I'm an average man with a more or less average life. But if there's one consolation out of this grueling excuse, it is my sweet boy Matthew. He made life seem more special when he came to our world. He's our bounty of joy and pride. And every night, my wife and I make tuck him early in bed just after we put down his favorite Mark Twain adventures. But whenever he wakes up, he'll soon find his way into our room and share the bed with us. There's nothing wrong with it, only every waking moment of my life, I find myself drenched in his sea of yellow fluid, Matthew's disgusting urine. I thought that the most dreadful day in a daddy's life is changing the diapers, until Matthew's
bedwetting scare. I love him dearly, but I can't help but lock our doors in the middle of the night. Will that make me a bad daddy?
