Diaper References

I always thought it would be fun to ride a motorcycle but never did.  Won't do it with my bad joints, knee replacements, heart issue and other problems.  Funny, my friend is married to a doctor (they are both retired with 4 grown kids and 8 grandkids), and his doctor wife always referred to motorcycle riders as "Organ Donors".  What's even stranger is they had large privet property and dirt bikes their kids would tear around on when they were teenagers, dirt paths, trees and everywhere!  Sounds pretty contradictive to me! Gas was $4.07 still last nigh/ here in SW Michigant when I went to pick up fried chicken at the grocery store.  Maybe it's cheaper by Lake Onta....Excuse Me!  Lake America!  

Thank you. For sure, it will become something normal, Oskar and Sally together in diapers. We'll see how long. Oskar might get potty-trained first! And Sally does look gorgeous. A new hair style that brings some extra confidence, and testing new clothing styles.  Lary Lara is an adventure for Sally, but it is a challenge to write. Many new characters to deal with at once. 

So adorable! ❤️ Definitely want to see more from you in the future. Keep up the Great Work! 😊

Chapter Ten Allowed to Not Know Anything Yet   Cait’s feet landed on the hard plastic like floor or something her pee wet sandals on the floor. Her skirt was sticking to her butt and her back. She shivered. The tall pretty woman that she was told was Auntie Eiboline, her mom’s cousin, was turning the knobs for the bathtub water splouter.   “Be a good girl and take off your shoes,” the woman’s voice was soft. It wasn’t yelling. It wasn’t stage whispering. It wasn’t mad. “Then your skirt, Pet.”   Cait pull at her Sandals with the toe of her sandals on the back of the heel plate under the lower strap in back. The Sandals were dingy, dirty, and pee-soaked.   Auntie turned to face her after the water splouter was on full. The white cloudy stuff that rises from baths that Grainne, Clodagh, Mom, and dad took was present in the tub now. This kind of smoke doesn’t come from the baths that Cait or the two younger sisters get. They run out of hot water then, so it’s not cold exactly, but it’s not Grainne warm.   Cait pulled at the skirt that clung to her like pasted paper against a folder. It made an icky sticky pull at her thighs and her butt as she pulled it off and down her legs. The dinginess of it made it seem more light brown than it’s original yellow color.   Auntie Eiboline, (eye-bol-eyen), watched Cait for a moment as the skirt fell with a quiet almost no sound fluff of air though in Cait’s ears, there was a faint splat, too.   The lady’s look at Cait, it was a long steady watching-look. It didn’t seem to narrow at the eyes, and the mouth didn’t tighten. Her cheeks didn’t narrow in. She didn’t look right for being upset about the hallway.   Her hands were in her lap as she sat on the side of the tub waiting for it to fill.   The soaked clammy sticky stinky panties seemed to rest there on her butt, her hands on the sides of her hips, pausing just long enough that there was no question now, that the mess made just outside the door belonged to those dirty things—to that dirty stupid girl.   Soaking wet toilet tissue fell of out her panties as Cait finally took a deep breath and pulled at her panties, Accidentally turning them inside out upside downy trying to pull them down, but the wet sticky didn’t let them pull down normal and in shape. Still, the lady just smiled at her like it was the most right thing a little girl can do.   As Cait struggled with her top, Auntie Eiboline called at her in a soft near whisper. “No, Cait, pet. Come. Let me help.”   She didn’t know why she trusted her, nor why her legs just started, but Cait walked over.   Gentling unbuttoning the three buttons at her shoulder, Auntie-grandma lifted it off of her.   “Hey, Pet,” she whispered. “You don’t have to worry about little accidents, child. First, you are a child and they happen, and second, someone has to teach you that it’s okay to go to the bathroom before it gets so bad that you can’t make it.”   Auntie lifted Cait’s chin to look her in the eye. “Tell me, little lady, Is that what happened? You tried to wait at the table until you couldn’t?”   Cait looked down. “Stupid, like daddy says.”   “No, child. Scared. There’s a reason you feel bad all the time. There’s a reason you pee your pants. We work on that together. Your job, for a while? You come and get us when you’ve peed on the floor. That’s your job, and even if it’s outside on the ground, you still come and get us. That’s your job.”   “What… what if I don’t come and get you?”   “Well, we can’t have you going around in soaked panties all day, even if you did have a skirt to hide it, can we? If you seem too scared to tell us you’re suffering, then would you minded if we checked on you?”   