The wet bed.

The wet bed.

I made myself a snowball; it was as perfect as it could be. I was thinking of keeping it as a pet, and I would let it sleep with me. I put on its pajamas and made a pillow for its head. When I looked back, I saw that it had run away, but not before wetting the bed. That's what my mother said. Then my farther took me to the woodshed again. I could not complain there was no one else I can blame.