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 later.