Jul 26, 2022
I know, you’re wondering if this
is a topic that really needs to be discussed. Or can we just bundle
it up and toss it in the washing machine, pretending it never
happened. And my response is that it does need to be discussed for
two reasons. The first being because it’s good to create healthy
discourse about things you are normally embarrassed to bring into
public view. And two, because we’ve all peed the sheets.
No one is ever proud of this
unfortunate mishap, but it’s ok, everyone knows you didn’t do it
purposefully, it was just an accident more than once. And either
because you were a child traumatized by your divorcing parents, or
you simply have an old lady’s bladder.
Or you blacked the fuck
out.
Listen, I’ve had a few hard
drinking friends who should’ve had a plastic wrap around their
mattress. But can you picture the look on a person’s face when
you’re getting romantic and the first sound is that of lying on top
of an unopened Amazon package? Talk about a buzz kill. No one wants
to feel like they’re about to get busy on a hospital bed. I mean,
putting on a condom is awkward enough.
I’m gonna come clean here. I was
a bed wetter until the age of ten. In fact, I soaked my pants
during recess in the 4th grade, terrified to re-enter the classroom.
Hiding the wet leg wasn’t so difficult in the self-imposed solitary
confinement of the boys restroom but passing through the gauntlet
to my desk in the back of the room after the bell rung was a
different mission. And sure enough, Reggie the class clown caught
me dead in my tracks. “You Peed!” he yelped, pointing directly to
the massacre.
Wetting the bed at that age was
humiliating, but peeing your pants was a scarlet letter. But it’s
ok, I came to terms with it, and it made me a stronger
person.
Maybe this is why my favorite weed strain today is Cat Piss.