I am one year old. I don't remember this but I can imagine it clearly from my mother's stories.
I'm naked, of course, as I have not yet learned to be ashamed of the awesome ability to pee anywhere at anytime. As I wander out onto the back porch, my mother hears me happily proclaim the identity of an insect.
"Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....." This is followed by a moment of silence, which is then followed by incessant tear jerking screams of childhood terror and dismay.
My mother rushes out to see what's the matter. "Are you OK? What happened? Did you get stung by the bee?"
As a one year old, caught in a hysterical fit of shock and pain, I have trouble following and answering these questions. So I continue to wail. Suddenly my mother sees the problem.
My penis is turning a bright shade of purplish red and is swelling up like a frat boy at a strip club who just got the shit kicked out of him by a bouncer.
My mother rushes me, naked, to the car and straight to the hospital. The doctors inspect me and recommend several shots and some medication. As a hippy, my mother objects.
"What is the worst thing that can happen if we don't do anything about it?" She asks.
"Well, if the swelling doesn't calm down, it could stay swollen for a while and he if he has to pee, it could get blocked up and that could cause some serious trouble."
"Ok, but do we have time to wait and see if the swelling goes down before we pump him full of drugs?"
"Yes, you can take him home but call me if he has trouble peeing."
We exit the hospital and as my mother is putting me back into the car, I begin to calm down. This is when my penis explodes. I spray urine all over the car. All over it. The roof, the back seat, the front seat, the hatchback trunk, the whole inside of the car is covered in piss. The swelling and discoloration nearly vanish and I'm suddenly fine.
"I go bee-bee..." I say, woozy and fatigued.