This is a Journal entry by Sunshine

Weeting the Bed - Age 6 or 7

Post 1

Sunshine

The lighthouse laughs when it sees us coming.

"You'll never catch cod with a line like that," it burbles.

Nick is sick over the side of the boat as Uncle Charles hauls in 6 grumpy fish with gobs like man-traps.

"Just you behave," I reply, taking the measure of its ice-cream castle colours of white and red.

"I'll have words with you when I get home."

That night as I sleep my tiny legs slip and slid across the seaweedy shore beckoned by the Farnes Island lighthouse. Climbing the steps that wind around the side I find a door.

"Just what I was looking for," I remark. I drop my pants and have a pee.

Moments later.

"I didn't want to, Mummy." I call up to her as she leans over the bed and lifts the sheets.

"I thought I had gone to the toilet."

"That's alright," she says and I quickly pull the damp vest I'm wearing over my head.

The next morning I feel cold. I wet the bed deliberately to make the bed warm. That was the last time I wet my bed.



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Weeting the Bed - Age 6 or 7

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