Age Ain't Nothing But A Number

Chapter Six

A few nights later, I was trying to get Michael to use the bathroom before we went to bed.

But he didn't want to.

"I don't wanna"!

Michael plopped down on the bed and then put his index finger in his mouth.

"Michael baby—".

I began.

"NO"!

Michael immediately fell asleep after that.

I let out a sigh in defeat.

Maybe I could convince him to go to the bathroom in the morning before breakfast.

I got into bed and then cuddled with Michael, and he wrapped his arms around me for protection.

When morning came, Michael woke up feeling wet.

And when he looked at the sheets, he immediately began pulling them off the bed.

"Oh no".

He whispered, gripping the sheets.

"Wha—? Huh"?

I opened my eyes and there was Michael panicking about something.

"Michael baby. What happened"?

I asked him.

The bed sheets were soaking wet.

And, so were Michael's pajama pants.

He looked up at me.

Michael tried to talk, apologize, explain, anything!

But blubbering whimpers and whines were the only things that came out.

"Michael, it's okay. It's okay".

I kept trying to reassure him.

"Michael".

I said in a soft, but stern voice that quieted some of his cries.

"I know you're embarrassed, and upset. But right now, you need to change those pants and wash yourself before you get a rash. Get up please".

Michael glumly obeyed and made his way to his bathroom.

Not in the mood for a shower, he twisted the faucet and filled the tub. Even if I wasn't judging him, he still couldn't help but feel humiliated.

The water was just turning cold when the bathroom door cracked open.

He giggled when I walked in with my eyes shut tight.

My right hand held a pair of clothes for him.

I put them on the floor without a word, for which he was grateful, and left just as fast as I came in.

He lingered until the cold water became unbearable and forced himself out of the tub.

He put on the clothes I left and plopped himself on the floor next to the door.

Michael's hand floated to his mouth. He parted his lips and swallowed his thumb without a fight.

I was concerned about his bed wetting.

Knowing that I should probably convince Michael to take a bathroom break, I knocked on the door before entering.

"Awww...it'll okay Applehead. Everyone has accidents every once in a while".

I got down on the floor and he pulled me into his lap.

"I used to have bed wetting problems when I was little".

Michael told me.

We stayed like that for a little while and then I led Michael to the kitchen to make us some breakfast.