Cait shrugged. “Daddy checks.”   Eiboline frowned. “Yeah, well, you get a chance to try to tell us first, pet. If it seems like a while and you didn’t say anything and I don’t remember you going, then we’ll discuss it first before I just go lifting your skirt or pulling down your pants against your will. Is that alright with you?”   Cait had almost a sigh in her answer. “Yeah.”   Eiboline put a hand on her shoulder. “Get in, pet.”   Cait looked up at her. She could see the steam in the tub, the hint that this wasn’t a cool or even a barely warm bath. It was something that only big people got at her house. Her eyes went a little wide. “Um… that’s hot water?”   “It’s body temperature,” Eiboline corrected her. “You don’t think I’d burn you, do you?”   “No,” Cait whispered. “I mean… it’s too hot. Only the big people and the ‘I don’t pee my pants people’ get to have water like that.”   “That rule is not only stupid, Cait, but it’s actively harmful. No wonder it smells like you haven’t had a bath for week! You bathe, don’t you child?”   Cait looked down. “Well, Grainne usually does it, after everyone else is done and the water is mostly all of the hot water has been used already. Daddy says I have to be last because of…,” and she looked down at her naked body which had chaffing and redness on her legs near where she pees.   “Well, there are only three people in this house and our water tank for hot water is probably bigger than your family tank, so there is no reason for you to take cold baths anymore.”   Cait’s eyes got big. “You are purposely letting me take a big people bath?”   “Sure…, if that’s what you call it,” Eiboline had a set small frown though. She didn’t like this at all. She couldn’t do anything about what was done, nor whatever was going on with the other four children at the Weimer Farm at the moment, but she didn’t have to like it.   Cait put a foot hovering over the steamy water and started to toe it, but pulled back.   Eiboline smiled down at her and put a hand on her shoulder as the child’s eyes looked up at her in confusion and probably the words on her lips but not spoken. ‘It’s hot.’   “You’ll get used to it, pet. Go on. Just take it slow. That’s a girl. Sit as slowly as you need to get your body used to it. Your body will like it once you are in.”   “Get in!” Grainne always had her arms crossed when Cait complained it was colder than usual. “If you didn’t wet the bed, maybe you’d get hot showers, and you peed at school today. What do you expect? Dad’s not going to trust you not to pee in the bath as long as you are peeing your pants at school, and it’s gross to sit in someone else’s pee, isn’t it?”   Cait looked up Eiboline who was now started to take a small brush of the likes she had never seen before. The bristles were white and the whole brush was so small, it would easily hide in the elder woman’s hand, but she grasped the hand that was on top, not out to the side like a hairbrush, and she picked up Cait’s foot at the end of the tub and started to brush at her toe nails. She smiled as she did so.   “Mom says I have to do do this,” Cait heard echoes of Grainne’s voice, always rushed and trying to hurry it because she had stuff she had to do, too. But this lady? She was smiling and she told her to sit as slowly as she wanted to get used to the bath. Her mind tried to rush sitting, but Eiboline shook her head at her and even reached in at one point and lifted her off when she noticed how Cait almost cried out because she tried to sit too fast. “Can’t you hurry up and sit right?” Grainne would say in the same situation.   Cait looked up at her. The woman was taking a long time on just one foot. It wasn’t a quick wipe or a flashing you are done. She was still on the same foot in the same time that Cait though Grainne would have already been washing up her legs, that’s if Grainne ever did wash her feet, but she didn’t. Grainne washed her chest, back, face, down to her hips. Then she threw the cloth at her sister. “I’m not washing your gross parts so you can pee on me. Just. Don’t tell Daddy I didn’t wash your butt, unless you want me to actually do it, and I won’t be gentle if you make me do it.”   The lady was very gentle with her feet, both of them. Then she carefully washed her fingers with the same brush, but just where the nails were.   Cait felt relaxed almost. She started to close her eyes as Auntie Eiboline exchanged the brush for a wash rag, a clean, nearly new-looking to Cait’s eyes, and she wiped slowly along Cait’s arms, first, this time. The sensation was purposeful and gentle. Auntie smiling the whole time.   “Good girl,” Eiboline said without a reason. Cait was just sitting still, but as her arms got clean and then her legs, one at a time, when Eiboline had them clean, she whispered. “Good girl.”   