our mums were in the hall ready with cameras as the deal little ones pranced about on the stage, and stumbled over their lines being constantly prompted by the teacher. It should have been fun, but for me it was a terrifying experience, and the prospect of me standing in the back left hand corner of a dimly lit stage carrying a lamp to light up my section, was a very daunting prospect. But I had to do my bit or the other children would not have been seen strutting their stuff and looking good in front of their mums. It was an important job being a lamp.
I became more and more nervous as the moment drew closer for me to stand there holding a torch up high to illuminate my section of the stage. Finally it was my turn to become a star and I entered the world of show biz and went on stage and be a lamp. Others had achieved higher positions such as â€˜angleâ€™ or â€˜shepherdâ€™ or even â€˜One of the three kingsâ€™ but I was a lamp.
Even so it was too much for me and I was ushered on stage and I stood there shaking, I held my lamp up high wearing my long black cloak over my school uniform, before the first word had even been said I needed to go to the toilet. I stood there holding my lamp but not my bowels and could feel my bottom getting warm as my pants filled with poop, before I had finished pooping in was wetting my self and stood there in font of the whole school, and there mums relieving my self into my clothes on stage.
Thankfully it was darkish and my lamp was shining in front of me, but I cold feel the wee running down my legs as I emptied my bladder into my pants. By the end of my time on stage I was soaked and poopy, the curtains closed and everyone was supposed to exit the stage quickly as the next lot wanted to get on, but I was frozen to the spot and couldnâ€™t move, and was in the way of all the rest.
I was physically lifted out of the way by a male teacher so they could all get off the stage and he asked me what the hell was I just standing there like that for, I had to tell him what I had done and in the wings of the stage he lifted up my long black coat revealing my soaked school uniform and bulging seat area of my trousers.
A lady teacher was called and I was taken out of my costume and walked down the first aid room in my wet smelly uniform, my mum was called out of the hall to come and collect me.
Mum, as you can imagine, was not well pleased and I was marched off to sit with her in the car, but we had to wait there until my older brother was let out of school before we could go home and I could get out of my cold wet, smelly trousers.
It could have been worse as no one had seen me wet myself on stage as the coat had covered it, and I was well out of the way in the car as the other children came out of school, so I didnâ€™t feel too bad about it, but little did I know more hassle was to come.
When we got home mum saw to my needs first and striped off my bottom half and cleaned me up, she had to wash my trousers as they were need for the next day at school as I only had the one winter uniform, the summer one had short trousers and I couldnâ€™t go the school in them as I would have stood out like a sore thumb.
I went back down stairs to join my older brother wearing just a clean pair of under pants and top and we had our evening meal and started to play on the floor. My dad came home from work and sat down for his meal and saw us playing there on the floor in front of him, he asked me why I was in a state of undress as it was not my bed time yet, and I said nothing as I was too ashamed to tell him what I had done. I knew what the reaction would be as he was a bit strict in some ways and could deal out a good smack for misbehaviour of this severity.
My kind brother took no time in blurting out that I had pooped and weed in my school trousers in front of the entire school. My dad was as shocked as I felt embarrassed and he shouted to mum in the kitchen to find out if this was true before he got back to me. By now I was about to poop myself for the second time today, and I sat there on the floor expecting the worst. My brother was smiling knowing that he would soon see me being punished for my sins, and mum had to stop what she was doing and wipe her hands and come in to explain what had gone on that afternoon.
My dad looked at me and said in a loud voice that I was far too old to still be messing myself and there was defiantly some thing wrong with me in the head and it would have to be sorted out as no child of his was going to be still pooping himself at the age of seven. He ask mum if I had already had my tea and mum said that I had, he commanded me to get up and walk to him and he pulled me over his knee and I had several good whacks on the back side to teach me not to act like a baby and then was sent off to bed early without seeing any telly as my punishment.
I went up stairs crying, but was more scared off wetting my bed that night as that was another thing that bugged my dad, and I knew it would set him off on that â€˜me not being normal thing againâ€™ because I did wet my bed some times.
I canâ€™t remember if I did wet that night or not but the next day went well at school with only the teacher mentioning the accident the day previous, no one else had noticed my absences from class after the show so said nothing. However my dad and brother took a lot longer before stopping making fun of me as there was now a daily airing of my childish ways, and even a year later my dad would say to mum when we went on holiday or a long trip, â€œhave you packed a spare pare of trousers for the babeâ€ .
Oh how I laughed at his sense of humour!
That year my dear father passed away on Christmas Eve and I loved him even though I was punished by him several times during my young life for being naughty. He was a good dad and I did deserve all I got and I miss him to this day.