Hi. My name is Marc Santelli. At the time of this story my friends and I had just finished eighth grade. The year was nineteen sixty-three, before the world became as complicated and dangerous as it is for today’s teenagers.

My friends, Billy and Freddie, and I had been sitting around all afternoon discussing summer vacation. Billy and I had been best friends practically all of our lives and Freddie had recently been added to our group. We were temperamentally suited to each other, but what really drew us together was that we all wore diapers- all day, every day. Freddie had moved into our town about five months earlier already wearing diapers. I had done some pretty stupid things which Billy eventually joined in on and now he and I were working off an almost two-year long diaper punishment.

It was funny, though, the longer the punishment went, the less it felt like punishment. I was getting very used to diapers. Even though my punishment had started only ten weeks before, it was getting difficult for me to remember life without them. Part of Billy’s and my punishment had included two weeks with no pants at home, no hiding out in the house, and no being alone. This meant that we had no choice but to be seen walking through the neighborhood in just our diapers and plastic pants as we went back and forth to each other’s houses. Eventually, this didn’t seem so bad because people stopped noticing us and, therefore, stopped making fun of us. In any case, after that phase of our punishment ended, I pretty much decided to stop wearing pants at home anyway- they just felt too hot and confining. Freddie had told us some time ago that that was what he did; Billy also wanted to, but he was too scared to do it in front of his parents and older brother. For the time being, he did it when he was alone in his room or the house, although his brother nearly caught him a couple of times.

July had arrived and we were getting more than a little bored after three complete weeks of summer vacation when Freddie made an exciting proposition. His family was planning a sixteen-day trip to California to visit San Francisco and Los Angeles, including Disneyland, and he suggested that we might be able to go with them. I immediately got excited but Billy brought me back down to earth.

"Gee, that’s really a great idea but I don’t think my parents will be able to pay for a vacation like that for me. You know, you’re a lot richer than me and Marc."

Once again, I didn’t seem to be very good at noticing the obvious. Of course, Freddie’s family had more money than ours. They lived on the edge of town in a six bedroom house on a one acre lot. Billy and I lived in a typical postwar development of two and three bedroom houses on small lots. Also, Freddie’s parents had two cars and we only had one family car each. My heart fell as I realized that Billy was right. But Freddie wouldn’t give up on the idea.

"It won’t be that expensive, really. My mom hates to fly so we are taking the train and my parents say that we kids are traveling for one-third the normal fare. Also, when we go on vacation, my parents always get two rooms. It won’t cost much to get extra beds put in. My parents have already said that it’s OK for both of you to come. I’ll ask my dad to figure out how much it would cost."

Freddie went on to say that arrangements were already being made that included Billy and me. If our parents didn’t agree, the Zymmers were even ready to talk to them to tell them that it would be no trouble.

"Yeah, but what about all the diapers?" Billy continued, "The three of us are going to make a mountain in that amount of time and your brother still wears nighttime diapers. I don’t think our parents will let us stop wearing them just to go on vacation."

What Billy didn’t say was that he would miss his diapers if he couldn’t wear them for that long. I was beginning to feel the same way as him, but to go to California I would put up with it.

"Well, actually, it’s going to be worse than that," Freddie said. "My little brother, Timmy, is back in daytime diapers. When school let out for vacation, he asked my mom and dad if he could wear diapers all the time like me. Some of his friends already know and it doesn’t seem to bother them. He’s really a lot bolder about it than I am; he’s already walking around the house in just diapers and plastic pants even when his friends are there. He thinks it’s going to be cool to be the only seventh grader in diapers next year. But that’s not the point, my mom says that she has the diaper situation already figured out. Please, at least ask your parents. Pleeeease…"

But Billy came up with a better idea, if Freddie’s parents would agree.

"I think it would be better if your parents called our parents directly and asked them if they would give us permission to go with you. That way our parents would think it was their idea and we wouldn’t have to beg them," Billy reasoned.

"Yeah," Freddie agreed, "that’s a great idea. I think my parents will do it. But, remember, don’t let on that you know anything about this. You’ll have to act surprised when my parents call tonight."

It wasn’t until after 8:00 that Mr. Zymmers called. My dad answered the phone and I could hardly contain my nervousness over what his answer would be. He listened for a while, made short comments, and then ended by saying that he would have to talk to my mother about it first. I was crushed. Whenever he said that "he had to talk" to my mother about stuff he meant that he was going to say no. I figured my dad was going to hang up, but instead he called my mother to the phone.

"Mrs. Zymmers would like to speak to you about an idea she and her husband have." I think he said it that way so that I wouldn’t know what the conversation was really about.

My mother’s conversation was a lot longer and she seemed to be agreeing with Mrs. Zymmers. She finished the conversation by saying, "Thank you so much for the offer, but my husband and I have to talk about it… Oh, I see, yes… That makes sense… The reservations would have to be confirmed soon. Can we call you back later tonight?… Very good, thank you, good bye."

I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want to stop watching television because I was afraid that that would look suspicious. So I decided to wait it out. For the first time in many weeks I was conscious that I was peeing my diaper out of nervousness.

