I had to think about this one a bit, and the story that comes to mind is when I was about 12 years old. I was dressed for some sort of fancy party at the country club, and before I left with my parents, decided to walk the two blocks to my best friend James's house to see what he was up to.
This was the cool house to go to in the neighborhood. They were always working on their cars in the garage or driveway, ate junk food when they wanted, and had a variety of pets including, at one point, a baby deer (which was later released at a wildlife preserve in Texas).
Once at their house, James and I went to his backyard, where he proceeded to show me the large hole he had been digging under his bedroom window, which was going to be a spa at some point. To see if the hole would hold water, and to test how many people it would hold, James filled the hole up with water and then proceeded to get in. So did I. In my best Sunday suit. Which I hadn't taken off.
Didn't pay much attention to time, and, you guessed it, pretty soon my mom came knocking on the back fence gate looking for me. And she found me. In the hole, full of muddy water. In my best Sunday suit. I don't think I've seen anyone get that shade of red since that time, but suffice it to say you wouldn't want to see something like mom's face. Ever. Grounded for weeks, no tv (gasp!), and I think I might have been spanked. The joys of pre-teen adventure.
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