I mulled over whether to talk to Betty about it for a long time, but couldn't make up my mind. This indecision kept me awake, even past my usual bedtime. Betty played on her phone for a while, yawned, and then stretched, showing off a graceful curve. I was on my phone too, but my mind was elsewhere.
"Honey, why aren't you sleeping yet?" Betty snuggled up to me, wrapping my arm in a soft embrace.
"Can't sleep, what's up?" I replied, keeping my tone cool as I continued to stare at my phone.
"Oh, nothing much. I usually wait for you to fall asleep before I go back to stay with Michael, just so you don't miss my company and have trouble sleeping," Betty said softly and sweetly.
"Oh, then go ahead, I'll fall asleep soon enough. I'm not a kid..." I caught a hint of jealousy in my own voice as I spoke.
"No, I'll stay with you. Your sleep is important, and you've been so tired..." Betty's eyes flickered with concern as she spoke.
"Betty, there's something we need to talk about..." Seeing the concern in her eyes and her care for me softened my heart, and I decided to speak up. If something irreversible happened later, I'd regret it forever.
"What is it?" Betty looked puzzled.
"Well... Michael is almost 14, and you know, boys his age are entering... um... puberty... Should I give him some guidance? "
"It might be easier coming from me, being a man and all. I'm worried he might get on the wrong path." I stuttered out my thoughts, keeping it vague. I couldn't tell Betty about the video of her and Michael sharing a bed.
"Oh, that. I understand. Most of the kids I teach are his age, all going through puberty. That's probably why so many boys anonymously send love letters and admiring notes to your wife..." Betty spoke calmly, but a flicker of unease crossed her face at the end of her sentence, which I caught clearly.
"Right, you've been teaching kids his age, so you probably know better than I do."
"Do we need to provide any psychological guidance for Michael? Do you need my help?" I asked cautiously, my eyes glued to my phone, afraid to give anything away.
"Michael is a good kid, and he's grown up enough to know right from wrong. Kids these days don't really need psychological guidance. If he's a bad kid, no amount of guidance will help; if he's a good kid, he won't be led astray by temptation, right?" Betty pondered for a moment before responding.
Although she didn't agree to provide psychological guidance for Michael, her words made sense. When I was a teenager, fathers rarely intervened, and I turned out fine without any guidance.
"That's good then... Ah..." I felt a bit deflated that my words hadn't raised any suspicions in Betty.
"Actually, I've known for a while that Michael has entered puberty, and it's the peak of his sexual urges." Just as I decided not to say anything more and closed my eyes to sleep, Betty spoke up again.
As she spoke, Betty slowly got out of bed, apparently ready to go next door to stay with Michael for the night. There was nothing I could do; I couldn't sleep, and Betty couldn't keep waiting.
"How did you know?" When I heard Betty's words, I couldn't help but tense up.
How did she know Michael was in the throes of raging hormones?
Could it be that she noticed his little nighttime antics?
Was she pretending to sleep just to let Michael have his way?
I waited for Betty's answer.
"Ha, because a couple of days ago when I was doing Michael's laundry, I found a ton of stains in his underwear, and even the ones he changed into today had them. That means he's pretty much having wet dreams every night..." Betty walked to the door, placed her hand on the doorknob, then turned back to explain to me.
Although she kept her expression as bland as usual while explaining, she still seemed a bit embarrassed by the end, sticking her tongue out at me before quickly opening the door and 'escaping'.
With the sound of the door slamming shut, I lay on the bed, stunned. Betty's last remark was quite bold. But then again, from an outsider's perspective, it wasn't a big deal.
After all, I had my share of wet dreams when I was younger, though not every night. Usually, it happened when I had risqué dreams after letting my imagination run wild before sleep.
As for Michael, the kid having wet dreams nearly every night meant two things.
First, the kid's libido is off the charts, and his testicles are working overtime, producing a ton of sperm, which just spills out uncontrollably.
Second, the kid's probably fantasizing or dreaming naughty every night, which explains the frequent incidents. I'd rather hope it's the first scenario; at least that means he's not a bad kid. If it's the second, then he might really be heading down the wrong path.
As Michael's current mom, Betty naturally takes care of his daily needs, and noticing a teenager's wet dreams is normal.
When I had them, my mom used to point at my underwear and say, "See that? That's a sign you're growing up..." It's a rite of passage for a boy's mother, and the first reaction is usually a pure thought that her son is maturing.