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Great!  I remember how incredible it was when I transitioned to bedwetting.  

I wet my Little Kings diaper throughout the night and after I got out of bed just 15 minutes ago; I was blessed with a massive mess in my diaper. Instead of WMD (Weapons of Mass Destruction" I have a MMD: Massive Messy Diaper this morning. I am sipping hot coffee while I enjoy the warm, squishy poopie in my diapie. I won't change right away, at least I hope not, i.e., if my potty begins to spread and squish to the front of my diaper or I have a diaper blow-out, I will change right away. My plans, however, are to stay wet and messy while I get my morning exercise. I'll change and get clean, fresh, sweet smelling well before my wife is out of bed. Sooo nice and comforting right now.  I use these emoji's because they best depict how I feel: relieved,my full diaper hugging my perineum, melting with intense psychophysiological pleasure, and my little secret.

Chapter 35: They stepped back out into the sunshine, the cheerful tune from it’s a small world still faintly following them.   Jack blinked a couple times, adjusting back to the brightness.   Then he looked up at Marcus.   “Faster?” he reminded him, a little grin forming.   Marcus laughed. “Yeah, yeah—you didn’t forget that part, huh?”   Jill crossed her arms playfully. “Alright, but not too fast. We’re easing into this.”   Jack nodded very seriously. “Not too fast.”   ⸻   They moved deeper into Magic Kingdom, weaving through crowds and colorful paths until the atmosphere started to shift again.   The buildings changed.   More rustic.   More adventurous.   And then—   A large mountain came into view in the distance.   Jack stopped walking.   “…what’s that?” he asked, pointing.   Marcus followed his finger and smiled. “That is a roller coaster.”   Jack’s eyes widened slightly.   “Roller… coaster?”   Jill crouched beside him. “This one’s called Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. It’s faster than the boat.”   Jack looked back at the mountain again.   Then back at them.   Then back at the mountain.   “…fast?” he asked again, just to be sure.   Marcus nodded. “A little fast. But fun.”   ⸻   Jack thought about it.   You could almost see the gears turning.   He hugged Flopsy a little tighter.   “Mommy go too?” he asked.   Jill smiled. “Right next to you.”   “Daddy?”   “Also right next to you,” Marcus added.   Jack hesitated one more second.   Then nodded.   “…okay.”   ⸻   The line moved quicker than expected, and before long, they were stepping into the ride vehicle.   Jack climbed in between them again, gripping the bar tightly.   “This is the fast one?” he asked, voice a little smaller now.   Marcus nodded. “This is it.”   Jill gently rubbed his arm. “You ready?”   Jack took a breath.   “…ready.”   ⸻   The ride started with a slow climb.   Click.   Click.   Click.   Jack looked around, eyes darting.   “Going up…” he whispered.   Marcus grinned. “That’s how it starts.”   Jill squeezed his hand gently. “You’re doing great.”   ⸻   Then—   The drop.   Not huge—but enough.   Jack gasped, gripping tighter.   “Ahh—!”   The train sped up, turning corners, dipping and swaying along the track.   Wind rushed past them.   The world blurred just enough.   Jack’s fear lasted about two seconds—   Then turned into laughter.   “Again!” he shouted, even though they were still on it.   Marcus laughed loudly. “That’s more like it!”   Jill couldn’t help but laugh too, watching his face light up.   ⸻   By the time the ride slowed and pulled back into the station, Jack was bouncing in his seat.   “That was FAST!” he declared.   Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Too fast?”   Jack shook his head immediately. “No! Good fast!”   Jill smiled warmly. “You handled that really well.”   Jack puffed up just a little with pride.   “I brave,” he said.   Marcus nodded. “Yeah, you are.”   ⸻   As they stepped off, Jack grabbed both their hands without being asked—energy buzzing through him now.   “More fast?” he asked eagerly.   Jill laughed. “Let’s mix it up a little.”   Marcus smirked. “But we’ll definitely keep the fast ones coming.”   Jack grinned.   “Good.”   And just like that— his confidence had grown, his excitement had doubled, and Magic Kingdom felt even bigger than before.   