After writing a shaky black 15 on my pull-up, I got back up to observe the pyjama options to choose from for the next step. Of course, since I was going to stop bedwetting at fifteen it hardly seemed worth it to go back to between ten and then... but on the other hand, only wetting the bed for a few years could make things easier on me in my new life.
But then, going all the way down to a toddler could be nice. I could be the youngest sibling instead of the oldest, with brothers and sisters to look after and spoil me.
Or, I could choose a childish set of pyjamas and join the throng of my siblings between five and ten. I would fit right in with them and get to grow up alongside them, instead of as the oldest sibling with an age gap.
I feel the materials of each with my fingers - the sleeper was nice, fuzzy, and soft. I'd be comfortable sleeping in it. The kiddish pyjamas had changed under my gaze - they showed different patterns intermittently, sometimes Bluey, sometimes Paw Patrol, or Cars, or Fireman Sam. The possibilities were as endless as a child's imagination. And then there was the theme set for the oldest group. Like the children's set, it varied in design - right now it showed the logo of my favourite sports team.
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