If I Can Make It Till Tomorrow I'll Be Fine

I can-- just barely-- understand an eleven-year old who has to sleep in Depends every night.

I can understand a certain measure of rudeness and social ineptness in children who have a less than desirable background.

I am beginning to understand a picky palate. (sort of.)

But I cannot understand an eleven-year-old who would rather wet her pants than interrupt her activity to go to the bathroom. Every. Single. Day.

A four-year-old, maybe. An eleven-year-old, no.