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A place for the loved ones of diaper lovers to ask questions and seek support and understanding. (Moderated to prevent abuse and attacks)


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    • He stays asleep when he is carried upstairs When he wakes up, he rubs his eyes and doesn't recognize this green room so he calls out: "Mommy, Daddy. Where I am?"
    • He walks with her across the street. He thought he would get shorts, but he won't dare ask.
    • Daniel drives and they reach home.  He notices Benny is still asleep, so he unbuckles him from his car seat and carries him upstairs and puts him in his crib so he can keep sleeping.   They have a surprise for him: They had his nursery painted green while they were gone. They also had a rocking chair put in. Their neighbors Beth & Elliott helped to coordinate this while they were gone. They also put up a new bed in the other room for the big boys. Benny's old bed in in the other room, so now they can have a better place to sleep when they stay other than the couch. They stay over a lot.    Daddy puts Benny to bed in his crib, and covers him with a blanket.  The rest of the family brings the bags from the car and they come in and rest downstairs. 
    • She leads him out of the exit, and across the street to her apartment.  His diaper still on display.  She didn't put his shorts on because everyone in town knows about her diaper boys and he should get used to other people seeing his diaper.
    • A couple of further quick notes on another week navigated from within my infantile underpants... my wife's baking show once again lamented that "Nobody likes a soggy bottom" on a flan or a cheesecake or whatever, which caused her tilt a glance my way, because I was hanging out in an Incontrol BeDry Night that I had been in for 18 hours at that point, and it was heavy. It acted like a high-end super diaper should, though, and did not leak into my clothing at any point, no matter how much I sat on it in various locations, walked around, climbed stairs, etc. I probably could have slept in it but I was by that point getting tired of sitting in a pond.  Earlier, I was regretting my diaper choice, because my daughter had texted me and asked if I could pick her up at work at about 8 PM, and I thought to myself.... "Hmmm, you've spent the whole day in this diaper, it's pretty bulky... should you change it?"  But then the devil on my shoulder said, "You're not even going to get out of your car! Don't worry about it. Why change now - shower and change when you go to bed. You spent $4 on this diaper and you know it has a few hours left in it... it's comfy...." The devil won. At least I put jeans on, rather than wearing track pants... fast-forward to my arrival at her place of work, when I get a text from her that she had already left with one of her friends who has a car, to go to her house for a quick visit, and why don't I just go over there and pick her up? I can't say, at that point, "Because I'm wearing a huge soggy diaper...". Well, I guess I could have said that, but... I still have some dignity in me, I guess. And I thought, fine, I'll just sit on their driveway and doom-scroll the news feed. But the Universe had plans for me, as it always seems to... I'm good friends with my daughter's coworker's dad. And his wife saw me sitting on their driveway and texted me to "Come on in and have a beer..." Sh*t.  I like beer. I just don't like going into someone's house and hanging out while wearing a super diaper at >70% of it's capacity. AND, an additional wrinkle, one that worked both for, and against, what the Universe wanted to see play out, is this: I'm pretty sure these people know I wear diapers. So, on the one hand, that factor removed the "Oh God what if they find out I wear diapers" concern, but on the other hand, it was the genesis of another anxiety: "They know I wear diapers so this huge diaper is going to be obvious to them... their eyes are not going to skip over it as anomalous data, they're going to mentally raise an eyebrow and think, yup, diaper."  Regardless, I was backed into a corner. Declining would have been weird. So I untucked my shirt, left my light spring jacket on, went in and sat at their bar-height kitchen table, sipping a beer on a stool, unable to completely close my legs. Sigh.  I got home and planned to change then, but my daughter beat me once again, this time commandeering our ensuite shower, which is what left me hanging out with my wife in a diaper that looked like it had a blower running under it, keeping it inflated. Then came the soggy bottom comment.   
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