By Wildsey A.K.A. Mikey
At around age 6 or so I started to wet the bed. My parents just sort of
ignored it although my mother would have to change the sheets almost
every day. I don't know if I consciously wanted to be put back in
diapers at that time or not, but I did know that I hated the wet beds.
I had been wetting the bed and my parents had been ignoring it for quite
some time when we went to some friends house for a weekend. My father
and this man had been friends ever since elementary school and our
families were close enough that I thought of and addressed him as Uncle
Steve and his wife as Aunt Sue. Their children were actually closer to
me and my sister than our blood cousins.
I guess my parents had told them of my bedwetting and I was aware that
their younger daughter, who was my age, also wet the bed. The first
night there Sue was in charge of putting the kids to bed and their two
girls (their sons were older) and myself and my sister were to be first.
The girls were hustled into the room where they would be staying and I
was given a sleeping bag in the boys room.
When Sue left with the girls I got into my PJ's and crawled into the
sleeping bag. I remember the PJ's I had were like a Cub's uniform with a
snap waist but without feet. It even had the Cubbies patch on the left
breast. I had just gotten settled back into the sleeping bag when Aunt
Sue came back into the room carrying a small bundle and closed the door.
She sat down on the floor beside and laid the things down by my head.
She asked me how I was and if I was sleepy then told me that she would
finish getting me ready for bed.
At that point I remember looking over at what she had laid down as she
unzipped my sleeping bag and opened it back up. All I saw at first was a
bundle of white cloth and a container of Johnson's baby powder. It did
not occur to me until she pulled off my PJ bottoms that it could be
diapers. I knew that Wendy wore them but never figured that I would. I
guess I started to panic or something because the next thing she stopped
and put her hand on my chest. Real softly she told me that she was going
to make sure my sleeping bag stayed nice and dry and that diapers were
the best way to do that. She took the cloth bundles and unfolded the
diapers and then lifted my up by my legs and slid them under me. Then
she sprinkled alittle powder over my tummy and crotch before pulling the
diaper up between my legs.
I remember how wonderful they felt as she pinned them on tightly. Very
cool but very thick between my legs. The whole time she was pinning them
I could not look at her, I just kept looking at the plastic baby pants
that had been under the diaper pile. When she picked up the plastic
pants and shook them out that was a wonderful sound and some old
instinct inside me made me pick up my feet and hold them out for her to
slip the baby pants on me.
They went on and fit great! After she had them up she put my PJ bottoms
back on me and snapped them up. I hadn't had PJ's snapped on me since my
mother had stopped dressing me for bed a year ago! It was really great!
I think that I just laid in the sleeping bag for an hour after she
turned out the lights and left just feeling the diaper and turning
around in the sleeping bag. I even got up for awhile and walked around
the room. When I heard the other boys coming back to the room though I
jumped back in sleeping bag. I think it was a false alarm but I was
nonetheless soon asleep. The next morning I woke up after everyone else.
My mother sent my sister up to the room to wake me up and get me
downstairs for breakfast. I jumped up and was halfway down the stairs
before I realized that I was still wearing the diaper and that it was
very wet. Kind of stuck and being yelled at for taking so long, I went
down to the table anyway. I sat there all the way through breakfast
without anyone saying anything about my obvious (to me) diapers.
As I got up after breakfast I remember that my PJ's were little wet on
the seat from where the plastic pants had leaked little. My mother
noticed and took me aside right away. She patted my behind, noticed the
wetness and the diapers that were the cause of it, and told me to go
upstairs and wait for her in the bathroom. I ran upstairs crying,
figuring that I was in big trouble or something, and she followed me up.
She ran the tub and undressed me, leaving my wet PJ's on the floor but
taking away the plastic pants and diapers when she left.
I heard her out in the hallway handing the diapers and things to Aunt
Sue and telling her, a little crossly I thought, that "We do not handle
it that way". I really didn't know how to tell her that I preferred
Sue's way of handling it to hers, especially since I thought that I
still had a spanking coming! I never did get to wear diapers again as a
child, at least not real ones, there were some times that I tried
makeshift expedients but I never did recapture that feeling until much