Oh, I remember the first time. Dad had taken us children out. It was just the four of us. Mom was working. When we reached home, we discovered that Dad didn’t have the key, and the door was locked. This was pre-cell phone days, back when phones were big, clumsy things a headset as large as a small child’s head, and a rotary dial.
Dad reconnoitered to find a way in and then started talking about going to one of the neighbors’ houses to call Mom. We hadn’t lived there long, and didn’t know the neighbors.
I had a more pressing issue; I had to pee. Dad pointed to a bush and said, “Just go behind a bush.”
I was shocked. Pee outside? What are we animals. But when a boy hasta go, a boy hasta go.
Yep, I remember the first time.
Michael Seidel, writer 
You were lucky … I remember my first time, too, but … well, it’s logistically a bit more difficult for a girl. 😅
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LOL – might be easier for a boy, but some of us had a fear that a bird was going to fly off with our wiener, a story begun by a sister.
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Ha ha ha!!! I love it! 😊
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I think mine was during one of those long family road trips with Mom screening me from being seen by passing cars!
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LOL – oh myyy. I recall that happening with one of my little sisters.
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