About a month ago I got a call after school from my daughter’s teacher.  She began the conversation by saying “I just wanted to call you, I’m sure Elise has already told you...”  As a parent, these are perhaps the most dreaded words uttered by anyone who has come into contact with your children. 

We take great risks every day letting our children go to school to fend for themselves, uncensored in the great wide world without parental supervision.  What family secrets will they reveal?  Will they pick their nose and eat it?  Swear?  Or (gasp!) forget to wash their hands after going to the bathroom?  So, you can imagine the sheer terror that enveloped me when I heard the teacher’s voice on the other end of my phone.  Of course my darling daughter didn’t say anything besides the cursory “hi” and reply “good” to my token “How was school?” question when she walked in the door.   I was clueless.  Without getting into too much detail, it seems my daughter wet her pants during the all-school mass she had attended with her class.  The poor thing didn’t want to say anything, so she tried to "hold it" (without success). 

After hanging up the phone I had to stop and think of how I wanted to approach discussing this “incident” with my daughter.  Ever the wise parent that I am, I decided this was a perfect opportunity to let my parenting skills shine and use this moment to bond with my daughter.  I too, peed my pants in the first grade.  It has always been a source of shame for me, but I believe I have overcome this adversity to become a productive member of society.  I wanted to show my child there is life after peeing your pants in elementary school. 

I approached my daughter after much thought and consideration and asked her if there was anything she wanted to talk about, maybe something that happened at school perhaps.  At that moment, she knew I knew.  Immediately she covered her eyes and said she didn’t want to talk about it.  Taking this as my cue to divulge my deepest, darkest secret, I began to tell her about my own “incident”.  All the while, making sure to emphasize the fact that she handled herself with more grace and dignity; she was a much better pants-wetter than her mother. 

After hugging my daughter, I felt we had embarked on the next stage of our mother/daughter journey.  We faced the wetting-the-pants issue head on and strengthened our relationship in the process.  Now I have to brace myself for puberty.