Shitting my Pants

I was just old enough to wipe my own ass and wash my own hands. I had developed a certain sense of privacy as a result of completing those tasks unaided, and that is why it was so terrible when I shat all over myself. It was mortifying to be covered with shit, not because I'd never been covered in shit before, but because I had believed up until that point that I had grown beyond shitting myself and that I would never shit myself again when this is entirely not the case because I have indeed shat myself again and I no doubt will do so again before I am dead. And yet there I was, in the middle of the night, crying in the shower as my father washed the brown goo from my legs.