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2011
2011 Survey Questions
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My cunning plan is to clean my teeth before my nappy change. This appears to work OK for me. Unless my nappy is already maxed out, in which case I have to be careful in case a puddle has accumulated in my plastic pants while I thought I was just polishing my molars. -
In keeping with the great Australian tradition of “nothing gets done in January” I’m not entirely sure where this week went. I’ve got a load of cloth nappies to get dry from the last few days but I’m back in disposables today. I have to be. The next lot of house guests arrive tomorrow. It’s a long weekend (Australia Day): the last hurrah for the long Australian Christmas/New Year shutdown. For those of you unfamiliar with Australia day, here’s the Oznl quick guide to it: Australia Day (compound noun), pronounced:“oz-stray-yuh-day”: a national holiday commemorating the date the British first fleet sailed into the yet-to-be-named-thusly Sydney Cove to dump some Prisoners Of Her Majesty, the place being considered sufficiently far enough away from England for them to be unlikely to swim back. It is celebrated by the nation dividing itself into two opposing teams: the overwhelmingly-larger but politically inactive “team A” spends the long hot summer public holiday barbecuing animals, loudly transforming alcohol into urine and/or watching cricket. They generally have only the haziest notion of why they don’t have to go to work this day. Australian flags may be worn, sat on or otherwise inadvertently desecrated. The other much smaller-but-noisier team B loudly despises colonisation from their typically privileged vantage points conferred to them by it. Principally they are upset at the “loss” of the short, brutish stone-age tribal nomadic hunter/gatherer lifestyle that colonisation displaced despite neither themselves nor their immediate ancestors ever having had to endure it. Associated virtue signalling is conducted using a range of colonial technologies as nobody can remember how to read the smoke signals. Australian flags may be burned. In the background, various levels of Government hand out honours and awards to the utter apathy of both teams. The day is invariably followed by January 27th. More inclined to “Team A”, I have a cow and a representative sample of what a brewery does in my refrigerator for the long weekend. Friends and family will be arriving tomorrow. Beer will be turned into urine but I have a plan for that. Anyway, back on topic. Changing out of a fairly whiffy wet cloth night nappy, I’d managed to deal with #2 in the usual fashion (but only just, there was kind of a rush at the end. After a quick rinse of the relevant areas with the hand shower, I touched up some nooks and crannies with sudocrem before grabbing an Air Active which should last me the day. As I was literally fastening the last tape I suddenly wet myself a little. This is by now incredibly easy to do, usually requiring not so much intent to pee but a lapse in an intent NOT to. To be honest, finishing a nappy change with a slightly used nappy isn’t an uncommon occurrence. Even assuming I do it seems that on most days it would be rare for me to be completely dry for more than a minute or three afterwards. At my morning changes, the great “turning on the bathroom tap to brush my teeth” event usually puts paid to dry underwear no matter how empty I think my bladder is. It’s not incontinence. I could have chosen to remain dry, at least for a while but it would be uncomfortable and there just doesn’t seem to be any point in doing so. It’s all going in my nappy sooner or later. I don’t mind being wet. In fact I hardly notice being wet at all now (as long as I’m not leaking) and I know through painfully-acquired experience that nappies work better with frequent intermittent showers as opposed to occasional monsoonal deluges. It’s better just to let it happen and not think about it. The question is though “What is going on in my mind that when confronted with a clean dry nappy covering my loins I immediately sense some urge to wet in it?” I was a certain as I can be these days that everything in my bladder had been successfully left behind in the cloth nappy I’d just removed. It often seems to be lately that I’m taping up a “fresh” nappy that already has a visible wet spot on it or on cloth days, pulling up plastic pants trying to avoid dragging my fingers over the warm wet spot that’s just appeared at the front of what would otherwise have been a clean and dry cloth nappy. What is it about a nappy change that seems to taunt my bladder into more or less immediately making its mark on the successor? On the upside, with the house to myself (beloved having returned to work) and the heat already fierce, I didn’t bother with clothes. I spent the morning padding around in a slightly-and-increasingly damp Active Air under white milky plastic pants and nothing else. Because I could. All I needed to remember was that whilst I own down to the water’s edge, the waterway itself is not my backyard. There are boats. Boats with people in them. My big picture windows work both ways. If you smash all this together, surprisingly unfortunate things can happen. Something to keep in mind. Next week I will do something. -
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By ABDL_Cammy · Posted
HI All I'm looking for a story that used to be hosted on a site called "ABDL Story Forum". At least, I think that's what it was called. The forum doesn't exist anymore. It's called "I Was A Teenage Baby (NOT The one by Smiley)". It was about a boy aged 13 who was infantalised by his mother and then their neighbour. I haven't been able to find it since early 2022, but it's stuck in my mind and google either gives me no answer, or only the one that was by Smiley. And I'm not interested in that particular story. Thanks
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