One Saturday morning when I was about 7 or 8, my father told me to go into an apartment block to offer the magazines.
After about half-an-hour, I had a desperate need to pee, but was too embarassed to ask any householders if I could use their toileets. Not knowing what to do, I carried on.
While talking to a lady at the next door, I couldn't hold it in any longer. I felt a sudden release, followed by a warm trickle down my inside leg. A little puddle spread around my left shoe.
Absolutely mortified, I fled down the stiars, sobbing with shame. I hid by the rubbish bins and drained my soggy shoe into a bin then wrung out my sock. At least my trousers were relatively dry.
I put my sock and shoe back on and walked around for ages till they dried out a bit. I don't think I ever told my parents.
I'd forgotten all about it until I read this thread. I guess I'd blocked it out!