A toast to you, Bed Wetter - Everybody’s least favorite house guest. The person responsible for you having to Lysol your entire futon and thoroughly wash that blanket 4 times. You know, that one blanket that Gam-Gam knitted for you when you were 3. Well now it smells like it did when you were a filthy little 3 year old…like piss. Except this time its not because your parents let you watch Jurassic Park and you got so scared that a velociraptor would eat your face that you pissed your pants. No, this time its because some asshole got wasted, crashed on your couch, grabbed Gam-Gam’s blanky and pissed all fucking over it.

Don’t get me wrong. I know its an accident. I’ve done it. That’s right. I have gotten so wasted that I blacked out, fell asleep before I could empty my bladder, and pissed my bed. (I even blamed it on a night sweat. A ball-sack only night sweat.) There is no shame in getting so drunk that you piss the bed one time. Well, there is some shame in it. Sorry Mom and Dad. The thing is that it was MY bed. I didn’t pass out on someone’s couch, piss on it, flip the cushion, then head out for the Walk-of-Shame trek home hoping nobody notices the smelly wet spot coming from under their ass. 

Drunk bed wetting seems way too common. My roommate did it relentlessly. So much, in fact, that not only did all of my other roommates and I know that the washer/dryer was off limits for Saturday and Sunday mornings, but his girlfriend actually started setting alarms for him to get up in the middle of the night to go pee. She was sick and tired of getting woken up to so a spontaneous golden shower every weekend. I think she even bought a rubber mattress pad for him. Yeah, THAT bad.

But my roommate isn’t the only one I know who has done it. Some of my friends’ hookups. Other friends have done it in drawers. My friend ruined 2 phones in two nights because of piss. Hell, one girl even shit somewhere one time! But nothing tops the guy who passed out on our porch, lost his shoe, pissed his pants, refused to believe he was at the wrong house, and then walked home….shoeless, piss-pantsed, and in the wrong direction of campus. (Best part: we saw him the next Monday at the dining hall and he DEFINITELY remembered us. Classic. By the way, you owe us a new stool you Dick)

The problem I have with (my fellow) Bed Wetters is that they don’t stay in their own bed. They piss everywhere. Futons, couches, floors, a drawer, MY PORCH! And they don’t own up to it. They flip the cushion, sneak out and then deny, deny, deny. If you’re gonna piss all over my furniture and ruin my already hand-me-down semen covered futon, at least help my clean it up. Don’t blame it on the dog I don’t have, say “it was like that before I slept there,” or just tell me there isn’t piss on my cushion. There is fucking piss on my cushion. And I can see the wet spot on your pants. 

So please, try to squeeze one out before you go to bed, set a few alarms, put on your rubber pants or sleep in the shower. And if you still end up pissing during your slumber, then grab a can of lysol and get to work, Sprinkles. 

And so, a toast to you, Bed Wetter. Thank you for at least providing us with a funny reason as to why our house smells like crusty urine. But our house still smells like crusty fucking urine. And for that, we fucking hate you.