Wetting The Bed (shorts)

Hand Me Downs

Bedwetting at age 12 is annoying. Wearing spiderman pull-ups meant for toddlers is babyish. But having everyone know about it, is embarrassing. My name is Simon and I'm that 12 year old bedwetter.

My parents feel that this is a medical condition just like any other one. Because of that philosophy, they were very open about it. Every counselor and adult in my life knew that I wet the bed. At least, I didn't have to worry about going to camp.

When I was eleven, my friend, Phil, came to my house for a week. His parents had gone on a vacation, leaving him by us. When it came time for bedtime, my mother gave us instructions. "Simon, Phil it's bedtime". "Go to the bathroom to pee, brush your teeth, and get into pajamas". "And Simon, don't forget to put on your pull-up, I don't want you soaking your bed again". My face turned bright red, with embarrassment. As Phil smiled.

When I got to my room, I saw that my mother had taken out our pajamas and left them on our pillows. I had spiderman staring up from mine. I quickly yanked off my briefs and started to pull them on, hoping to have them covered before Phil came in. But the door creaked open, when they were still by my knees.

"Looking good", he said. As I bent over to pull on my pajama pants, he gave my pull-up a quick smack causing it to crinkle. He then took off his clothes and crawled into bed in just his briefs. "Good night and stay dry", he said.

In the morning, my pull-up was soaked. I didn't need to check, to know that the stars had faded. I climbed out of bed and went to my closet to get my clothes. As I was getting them together, Phil woke up. "Good Morning Simon", he said. "I see that your pull-up worked". "Your pants are sagging, but not wet". "Don't worry, my brother also wets himself".

"But Eric is only 5", I stated. He told that's true, but it will pass sometime. I spent the rest of the week, getting "emotional support" from Phil about wetting the bed. He claims that he always knew, which could be true.

But that wasn't the worse part. About a month later, there was a knock on my front door. When I answered Phil, Eric, and his mother were standing there. They were each holding a box. It was colorful and said huggies pull-ups on it. "I stopped wetting the bed", Eric proudly announced. "Therefore I don't need pull-ups anymore". That's when their mother took over talking. "We don't need all these extra pull-ups, and we were going to throw them out". "That's when Phil remembered that you need them, so we're giving them to you".

My mother heard the conversation and came by. "That's so thoughtful", she said. "They are really expensive, and Simon really needs them". She took one out and told me to go try it on. "Once it is on, come here". "I want to see how it fits". Humiliated, I took the mickey mouse pull-up and went to the bathroom. Once it was on, I walked to the front door, in just the pull-up. Eric was so excited to see me in his pull-ups. And wouldn't stop talking about it. He told everyone at school, which is how I got my nickname, "mickey". After my mickey mouse pull-ups.