Our first grade classroom had its own bathroom. All one had to do was raise your hand, ask for permission, and then head straight to the back of the room, where the toilet was located (obviously, there was a door that one could close for privacy).
On this particular day, I had a touch of diarrhea. I went to the toilet and got most of it out. I don't recall if I forgot to flush or if it didn't go all the way down, but about an hour after I went (and was sitting back at my desk), the teacher asked who had made the mess in the bathroom.
My young mind knew that I would most likely be in trouble if I admitted it, so I chose to remain quiet as the teacher waited for a confession. A janitor came to the room and began cleaning up the mess. A minute later, the teacher said she thought she knew who had done it. I still wasn't buying and didn't confess. When no one took the bait, she went back to her lessons.
Whatever I had done, I got away with it and learned a little bit about not always stepping forward. I probably lost about 23% of my innocence that afternoon.