Sean came to the door of the bathroom. “It’s not ideal, Cait, but there’s underwear just the same and some jeans and a plaid shirt. I hope it’s okay. They are boy’s stuff. We’ve… we’ve never had a reason to have girl clothes with us before. We thought you’d have your own stuff, so I’m sorry we didn’t think to try to buy you stuff before you came.”   Cait smiled over at him. “Okay.” Her voice was still uncertain and small, but her eyes shined up at him. Her leaning into Eiboline’s gentle wiping now against her back was communication. She saw a glimpse of the boy underpants, but she didn’t care. She didn’t have to wear wet panties. That was more important.   Auntie and Uncle exchanged a look though that told Cait that there was something wrong. Maybe she had reacted in a way they feared she would. But she couldn’t understand what she had done wrong. She wasn’t complaining. She knew they couldn’t help it if all they had were boy underpants for her. At least they tried to get her clean. Yet, she could feel the sadness between them as she accepted the clothing without question.   “Isn’t she precious?” Eiboline asked Sean.   Sean walked out of the room, sort of faster than Cait would have liked, but he wasn’t stomping. He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t even acting like “Fine!” like you do when you know you can’t win, but you are mad anyway. No, the way he left was much too quiet to be from anger.   “What did I do?” Cait whispered up at Eiboline.   “Not you, pet. Not you. It’s complicated, but it’s not you.” She had a soft frown, too. “You really don’t mind the boy underpants?”   Cait shook her head. “Only you and Uncle Sean going to know what I wearing under the jeans, right? I don’t have to tell people that I’m wearing boy underwear, do I?”   “Of course you don’t, pet. But. I think that’s why he’s just thinking. It’s just… unheard of for a kid your age to not at least yell about it, even if you know that’s all we have. You’re… you’re just so grateful.” She smiled again. “And that’s a good quality to have. Don’t get us wrong. It’s just… a child your age… not minding. It’s sad is all.”   “Why?” Cait looked up at her wondering why her being grateful she didn’t have to wear stinking wet panties was sad.   “Never mind, Cait,” she smiled a soft understanding smile. “It’s complicated.”   The sensation of Auntie Eiboline now cleaning her seemed to shift, not to a raging let’s get this done with, but more, to something even softer as she continued. A softness like the wispy white left overs from a nearby cloud that seem so delicate, that staring at it too long could make it dis-just-app-ear? Was that a word? It meant invisible or not be anymore. Cait sighed. She was really stupid, wasn’t she?   Eiboline turned her and started to wash her chest and her stomach. Cait loved the soft warm feel of grandma-like Auntie washing her. So soft and with… with the care that what she was doing was important. That for once, Cait felt important to someone, important enough to spend time getting her cleaned right, and she didn’t fight for the rag. Not like she would have for Grainne even though she knew Grainne would win in the end.   The Bath nearly over, and Eiboline being caring and careful the whole time, started to wipe Cait’s butt, but disaster struck.   First, as she started to clean Cait, Eiboline pulled the cloth away to rinse it, but then stared at it like she was looking at a spider or something. Not with squeamish disgust, but just a surprised shock at seeing caked dried stuff that could have been nothing other than another sign that they didn’t not only teach her not to wipe, but they didn’t even teach her or clean her in baths. There was way too much of a buildup of dried stuff there, and she suddenly felt tears in her eyes.   “Oh, child,” she said softly. “You little lass….” She went to wipe her again when Cait’s hand instinctively went up to guard her face and chest, and as the woman started to wipe the dried stuff off of her again, Cait started to sob and then it happened….   Eiboline seemed to freeze with the rag held against the little girl’s bottom. The girl shivered and cried. There was a moment of time that felt instant but eternal at the same time. Then Eiboline felt it, a filling sickening presence pushing into her hand.   Cait felt it, the dried stuff against her butt and the stimulating scratching against her skin somehow caused her to forget herself or something. Without warning, she felt her stomach just push. It wouldn’t stop, but Cait wanted it to. She froze as she felt another push against the hand that was still on her butt. She started to sob. Her hands instinctively guarding her face and chest.   And before Eiboline realized it, nor Cait, Eiboline was pulling her hand rag back, a hand full of poop in her hand and the water turning disgusting as Cait’s body kept going. She was crying now.   