When John had stopped the car in front of my grandparents’ home, I started to get out. However, instead of stepping onto solid pavement or a concrete curb, I stepped right into a puddle of water. Cold Water flooded into my shoe soaking my sock and freezing my toes.
“Ah crap; that’s just great!” I complained loudly and got popped upside the ear by John.
“Hey, what was that for?” I complained even louder.
“Watch your mouth!” John warned, “You’re grandparents won’t put up with any of that kind of language, so I’d suggest you wipe all words like it from your mind this instant!”
I shot him a nasty look and thankfully, he hadn’t seen when I stuck my tongue out at him and then murmured to myself, “Thanks for the warm and cheerful welcome Lewiston!”
Mom came around the car and I guess she was excited or something, because she had forgotten to whisper. Either that or she purposefully wanted to embarrass the heck out of me.
“Alvin, do you want me to change your diaper before we go inside?”
“Moooooom!” I whined and looked around to make sure, no one had heard or were looking to see, whom she was talking to.
Thankfully, the only other person I saw was in a passing car, with the windows all rolled up. Actually, I didn’t need a diaper change because I wasn’t wearing one. However, neither of my parents knew that I’d removed my wet diaper on my own. As we were nearing the end of our road trip, I had struck a deal with John, that he would stop before we arrived at my grandparents and let me put back on regular underwear. However, John had gone back on his word and thus, I had to take matters into my own hands. Sitting in the back seat, I had quietly pulled off my pants, removed the diaper, which had been very wet, and then pulled my pants back on without them being any the wiser.
“What,” Mom asked innocently?
“Do you have to say it so loud?” I asked with a self-conscious moan.
Thankfully, the front door to my grandparent’s home swung open and that ended the whole diaper subject… or so I thought.
Now, you need to remember, that I said my grandparents are strict; you do remember me telling you that, right? Well, I wasn’t even inside the front door, when I was being ordered to take off my shoes and socks by my grandfather. I had just lifted my foot to step over the threshold, when he had reached out and placed a hand over my heart to stop me from entering.
“You’ll get water all over the tile boy! Off with those shoes and be quick about it. What-What!” He grumped.
He almost always ends what he is saying with ‘What-What’. I’ve no idea what it means, but it seems to have an infinite amount of uses.
Oh yeah and I’m not Alvin anymore—at least not according to my grandfather. Not once since we arrived, has he called me by name; it’s either ‘boy’ or ‘you there’ and worse yet, ‘that one’! And let me tell you that I’m getting sick of it too.
You know something else that was weird? They didn’t hug us when we arrived. They hadn’t seen any of us in ages, so you would think that they would be glad to see us, but we didn’t even get a welcoming smile. The only greeting I got was, when I was told to take off my shoes and socks and then, my grandmother showed me to the room I’d be staying in.
Upon entering the room, my grandmother promptly took hold of my shoulders, leaned down, placed her ruby-red lips next to my left ear and asked in more of a horsed tone then a whisper, “I suppose, you’re still peeing the bed every night?”
I was a little taken aback by her abrupt nature concerning such a sensitive subject, but before I could reply, she pulled back only a few inches, flicked my chin with her overly long, manicured nails and said, “Want to know a secret?”
Her smile, at least I think it was a smile, was kind of creepy and as she stroked the side of my face with her nail, I felt goose bumps forming on my arms.
She spoke again and I noticed that her breath smelled of liquor and coffee. “Your Grandfather used to pee the bed when he was little, just like you.”
Talk about taking the wind out of my sails. I was honestly stunned and totally without words. I was shaken to my core at the thought that my grandfather, her husband, had been a sheet-wetter just like me and I was equally horrified at knowing that about him.
She leaned close again, sniffed the air around me and took hold of my ear to inspect behind it. After making a disapproving ticking sound with her tongue against her teeth, she then inspected my fingernails.