Kid Self-Conscious
Lately I’ve been doing some deep soul searching. It’s like deep sea diving, except I’m diving in the sea of life for answers, instead of in the sea for coral and blowfish, or whatever the fuck you do. I’ve been trying to figure out why I’m kind of insane and completely self-conscious about the most random things. Through my digging I have found out that I was extremely self-conscious even as a small child. A couple instances have jumped out at me that were kind of hints as to what type of adult human I would become.
The first situation I remembered was one from about as early in my childhood as I can remember. I was the ring bearer at a family members wedding. I must have blocked out the whole walking down the aisle calamity because I don’t remember that at all. What I do remember, however, is getting dressed in my little tuxedo. We were in the hotel room and there were a bunch of people around and my parents thought it would be a good idea to just get me dressed, out in the open.
In this situation I distinctly remember being extremely against it. I didn’t want all these adults staring at my peep show situation. I was just a kid for god sakes, my penis was certainly not the mammoth that it has become, and I didn’t want any of these creepy adults to make unfair penis judgments. Plus, isn’t having a bunch of adults, standing around a naked five year old, illegal? Where the fuck was Chris Hanson back then?
The next situation I remember is both extremely embarrassing and extremely gross. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about this, actually. Oh, what I’ll do for blog content. Anyways, I was in kindergarten at the time and we were standing in line at the teachers desk with papers in hand, ready for her to give them a good once over. Well I was about 6th in line and I really, really had to pee. If I wasn’t too self-conscious about doing the pee dance I would have been all up inside the pee dance situation at that time.
Instead of stepping out of line and walking to the bathroom like a normal human would I started asking myself all these weird questions like, “If I go, what will I do with my paper?” “Will I get my place back in line or will I have to go to the end?” and “What are these people going to think of me just dead sprinting out of our single file, straight to the bathroom? Will they think I have diarrhea or something? If they did, that’s unfair and extremely embarrassing.”
Well, by the time I got all of these thoughts through my mind I just started pissing directly into my pants. I’ve never felt so relieved and so frightened all at once. Not only did I piss my pants, but I also didn’t tell a single fucking person. It’s a damn good thing I was wearing dark jeans because nobody even fucking noticed! I also must have been extremely well hydrated because when it dried it didn’t smell like a piss parade had just marched down my legs. I made it through the whole day at school, after school at the babysitters, and back home with my mom without a single person ever knowing about my own little personal 9/11.
The last situation that really sticks out to me is from when I was in about 5th grade. Come to think of it, there were a lot of awkward situations in middle school. One of the completely unrelated awkward situations was when my first girlfriend broke up with me because her friends made fun of her for dating such a loser. What a confidence booster! It’s alright though, because I bet those whores are living in an alley snorting coke off a black dudes cock right now, meanwhile I have tons of internet friends and hate myself. Who wins? I don’t know, but I think it’s pretty obvious that I am the victor in this situation.
Anyways, back on track. I like to call this disaster the “Great Underwear Debacle”. We had just got done with our swimming lessons for PE and I had just finished dodging our perverted teacher who liked to stare at naked boys in the shower, when I came back to my pile of clothes on the floor. We weren’t allowed lockers because those were for 6th graders. When I got back to the clothes I found something was amiss as my underwear was gone! WTF? Then I looked about halfway down the locker room and noticed a pair of underwear that looked sort of like mine, but I couldn’t tell.
I didn’t want to just go pick up the rogue underwear, because what if they weren’t mine? What if they belonged to the retarded black kid, who was somehow a better swimmer than I (yet I could kick his ass in a sitting still competition)? So I did the only thing I could do to save face, I free-balled it! It seemed win-win at the time. Then after everyone was dressed and we were sitting on the benches the child rapist PE instructor saw the underwear and picked them up saying “Who forgot their underwear? Someone is going to be real uncomfortable for the rest of the day.” Oh fuck! A flaw in my plan! Surely they won’t check each and everyone of us for underwear, would they?
Well, everyone was laughing, including me so I could fit in and not seem suspect. Luckily our PE instructor was, in fact, a gigantic pervert so he just dropped the whole situation and took the underwear to the back where he presumably jerked off into it for years to come (literally, teeheehee).
I’d like to think that I’ve come a long way since my childhood, and for the most part I have. I’m not pissing in my pants or leaving rogue undwear crosscountry anymore. Yet still, those same self-conscious questions keep poping up in my head in whatever situation I’m faced. It’s kind of funny because the only time my mind isn’t clouded with those types of questions now is when I’m in a room full of adults, naked. In that situation my only question seems to be “Alright, who’s next?”
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