Chapter 36:  After the rush of the roller coaster, the energy shift hit all at once.   Jack slowed down mid-step, his earlier excitement still there—but now mixed with something else.   “Tired… and hungry,” he admitted, rubbing one eye.   Jill smiled knowingly. “That sounds about right.”   Marcus glanced around. “Food break?”   Jack nodded immediately. “Food break.”   ⸻   They made their way through the winding paths of Magic Kingdom, following the scent of something warm and familiar until they found a cozy quick-service spot with shaded seating.   Marcus pointed. “That’ll work.”   Jill agreed. “Perfect.”   ⸻   Once seated, Marcus went to grab food while Jill settled Jack at the table. He sat close to her, Flopsy tucked beside him, still taking in everything around him—but slower now.   Less overwhelmed.   More content.   Marcus returned with a tray—simple, easy food everyone could enjoy.   Jack perked up instantly.   “Food!” he said, much more awake now.   Jill laughed softly. “Told you.”   ⸻   As they started eating, something familiar stirred nearby.   A small wave of excitement again.   Jack noticed it before either of them said anything.   “…characters?” he asked, looking around.   Jill followed his gaze and smiled. “Looks like it.”   ⸻   A couple of Disney characters made their way through the seating area, stopping at tables, waving, posing for photos.   Jack leaned closer to Jill, still a little shy—but not like before.   This time, he peeked.   Curious.   Interested.   ⸻   Then—   He saw him again.   Tigger.   Bouncing, energetic, unmistakable.   Jack’s face lit up instantly.   “Tigger!” he whispered, grabbing Jill’s arm.   Jill smiled. “You wanna say hi again?”   Jack hesitated—but only for a second this time.   Then nodded.   “Yeah…”   ⸻   Tigger made his way over, giving an exaggerated bounce and a playful salute when he recognized Jack.   Jack giggled softly.   Not as shy this time.   More excited.   Marcus stood, pulling out his phone. “Round two?”   Jill helped Jack stand beside Tigger.   This time, Jack didn’t lean away.   He leaned in.   ⸻   Click.   ⸻   Tigger gave him a big thumbs-up and a playful bounce before moving on.   Jack watched him go, smiling wide.   “He remembered me,” he said softly.   Jill brushed his hair back. “I think he did.”   ⸻   As they settled back into their seats, another Cast Member approached—this one wearing a lanyard covered in Disney pins.   “Hey there! Anyone trading today?” they asked cheerfully.   Jack’s eyes immediately dropped to the pins.   “Pins…” he said, remembering.   Jill smiled. “You wanted to try that, right?”   Jack nodded slowly.   “…yeah.”   ⸻   The Cast Member knelt down slightly, showing the collection.   “All you have to do is pick one you like, and trade one of yours.”   Jack blinked.   “Mine?”   Marcus reached into the bag and pulled out a starter lanyard they had picked up earlier.   “Remember these?” he said.   Jack looked down at them.   Then back at the Cast Member’s pins.   ⸻   His eyes moved carefully across each one.   Mickey.   Goofy.   Princesses.   Rides.   And then—   He saw it.   A small, bright pin.   Striped.   Smiling.   Tigger.   Jack froze.   Then pointed.   “That one…”   ⸻   The Cast Member smiled. “Good choice.”   Jack carefully handed over one of his pins, a little hesitant but determined.   The Cast Member took it and gently placed the Tigger pin onto his lanyard.   “There you go.”   ⸻   Jack stared at it.   Touched it lightly.   Like he needed to make sure it was real.   “I got Tigger…” he whispered.   Jill’s heart melted a little. “You did.”   Marcus grinned. “First trade.”   ⸻   Jack looked up at them, eyes shining.   “Mine?”   Jill nodded. “Yours.”    That was it. That was the moment.   ⸻   Jack hugged Flopsy with one arm while holding onto his lanyard with the other, smiling in a way that was quiet—but full.   Happy. Proud. Content.   ⸻   “Best day…” he said again softly.   Marcus chuckled. “You’ve said that a few times now.”   Jack nodded.   “Still true.”   ⸻   And as they sat there, finishing their meal, surrounded by laughter, music, and little moments of magic—Jack kept glancing down at his Tigger pin.   Just to make sure it was still there.   Still his.   And it was.

