About 25 years ago, when I was a wee lad of 6 or 7 years old, my family went on a weekend trip.
Details are fuzzy; I think it involved an amusement park like Hershey, but it might have been more rustic. As the weekend lengthened my younger brother Ward became progressively more ill-tempered and difficult to get along with. He was especially antsy in the car on the return trip.
When we reached home, Ward bolted out of the car and was the first one into the house once the door was unlocked. Where was he running in such a hurry? The bathroom. Nothing too surprising there, since anyone's going to need to go after a lengthy car trip.
Alas, it was much worse than that. In unfamiliar surroundings for the past weekend, Ward did not know where the bathroom was and was too embarrassed to ask. In a remarkable display of will and intestinal fortitude, he managed to "hold it in" for two whole days.
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