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FOREWORD: I experienced some of it like this. However, I've shifted the plot further towards the present day because I don't remember the details of that time well enough. Tom has just turned 13. His cousin is 12 and they share a similar fate. They are bedwetters. His cousin's brother Paul (4 years old) and his sister Viktoria (8 years old) are also part of the story. PART 1: TOM WETS THE BED AGAIN It wasn't far home now. I had just played a sensational soccer match and scored three goals. Everyone celebrated me. But now I had to go to the loo urgently. So I left my bike and looked around for a toilet on foot. But there was nothing to be found. But suddenly I spotted a white toilet seat behind a bus shelter. There were no people in the bus shelter at the time and the windows of the house behind the bus stop all had green high shutters and these shutters were all closed. So I could risk sitting down here quickly and peeing in the toilet. Nobody would see me and then I would drive on quickly. Suddenly my mother called."Hello Tom, we're visiting your aunt today. Get ready. Can't you hear me?" She suddenly shook me by the shoulder. Now the events came thick and fast. While my mother was already standing next to me and I was slowly waking up, I noticed my wet pants and the wet bed. I was wide awake, remembering the dream in which I was looking for a toilet and finally found it. My mother reached for my comforter at the same second. I reacted too late. The blanket was gone. I was sitting half upright in a big wet spot, my hands outstretched for the blanket. My mother immediately realized what had happened. "Tom! Have you wet the bed again? There's no way! I thought we were past this. You're 13 years old. Last week it was an ‘accident’, and the day before yesterday too, that's the third time now." I got hot, the blush was certainly on my face. It used to happen all the time until 6 years ago, but then it was over. Well, almost. It happened from time to time. But every 4 to 6 months at most. Now I was sitting there, wet, again. “Get up!” I stood in front of my mother. My pyjamas were sticking to my legs. My shirt was damp all the way down my back. There was a big wet spot on the bed. The comforter had also taken a beating and even the pillow was affected. "That can't be right, it's all wet! You're not a toddler anymore." My head was flaming red. What was I supposed to say? I was ashamed and stood rooted to the spot in the room. “Take that off” As I didn't react immediately, my mother pulled my top over my head. When she tried to grab my pants, I held them tightly. "No, please don't. I can do that myself." I shouted and ran into the bathroom. As I did so, my wet pants were clearly audible around my bottom. “Go and have a shower in a minute,” my mother called after me. When I stepped out of the shower, my wet pants were lying on the floor in front of me. Unmistakable proof that it had all just happened again. It was so embarrassing. With a towel tied around me, I ran back to my mother in my room. I held the wet pants next to me with two fingers. My mother had already taken off the sheets and put my mattress on the balcony. I was shocked again. Again I had a bright red head. “Do you really have to put the mattress out?” I moaned. “Yes of course Tom, otherwise everything in the room will smell”, she replied more conciliatory. “What should I do with the pants?” I asked meekly. My mother looked at me with a mixture of disappointment, pity and a bit of anger. "Go back, wash them out well and take your shirt and the sheet with you. Then hang everything up on the balcony. I'll put it in the machine with the rest when we get back." My mother looked at me with a mixture of disappointment, pity and a bit of anger. "Go back, wash them out well and take your shirt and the sheet with you. Then hang everything up on the balcony. I'll put it in the machine with the rest when we get back." The washing was embarrassing again, but hanging it up next to my mattress couldn't be beaten. Anyone who walked past the house could immediately see what had happened here. Even the neighbors' children, and especially the two girls from the house opposite, would know everything, I thought. We played together almost every week. For the third time in the last two weeks, my mattress is out there. I would never be able to look them in the eye again. At breakfast afterwards, my “accident” was no longer an issue. Shortly afterwards, we were already in the car on the way to my aunt's house. Part of the family was meeting there today. My aunt had three children, two girls (4, 8 and 12) and the youngest was a boy. Her brother's two boys were also there. Laura, the 12-year-old, and I came into the living room from playing to have a drink. The adults were talking about bedwetting. I was so embarrassed and Laura was obviously in a hurry to leave the room. When we got back home in the afternoon, my mother took care