That phone call at 3pm asking you to pick up your child becasue he has wet his pants

Yesterday my son wet his pants at school.

Furrowed brow.

I didn’t give him a hard time about it, because likely it was embarrassing enough for him to have to leave his class and go to the office and wear spare shorts 3 sizes too big. He’s a really sweet little boy, and very tough, but sensitive. Like me.

In the bath I asked him about it; if he was worried about anything or felt funny inside about anything (its a stupid question for a 6 year-old because they can’t sort through things logically – its all in the gut).

He asked: mummy do people wet their pants when they get excited?

Oh yeah I said, people wet their pants for all kinds of reasons, but its better to listen to your body and take it to the toilet as a priority. (He can tend to deprioritise his bodily needs over his mental needs. This I observe because I do it too.)

He said: I was waiting in line for a turn to paint, and when the teacher said it was my turn, I was so excited and happy that I wet my pants!

Wow, I said, so what have you learned (…take your self to the toilet before you are so full of wee)

I have learned that I should not get so happy and excited, he said logically.


You ain’t ever seen anyone panic so much as me upon receiving this logic.

nononono nono no no no no no no no! I said. You have learnt to go to the toilet when you first hear the sign from your body!

Think of all the times you have seen me happy and excited… did I wet my pants? No!

Think of some times you were happy and excited, like at Movie World… did you wet your pants? No!


I may have overplayed that one.

I think I was so traumatised I almost wet my pants.


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