I took off my clothes and put on my pajamas, the fabric whispering against my diaper’s outer plastic. “Chris, time for bed,” called Dad from upstairs. “Just don’t ask too often.” She sat down to watch TV. “They told me,” she said, apparently unexcited. “Umm, Mom and Dad said I could ask you to change me?” “So, you’re back in diapers now,” she remarked. As I played with my Legos on the living room floor in front of the TV, my thirteen-year-old sister Sarah walked by. The diapers filled my pants out, and they crinkled whenever I moved. I’d dreamed of being able to wear diapers without having to hide it, and now my dream had come true. It felt strange, wearing diapers instead of underwear under my pants, but it was exciting too. It’s almost bedtime, and tomorrow’s a school day.” Mom dusted her powdered hands off against each other and said, “All right, Chris, put your pants and shoes back on, and go finish playing with your Legos.
Then she flattened the front of the diaper against my groin and fastened it with the tapes. She sprinkled powder all over the places that would soon be once more perpetually covered by diapers, and spread the powder with her hand. She opened up the diaper and said, “OK, scoot back and lie down.” When I did, she slid the back end of the diaper under me with my excited cooperation. Mom had gotten some baby powder from another dresser drawer. I hate when my shoelaces tangle when I’m in a hurry. “All right,” said Mom, “take off your shoes, pants and underpants and come sit on your bed.” And if my friends were really my friends, they’d stay my friends no matter what. The kids at school would tease me, but I thought I could take it. What would happen if the other kids at school found out about it? What would my friends say? My mind found ways to rationalize everything. That would be embarrassing, but who would see me? Only people I didn’t know. “When we go out, we’ll be bringing along a diaper bag for you, and your father may have to change you in public restrooms.” My sister? Well, of course she’d find out about this, if my parents hadn’t already told her. I’m sure she’s gotten very good at changing diapers from her babysitting.” “In between those times,” she went on, “you’ll have to ask one of us if you need to be changed, and that includes your sister. “You’ll be changed, or at least checked, in the morning, at noon, in the afternoon, and at bedtime.” That limited my options, but it was fine with me. “If we do catch you using a toilet, it’s back to underwear for you, and we’ll never make this offer again.” You must use your diapers for everything, both number one and number two. “Before you say yes,” Mom said, holding the diaper, “you have to know what it means. We can give your underwear away to Goodwill.
“You want me to wear those at night?” I asked, my eyes wide in amazement.ĭad answered, “No, we want you to wear them all the time. “Pharmacies in our area sell these for children with bedwetting problems … and children like you,” she said. It looked bigger than the diapers I liked to put on at night. Mom took one of the diapers out and showed it to me. There were diapers in my underwear drawer.Īs had happened when Dad had shown me the diaper he had found in my closet, I was too shocked to speak for what seemed like minutes. The first thing I saw was Mom, holding open my underwear drawer so that I could see inside. I was the last one up to my room, because my parents had such long legs compared to mine. We just have to show you something first.” “You’ll be right back to them in a minute. “But I have to put my Legos away,” I protested. “Don’t worry, dear, you’re not in trouble. If you had your choice, if nobody would know, would you wear diapers just to bed, or all the time?” “Is it because they help keep your bed dry?” Perhaps it was something in his voice, the total lack of anything threatening, but I answered, “Yes.”
“Do you like to wear these?” he asked me again. My father held up a disposable baby diaper that he’d found in my closet.