"Dear, there’s some coffee left over from dinner. Would you like to join me in another cup?" my mother asked my dad.

I knew that what my mom really wanted was for my dad to go to the kitchen so that they could have a private conversation. They went into the kitchen where I couldn’t hear them. I was dying from anxiety. It felt like it took them forever to come back out but in reality they had only spent about ten minutes there. It’s a good thing that they didn’t go too much longer, my diaper couldn’t have taken much more wetting.

"Marc, please shut off the TV for a few minutes we have something to talk to you about," my dad said.

As far as I was concerned, this was a bad sign. Usually it was my dad who delivered bad news. I wasn’t going to go- I just knew it. I shut off the TV and sat on the couch, a worried look on my face.

"Now, you don’t need to look so glum," my dad began, "that call wasn’t from anyone saying that you had done something wrong."

"Oh," was all I could manage.

"Actually, it was Mr. & Mrs. Zymmers wanting to know if you could join them in their vacation to California. Your mother and I have just discussed their proposal. You know, what they’re suggesting is very expensive. I’m sure you realize that they can afford things we can’t…"

Tears of disappointment were beginning to form in my eyes when my mother interrupted.

"Now, Peter, get to the point," she said. "Stop toying with Marc."

"OK," my father said, "you have our permission to go."

I jumped up and hugged my parents and thanked them. I was delirious with joy.

"By the way," he continued, "there is one more thing. Whose idea was it to have the Zymmers call directly instead of you asking us?"

I was about to protest ignorance of what he was talking about when he looked me straight in the eye and said "Don’t try to kid an insurance man. I’ve heard every story in the book."

"It was Billy’s," I admitted.

"Well, that was very clever of him," my dad chuckled. "Oh, by the way, the Hastons agreed to let Billy go, too."

"Really?" I exclaimed, "I’ve got to go talk to him right away." With that I ran out to go to Billy’s house.

"I wonder when he’s going to notice that he’s in just his diapers and plastic pants, and a very wet one at that?" my dad asked my mom.

I heard him but decided that I couldn’t wait to see Billy; it was getting dark anyway- I hoped the wetness wouldn’t show. One of my neighborhood friends saw me run past and asked me what I had done to deserve another "no pants" punishment. I told him that it wasn’t a punishment and continued my run to Billy’s house. I was too caught up in the moment to notice the really funny look he gave me. (Only later that night as I was going to sleep did I think about what I had said. He must have thought I was a real jerk. I told him that I wasn’t being punished, therefore he must have thought that I was strutting around the neighborhood in my diapers and plastic pants in order to be seen. When was I going to learn to consider the consequences of my words?)

Mr. Haston opened the door for me and commented that obviously my parents had said yes to my going to California with the Zymmers. When I asked how he knew that, he said, "I’m just guessing, but why else would you cross the whole neighborhood in just your diapers and plastic pants?"

Billy’s older brother, Tony, came into the kitchen to get a drink. For the first time I felt myself blush with embarrassment at being seen dressed the way I was.

"Well, I hear the diaper gang is going to California," he said. "I hope that the train puts on an extra baggage car, otherwise the other passengers won’t have room for their luggage once you guys get all your diapers loaded on board," he chuckled.

His dad tried to hide a smile in reaction to what Tony had said.

"Billy’s in his room," Mr. Haston said to me.

I ran upstairs and knocked on his door. "It’s me," I said.

He opened the door a crack and quickly pulled me into the room. He was wearing only his diapers and plastic pants.

"I wish you wouldn’t be so mysterious about not wearing pants at home. Why don’t you just tell your parents that you would like to go around in just your diapers and plastic pants," I chastised.

"I just can’t. Anyway, let’s talk about California. I still can’t believe our parents said yes. This is going to be so cool," he exclaimed.

For the next hour we talked about all kinds of plans; I then said that I had to get home. We promised to talk some more the following day.

As I was leaving Mrs. Haston was watching TV.

"Would you come in here a minute, please, Marc?" she asked. "I guess you’re all excited about the trip,"

"Yes, ma’am," I answered.

I didn’t know what else to say and she seemed to be hesitating, too. In a quieter voice she said, "Marc, I don’t want to embarrass you or make you break any promises you made, but do you know why Billy is acting the way he is? What I mean is that we know that he prefers lounging in his room in just diapers and plastic pants because we can hear him putting his pants on whenever we knock on the door. Oh, dear, I’m not saying this very clearly, am I?" she concluded.

"I think I know what you’re talking about," I answered. "Billy thinks that you would be disappointed in him if you knew that he wanted to go around the house in just his diapers. You won’t tell him I told you, will you?" I added in a worried voice.

"No, dear. And thank you."

As I was leaving, Mr. Haston and Tony were playing cards at the kitchen table.

"And there goes Diaper Boy on his lonely mission trying to get home without being seen," he teased.

"Tony," Mr. Haston warned, "remember what we said about teasing Billy or Marc."

"Yes, sir," he answered blushing.