One night we were just chilling in the apartment, not up to much. I got up and went to the fridge (I feel like this was a dangerous thing for me, I'm not sure why). I came back empty handed, but Lindsay was waiting for me by the oven (meaning she had me trapped in the kitchen).
I don't remember what we had been talking about or doing, or why she had the urge to do this, but she suddenly grabbed me and started tickling me.
Now, a good trick that usually works to tell people to stop tickling you is to tell them you have to go to the bathroom. So I did that. Except, well, I really did have to go.
"Lindsay, stop! I have to pee!" I cried through fits of giggling.
Oh, but that only egged her on. "McKensey, come help me! Don't let her get away!" If any of you know McKensey, you don't need me to tell you how encouragable she is.
Now I have my two roommates holding me down, tickling me, and I've collapsed to the ground screaming, "Let me go! I really have to pee! I'm gonna pee my pants!" and they are just laughing, paying no heed to my warning.
So you know what I did?
I peed my pants.
And they couldn't say I didn't warn them.
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