Bed Wetting At Summer Camp

Every summer I work at a wilderness camp in West Virginia. (Not really, but for the sake of this story, I can pretend that I do.) Two summers ago, I was the Dorm Dean, which means it was my responsibility to supervise the boy’s bunk. I also had to sleep there.

This particular summer, a lad called Ernie, and his brother, arrived at camp two days late. At the pre-session meeting, I had been warned that Ernie was a chronic bed-wetter, which means he wet his bed every night. (Chronic.)

Ernie arrived in the middle of the day three. It was a hectic day, and, forgetting about his special condition, I let Ernie pick whichever bed he wanted. There were only two left: a bottom bunk tucked away in a corner, and a top bunk situated close to my nook. Ernie’s brother picked the bottom bunk in the corner; Ernie picked the top one near me.

Everything seemed cool until the next morning. The wake-up bell rang at 7:30, and, as I was swimming towards consciousness, I heard an 11-year-old boy’s voice ask if it had rained the night before. I said I didn’t think so, not having heard the rain tapping against the cabin’s tin roof during the night. One glance out the window at the bone-dry ground confirmed my suspicions. But Nick, as the talkative kid was called, kept repeating that he could have sworn that it had
rained, and, not only that, but that the roof had leaked too. As my eyes came into focus I saw that, indeed, even if it had rained and the roof had leaked, there was no way Nick could have gotten wet; he was on the bottom bunk.

But then I saw that there was another way he could have gotten wet — Ernie slept right above Nick. (Chronic.)

There’s a time for talk and there’s a time for action. This was no time for talk. I jumped out of bed and hustled Nick, a portly kid with unruly blond curls, into his Limp Bizkit shirt and blue jeans and out of the dorm, all the while agreeing with him that yes, what do you know?, it must have rained, and it must have been a very unusual rain, leaving no traces like that. When the other kids chimed in with their objections — pointing out the obvious, like the dry ground I had noticed earlier — I talked over them. Shut up you stupid kids, I thought.

Yeah, I screwed that one up. Maybe my friends will stop rubbing my nose in it.

Ernie peed on Nick. So what?

Lincoln McCardle Before He Was Famous – Twittens

A couple of years ago a skinny, scruffy, red headed fellow stumbled across this blog. He sent me a few messages stating that he liked the blog and was thinking of starting one himself. I offered him words of encouragement and later found out that he had started Canucklehead.ca. I visited his site daily for some comedic relief.

We started talking on the phone and learning about each other and began to realize that our lives were, in ways, uncannily similar. We were both red headed, both married, both had one child, and we both had another child on the way. Later on, we found out that we were both having boys. I know you’re saying, that could happen to anyone, so here is the kicker. My wife and I had picked the name of what we would name our child early in the pregnancy. We picked a boys name and a girls name until we found out the sex. Interestingly enough Lincoln and his wife had picked the same name for their son that we did. Well, it’s the same other than the fact my sons name is spelled with a “K” and theirs with a “C”. Our wives had our children withing a few weeks of each other, and all was well.

After the birth of my son, my life was busy and I slowly drifted away from the blog and the friends I had made online. I still kept in touch via Facebook as much as I could. I noticed that last year Lincoln got to run while holding the Olympic Torch and he started talking about something called Twittens. He seemed to post about them more and more frequently and begin posting pictures of them.

Much to my surprise this morning after watching this video on his latest blog post that I realized he actually invented these things.

So Lincoln, I would like to congratulate you on your success so far and can only hope that it carries you even farther. And I would also like to say to you, “You’re Welcome”. If you never would have discovered this blog, you probably wouldn’t have went down the path that took you to Twittens. ;p