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Mommies and Daddies
For the grown-ups to discuss ABDL topics. No babies unless you're looking for a 'pankin!
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I’ve said it before: nappies and bicycles go together like anchovies and ice-cream. Ok, upon reflection I’m not sure if I DID say that but I’ve certainly thought it. Whilst it’s not a topic of high rotation (did you see what I did there?), the oznl bicycle is still regularly dragged out of our garden shed-of-abandonment in order to menace the mobility-scooteratti of our sleepy seaside geriatric departure lounge. These jaunts are conducted in nappies because that’s how I roll (Did you see what I did there? Again?) I’ve definitely said before that the Rearz “Active Air” is the least-worst nappy for a 15km bike ride: even if its structural integrity fails out on the wide open road, all of the pee-soaked debris may be found in roughly the same place upon my return. I’ve subsequently decided that a wet “DPF Velcro diaper with extra padding”, whilst possibly not the worst nappy to take cycling, would certainly be a finalist. To be fair, the climate must shoulder its share of the blame. Unseasonable showery weather (it’s supposed to be the ‘dry’ season here) has been plaguing our days for weeks. I’d intended to duck out for some quick exercise early on in the day (when I would be relatively dry on the inside) but continual heavy showers made the roads treacherous and the riding miserable. Later in the afternoon however the sun burst through the clouds in time to set. Deciding to carpe what was left of the diem, I headed to the shed and retrieved my iron horse. It would have been around 4pm and so I was by then, fairly wet. Not catastrophically so and it wasn’t going to be a long ride anyway: maybe 10km. Thusly clad in my old “DPF diaper with extra padding” along with a Babykins cloth booster beneath Babykins encased white plastic pants I felt suitably sartorially elegant for the journey. I mean, I wore shorts over the top of that but yes but I was no Cadell Evans. I was no more than 400 meters down the road when I realised that the left leg of my shorts suddenly felt a lot cooler than the right leg. For people like us, that can mean evaporative cooling. Still, nil desperandum, a slight damp patch on my bum would be neither here nor there in the scheme of things. I rode on. At about the 1.5km mark my left thigh seemed VERY wet so I pulled over to investigate. My left buttock and thigh of my shorts was soaked. The definition of “damp patch” had clearly been reached and breached some hundreds of meters ago. It was not damp. It was wet. I briefly considered turning back but the opportunities for rides had been few lately and the semi-rural bike path down to the beach was largely deserted. My shorts were black (albeit even blacker on one side), the damage was done, the wind would be brisk and the likelihood of being forensically examined by passers-by was close to nil. As far as it was socially and legally possible, I tried to make sure my nappy was tucked inside my leg elastics (it seemed to be). So, I pushed on. It wasn’t like things were going to get any worse. But they did. At about the 3km mark I felt wee running down my left leg. Seriously? I stopped again and confirmed the diagnosis. The left side of my shorts was soaked and I had a wet leg. The wetness had migrated to the front. It looked like I had wet my pants in an unusual spot. The “DPF diaper with extra padding” although having cotton flannelette inner and outer liners relies upon a “poly, cotton, terry” insert for absorbency: at least that’s what their website says. I suspect that when they say “poly”, they mean “polyester”, a hydrophobic material that’s good for wicking but terrible for absorbency. The pedal-cadenced cycle of repeating compression and torque at my crotch had created a kind of washing mangle. The pee that had wicked its way in under compression, promptly wicked its way back out again. A puddle of wee was forming inside my plastic pants and with all of the movement going on, eventually that puddle would drain. It was less that my nappy was overloaded (because it wasn’t) but more that the action of bike riding was wringing it out. I was wearing a kind of sponge. In stark contrast to super absorbent polymers, there was no “one way” chemical locking device to keep the pee in my nappy once it got there. It could get out as easily as it got in. By now I had irredeemably and unmistakably wet pants but the light was fading and the iffy weather had discouraged the usual phalanx of active-wear-clad dragging their oodle-dogs about. “YOLO!” I thought and rode on. After a while, it seemed as though I wasn’t getting any wetter, if for no other reason that my nappy had been comprehensively wrung out. Soon I stood on the foreshore of a beach and surveyed the Neptunian majesty of a rough and spray-swept ocean beneath grey skies. I peed a bit because well, I wasn’t sitting on a bike and so there were no kinks in the hose. I realised it would all probably get squished out again on the way home but really, things couldn’t get any worse (well maybe, my socks were still dry) and it felt nice just to warm the nappy up a bit. The ride home was wet, cool and not particularly comfortable. I decided that my pee-soaked shorts deserved to enjoy the hot shower with me. They were soaked. It could have been far worse. Fate treated me gently in teaching me the folly of wearing a wet DPF Velcro diaper with extra padding on a bicycle but letting me experience the soggy consequences on a dark and gloomy day where tourists were rare and the interest in me minimal. Colour me educated. -
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By astrodiaper · Posted
Currently in Threaded Armor with an old-school Atari Space Invaders pattern. Dry still, I'll likely wet them when I get a moment after getting off work.
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