I thought hard about it, waiting for everyone else in the house to go about their evenings and then head to bed, and ultimately decided that it would be best to only wet a couple of times a week.
Every night would leave me rashy and smelly, and more than four nights a week would be draining. But just a couple of times? That would be fine.
I made sure to double check my door was locked before I pulled the drynite out of the package and felt it over in my hands. It was awfully small — I briefly hoped I hadn’t been duped into buying something that wasn’t real.
But I hurried to strip out of my clothes, put one leg into the leg-hole, and encouraged by the fact it fit comfortably, put the other leg in and pulled the drynite up.
Not only dit it fit, but it was surprisingly comfortable! I hadn’t wet the bed beyond toddlerhood, so I’d never needed to wear one of these before, but feeling how nice it was made me wonder how long I should make myself a bedwetter for, exactly.
The instructions didn’t give a maximum age… only that if I didn’t specify, I’d wet for a minimum of ten years. I headed to my desk and scrambled for a texta, finding one quickly, and then wrote an age on the front of the drynite.
Then, satisfied with my choice, I got into my favourite pyjamas, admiring how they looked with just the tiniest bulge from padding beneath them, and got myself comfortably into bed.
Now to sleep, and in the morning I would awake.