No More Wet Beds!

Previously

…I heard Mom’s soft footsteps outside my door, then Dad’s low voice. “Shhh, he’s asleep.” Their voices were a comforting lullaby. I knew they were there, just outside, hoping, just like I was. Hoping for a dry night. Hoping for a mission success. My last conscious thought was of the fizzy lemonade taste, still lingering on my tongue. It was the taste of hope. The taste of a new beginning. And then, I was gone, off to dreamland, the Special Potion already at work, a silent guardian of my dry, fluffy marshmallow bed. The mission had begun.