Till Twelve...Yeah

It not very manly, I suppose, to admit to wetting the bed as a child, but I did, so there. I think it's better of one to cast off the errors of youth and steam up some of that fresh air of truth, and tell it.I wet the bed until I was twelve, when I learned to aim over the side and hit the pee bucket by the door.

That's a lie, but I thought it was funny, so its included here. I really did wet the bed until twelve, and then, as if the urine fairy had cinched my bladder, I stopped.I don't remember starting this habit (although I was probably peeing as I slid out of my Mom) and interestingly, as horrid as it was, I don't remember the momentous event of stopping. I just did.Now I pee anywhere I want and all the time. I don't in bed, but as a man I can, and do, almost anywhere else; behind car doors, in back of trees, big gulp cups, pay toilets, almost anywhere I choose, except in bed.

I am a grown man.