of the laundry and put the mattress back on the slatted frame with the stain facing down. I went to bed around ten pm. I was almost falling asleep when my mother came into the room. "Tom! Have you been to the loo?" “Yes,” I mumbled. “It's better we go again,” she pulled the covers off me and waited until I got up. “I don't have to!” "Then your bed will be wet again tomorrow, darling. Maybe you'll stay dry tonight." I shuffled to the loo. “Stay there, I'll come and get you.” “Mom, I'm 13 and not a toddler!” "Yes, Tom, I know, but you'll be happy if you don't have wet pants again tomorrow, won't you? Aren't you?" “Yes mom.” She left me sitting there for fifteen minutes. I felt so ridiculous. “So Tom, successful?” “Yes,” I lied. I didn't want to wait any longer for permission in such a childish way. "You see. Then you'll certainly be dry tomorrow, big guy," she praised me. "Clean up, rinse, wash your hands and you can slip into your bed. Look how good it smells, I've made everything fresh." She held the blanket open for me and patted the mattress encouragingly. The next morning, my mother came into the room as I was leaning over the bed. Everything was wet again. She caught me trying to separate the dry parts from the wet ones and stopped in the doorway. "But Tom! Again? Your pants are sticking to your bottom. Your shirt is all wet." I turned around and looked shamefacedly at the floor, my hands crossed in front of my wet pants as if I could still cover something up. "That's not possible if you were in the toilet yesterday like we agreed. Were you?" I shook my head. "Tom, that’s like toddler time! Now take your clothes off, give them to me, I'll do it together with the bed sheets. You go and have a shower." I stood there undecided. Do I have to strip naked now? In front of my mother? "Hurry up, you have to go to school. Put your clothes on the bed. I'll put everything in the machine together." She was still standing in the door. I couldn't walk past her like yesterday. I bashfully slipped out of my pants. “The wet shirt too,” she urged me. Now I was naked, I put everything on the bed and slipped past my mother. When I came back showered, my mother had already stripped the bed. The wet mattress was already back on the balcony. She held a new pair of underpants out to me. “Come on Tomi, slip into them.” Naked as I was, I had to put on my underpants like a four-year-old in front of her. “Tomi,” my mother squatted down in front of me as I nervously tried to get into my panties. “Come on, I'll help you,” she held my pants wide open so that I could get into them. “Tomi, we'll have to think of something if we're going to bed so often again.” “Mom, please, I promise I'll sit on the toilet for a long time tonight.” “All right, get dressed and come and have breakfast.” After school, my mother said that we would visit my aunt and her children again today. “Before we go, please go to the loo, Tom.” “Mom.” “Yes, Tom?” “I'm not a small child and you don't always have to remind me.” "Tom, better to go once more than to wet the bed again tonight. What do you think?" I meekly sneaked to the bathroom. When I came back, my mother was already standing in the hallway. “So, everything done?” “Yes, mom,” I grumbled. We were playing in my aunt's garden when my four-year-old cousin Paul was called out onto the patio. “Paul, time to go to the loo,” said his mother. Paul didn't want to. “We're playing so nicely right now.” "Paul, when your pants are wet, you'll go potty again for a week. Is that what you want?" He looked up at me bashfully and ran to the toilet. “Tom, when Paul's finished, you're going straight away too,” my mother said. With a red head, I looked at my cousin Laura, who looked much more grown-up in her summer dress than her 12 years. Indignant, I wanted to say something back, but my mother's eyes met mine, telling me not to discuss this now. “Sparrow, please go.” I crept after Paul and later mumbled something about “cystitis” in front of my cousins. Back home, my mother came into my room in the evening after dinner. "So Tom. Time for bed." I was surprised, I had been going to bed on my own for years. "I'll make up your bed and find you some new pyjamas and you brush your teeth and go to the toilet. Okay?" I was too surprised to say anything. When I sat down on the toilet, she was back. "Everything's ready over there. Are you finished?" I shook my head as I had just sat down. “Should I wait here?” My underpants at my ankles and otherwise naked, I shook my head vigorously. "Fine, I'll come and get you then. You promised to sit up late today and make a real effort," she reminded me. After half an hour, she was back. “Ready?” I nodded. When I was already in bed, my mother came back. “Look, we'll put a thick towel under there so it doesn't all get wet.” “Mom, that's childish.” “Honey, I know it's all a bit difficult for you, but we'll have to think of something to protect your bed.” “Mom” “Get up a minute, I'll put this under you.”