A few years back, Australia implemented a remarkably generous “National Disability Insurance Scheme” (NDIS) funded by yet another income tax levy on all Australians. In addition to guaranteeing disability support, one of, if not THE core principle of the NDIS is to empower the supported individual with choice in both the life-objectives of the support they receive (what the supports should accomplish) and how they should be provided (what kind of supports and from whom). It’s done a lot of good and I support it now as I did when it was introduced, refraining from grumbling (too much) about the itemised additional tax on my bill. One grim reality however is that recipient choice is not always good choice. Sometimes the supported individuals, to be brutally honest, do not make great choices.  Add to this the somewhat-loosely regulated nature of NDIS “un-accredited service provider” category and the vast amounts of taxpayer funds on the table and it’s unsurprising that we’re seeing insane cost over-runs along with on occasion, fairly dubiously-valuable outcomes. Consequentially but depressingly, the NDIS has fiscally bloated wildly since introduction.  There is now much Government hand-wringing about its completely unsustainable budgetary trajectory.  But for now, the wild-west supports party continues.  Any one for Goat Therapy? At a more pragmatic support level, on any given weekday at any given suburban shopping mall the NDIS is manifest.  A phalanx of typically wheelchair-bound recipients are escorted (enabled) by NDIS-funded carers to the food courts, the movies, department stores or whatever.  All fair enough I suppose. Sometimes though the value added by these carers is fairly questionable.  I remember lunching at a mall once where my attention was caught by a wheelchair bound woman of approximately my age doggedly propelling herself along whilst her “carer”, a 20-something youth slouched 10 paces behind her, scowling into her smartphone.  Catching my look, Mrs Wheelchair gave me a flicker of a grim smile, nodding her head back in the direction of her totally disengaged support “worker” and rolled her eyes.  Her message was clear: this was a waste of NDIS money.  Subject to accessibility, they could have just booked her an Uber. On another occasion, again at a mall, I rescued a stranded NDIS “supported” guy whose power wheel chair battery had gone flat.  It couldn’t be moved. I spent a couple of years working on these things.  Power wheel chairs typically have an auto-brake.  No power means the brake locks on, stopping the chair from rolling away.  It’s therefore necessary to knock a disabled power wheel chair into “neutral” in order to manually push it if you’ve flattened the battery: a fact that his bored NDIS support worker was evidently unaware of as he stood to one side, disinterestedly updating his Instagram whilst I located the neutral lever.  Fun fact: some power wheelchair manufacturers like to hide these. This week I was having lunch at our local mall with my beloved, who’d fled her adjacent office to join me at the mall for the hot date that is our annual flu jab. At the food court, the NDIS taxpayer money was flowing freely which for the most part is well enough.  It’s only just that people with disabilities should be able to travel to their local shopping mall and play Russian Roulette by eating dubiously-suburban sushi along with the rest of us. However one individual caught my eye, and the eye of many others. A youngish but definitely adult male, his disability was clearly intellectual rather than physical.  Considerably more able-bodied than I was, he was careening about the food court like an escaped chimpanzee.  I don’t say this in any kind pejorative manner as neo-primates at that food court are plentiful and hardly confined to the intellectual disability demographic.  His single, diminutive young female support worker was however, completely out of her depth in managing the situation.  Totally disinhibited, he rushed around tables making hooting noises as she trailed behind him looking slightly aghast whilst attempting to keep a hold of his hand.  A thick rope of drool hung from his chin as he attempted to “high five” a series of shocked patrons.  For the few that engaged, the “high five” that ensued seemed closer to a physical assault: the slapping of palms echoed like rifle shots across the din of the food court. NDIS or not, having him out was probably a bad idea compounded into a terrible idea by insufficient support worker. Now I’m not in the business of extracting prurient entertainment from the involuntarily-nappy-clad community but I do have a newsworthy point so stay with me here. His nappy was EXTREMELY obvious.  I honestly don’t know why his carer had bothered stretching those skimpy black shorts over the top of it.  His bum was bulging and featureless and his crotch was stuffed halfway down to his knees.  In addition to the almost-cartoon bulk, I saw that the substantial swathe of nappy protruding above the waist of his nearly-irrelevant pants was brightly pastel blue and adorned with some kind of partially-obscured-by-pants toddler motif that I could not discern. This was no Abena, Molicare or Tena.  This was, to my trained eye, a substantial, high-capacity ABDL nappy.  If I was forced to hazard a guess based on the 2” or so visible, I’d guess a Rearz “Lil Monsters” (curiously appropriate).  I’d also say by the general puffiness that it had been on duty for quite a while.  So the wearer was getting their money’s worth. I’ve mentioned before the default, almost dogged persistence care organisations display in throwing vast amounts of money away on thin, pathetically dysfunctional “medical grade” adult nappies and then, even more money on the constellation of complementary pads, wipes, clothing and bedding changes necessary to manage the fact that the nappies themselves never did what they were supposed to do.  By comparison, the value proposition of ABDL nappies is outstanding: they are similarly priced (or sometimes, thanks to the miracle of Government hand-out price distortion even cheaper) than their medical-class peers, more comfortable, longer-lasting and they work vastly better. Under NDIS however, the user can be the chooser.  As it happens, my ABDL nappy vendor IS an accredited NDIS provider.  This is a depressingly low bar to clear, demonstrating little more than having had a person to mouse-click their way through the mandatory on-line training and a bank account to receive the money.  But this, allied with the over-riding principle of user choice makes it theoretically possible for Government money to pay for “Little Kings”. It was difficult for me to visualise how Mr Not-Quite-Socialised would have thoughtfully selected from my ABDL nappy vendor (“hmmm, today Cheryl I think I’ll have the ‘Rearz Barnyard’ to wear to the zoo”) but it seems somebody was in the know here. He was in a product that works very well and on a miles per gallon basis would wildly outperform a medical appliance.  He looked quite comfortable. The discomfort was on everybody else.  I felt confident for the sanctity of the mall seating. So, not all NDIS money is wasted it seems.

Yes . Now I have to wear diapers 24/7 ,or I would wet my bed ,or my pants . I wear cloth pre fold ,and plastic pants as much as posable , it is a lot cheaper , to wsh and line dry them . Being older I do not care anymore .