She could remember desperately turning the doorknob on her bathroom over and over, as if, perhaps, on the tenth, or hundredth time, it would magically become unlocked, all the while hopping from foot to foot uncomfortably. She found herself playing along with the memory, pretending that the doorknob was stubbornly ignoring her childish pleas. She even re-made the mad dash for her bedroom door, freezing about halfway across her room with a cute little, “Uh-oh,” both hands clapping against the back of her diaper.

Of course, nowadays she was much better at holding it in, though you’d never have guessed it from looking at her. She giggled to herself, heading back to her bathroom, stomach protesting a little more loudly. She was back at the bathroom door when she heard a sudden knocking at the other door, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

“Are you awake yet?” her mom called from the other side.

“Yeah,” the girl answered after re-catching her breath, leaning against the bathroom door with her hand on her heaving chest. “I’m just about to take my shower.”

“Okay,” her mom replied. “We’re starting the egg hunt in half an hour.”

“All right,” the girl called back. She supposed she’d better stop playing around and actually get ready. She glanced over at her dresser sadly, wishing again that she didn’t have to go over there eventually. She remembered her mom being a little frustrated, though doing her best to hide it, when she’d had the accident. She distinctly recalled wondering if she was going to be put back into Pull-Ups, like had happened just a few years before when she’d lapsed on her potty training. After a week or so of expecting that, she realized it wasn’t going to happen, and she felt as if she’d really managed to get away with something.