When I was in middle school, I was best friends with another guy named Adam. One day I rode the bus stop to his house as we had already planned it with parental approval to hang out at his house. Well for some reason, his stop was apparently a good walk from his house. He says "lets just jump over the fence and cut through the neighbors yard" which was across the street from his house and he made it clear that we weren't suppose to do it. I'm not a lazy person and I tried to convince him to walk the extra steps. But he made the jump and I was dumbly obligated to follow especially considering I didn't know how to get to his house from where we were. So we crawled on our bellies like I imagined they did in the army with our backpacks on. I was usually pretty scared when it came to "getting into trouble" but I thought we did a good job and we were almost in the clear.
As soon as we got at the gate, the dude who owned the house literally pulls in the driveway. Busted, we both independently (and without a word) run as fast as we could to his house. I thought we were off free, but then Adam tells me like a day or two later that his neighbor had a "talk" with his dad. Far as I know my mom never knew, but to be fair it was Adam's fault for the whole thing.