Eiboline moved to the sink to wash her hands off, and she looked back at the crying little girl, and not one line of disgust filled her eyes. Something more from the heart made her call. “Sean! Get this baby out of the tub! Now!”   Cait looked up cautiously, though her fingers of her hands, her wet blue eyes peeking at the adults, but neither of them looked mad, exactly.   “She… she might still be pooping. You’ll want to be prepared for her to get poop on your hands. She… she just did it. There wasn’t any evil smirk, there wasn’t a gasp, it just happened, and then she got scared and started crying, Sean! Something is emotionally and terrifying wrong, here. We can’t send her back to that!”   Sean lifted the child, and indeed, poop was still coming out, but he held her anyway and he gave a great sigh. “Hey, Cait, don’t be scared,” he whispered. “It’s okay. We’ll get it cleaned up. You’re okay.”   Cait’s mind drifted back again to some other time as she shifted and shook in Sean’s hand. She had tears spilling down the sides of her face. Her hands tightened into fists as she shook as more poop pushed into Sean’s caring hands as he held her as if the pooping didn’t matter, his hands making a seat for her to sit in while she leaned in at his chest. She smelled—bad.   Liquid stuff came out after a moment splattering Sean, and still he just held her and started to coo a song at her. It was a song she hadn’t heard before, and she didn’t understand the words, but the melody was calming and it helped her hands relax. The more she relax, the more the poop came out freely until she finished. She laid her head on Sean’s chest, and her eyes closed.   “She’s worn out,” she heard Sean whisper, and then the lights went out.   The night was dark, the sky was blue. Around the corner, a window up on the second floor with a small part in the curtain that allowed the moon to shine, we peek in at a heavy breathing child. Her eyes are closed, but she has pulled the blankets closer to her body and tightened herself into a little cocoon. There is a little bit of Cait’s pre-pee, just a small damp spot where she had turned away dragging the blankets over her in her sleep. There was no awareness—until—the sat up, her eyes wide and her left hand, shaking, pushed itself inside the tightly wrapped blanket burrito where she felt her panties. “pre-pee,” she whispered to herself.   Chapter Eleven The Night   Her eyes cast around the room and saw a partly open curtain that let in a little of night time sparkles from the moon and the start, now allowing her eyes to sharpen and see the ancient wardrobe against a wall, a door partly left open. A dresser against the opposite wall from where the open door to her other side was closer to the wardrobe. Two windows in the room. One window that faced her as she stared to the foot of the bed and to that wall, and one widow over the dresser. There was a toy chest near the dresser. Did she see toys on the dresser?   The scent of the blankets were fresh and warm. These blankets, until now, smelled as though they had been ever untainted by the likes of this girl whose bottom had pressed a little pre-pee into the sheets where she sat. Her stomach sat full. There was no clock in here. There was only night light outside. It wasn’t even pre-dawn when the light should pale before the sun rises. It was clearly night.   “What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?” started to flash like the old tornado warnings that sometimes flashed across television screens in the 1980s during severe summer storms. Her legs and arms shook. “I can’t wet the bed. It’s… it’s not mine to wet! What will they do to me? Even if grandma-auntie doesn’t get mad, will they decide that I am trouble just like daddy says? Will she stop treating me like she did yesterday? Yesterday…. Someone wanted to talk to me.”   She closed her eyes and tried to see if she could feel how much sleep was inside her. She grasped at whatever clues she could pick up. Could she see the moon enough outside to know if it was rising, mid sky, or falling? Would she even know where the moon should rise from or fall to? She’d never seen the night sky after lights out. The curtains were always pulled shut on her, to hide the shame that she slept on a mat on the floor between two beds, and that mat was stained so deep it was more orange than white. Always hide the shame. That was the most important rule daddy made. If you hide it, at least it’s only a family secret. If someone sees you do it, then it’s a family shame.   “How long?” Cait whispered into the dark.   “Until you pee your pants?” the wicked taunt returned its voice more faint than the last time it appeared.   “Yeah?” Cait answered the ghost. “Or… until morning? Can I pee on the floor instead of the bed?”   There was quiet for a bit. The ghost’s answer wasn’t immediate.   “You can’t wet on the floor,” Cait heard her inner voice that didn’t seem as smirky this time. “You can’t. They’ll know you did it on purpose, if you do it on the floor. If you don’t want them to hate you….” Cait looked over at the partly open wardrobe. She shook not wanting to think for a moment. “It can’t be the bed, though.” Her thumb went into her mouth.   She thought the shadows of the room moved, but did they? Did any time pass. “I can’t pee the bed, though. I can’t.”   “Well, if you can get to the kitchen…,” the ghost advised. “… breakfast, and just use the rule, you can’t interrupt, and then pee your pants?”   “But… then I could use the toilet?”   The ghost didn’t answer.   The darkness seemed to become more… not light… but less obscure. It was almost revealing to Cait as she looked at the partly open wardrobe, the closet door made of darker wood that she didn’t see just before right next to her bed, in fact, on the other side of the wall of the door that her headrest was on. It was fully closed, but she could now make out the coppery hand circle parts for your hands to slide it open. There were shoes under the dresser, shined, brown ones maybe. The toys on the dresser were… not baby toys at all.   Cait’s thumb in her mouth popped out of her mouth as she realize the toys on the dresser were… a water gun. Even teenagers play with those. There were farm animals set up across it with meticulously placed fences and each animal stood up on its own. These were not clumsy big things that toddlers chewed on. They were little figurines used to tell a child’s story. There was a little box that she couldn’t quite make out what product it was supposed to protect when new, but it was small enough, it elevated a dog on the box. It was like the dog looked at all the others. The big animals, they were all looking at the dog. The baby animals, they were looking at the big animals that looked like them, or they were frozen in mid action, one little one following another, almost as if someone took a picture of the babies playing tag while the dog barked at the others. Cait could almost imagine the dog barking, but his barking was understood as words by all the animals round his box though still separated behind their own squares of fences. Cait returned her thumb to her mouth.   What if one of the little animals, one that was chasing the other little ones, was like her? It was too small to look at the dog, but too big to really be by its mother, and it was frozen, looking at the dresser top, poop in it’s invisible panties?   Cait sighed and the ghost, still leaving it’s smirk in the garage where daddy was supposed to do things but forgot about them, whispered. “That little girl colt there? The one looking at the other horses playing, but its body angled at it’s mom? The one that has invisible poopy panties? That’s you,” the ghost told her. “You can’t escape the pre-pee, and that means you will pee your pants even if you don’t want the Kinsella people to know. Even if the nice lady is there to take care of you, you know, Auntie-grandma Eiboline? Even if she is watching, she’s looking at the dog? See? The other big horse, it’s body nearly shielding the little pooped pants little horse from the dog, but its head is turned to the dog. You know who the dog is, don’t you?”   Cait gulped. Another little pre-pee drizzle slipped into her panties and wet the blankets she was rolled in. “He’s always watching. He will know if you don’t pee the bed. What if he knows you do it at home but not here? He’ll think you did it on purpose all those years, won’t he? He’ll hit. He will.”   “Wait,” Cait told the ghost. What if there isn’t even any poop in the pony’s panties? What if it’s just pre-pee? Maybe it’s trying to find a place go? That’s why it’s not with the other running and tagging horses over there? Maybe she’s scared to play with the other little horses until she finds a place to poop?”   “I don’t know…,” the ghost whispered. “She is separated from the playing horses and she’s not by her mommy horse. Maybe she is looking for a toilet. But what do horses use? I mean, if they are like people, they can’t use the toilet, they are made for those, and if they are like people, they can’t just let it go on the ground or in their panties. They’d be too smart…. So what would they use?”   “I don’t know, Cait whispered around her thumb. A ditch?”   “The edge of the dresser?” The ghost suggested. “The horses are fenced off to the middle of the dresser. She can’t get there, can she?”   Cait shook her head. That’s… that’s why she’s in the middle of pooping her panties instead of it already is in them. She’s trying to find a way, but she’s starting to not make it.”   The bathroom is just down the hall. Cait had seen this room earlier, when she peed in the hallway by the toilet door. It wasn’t more than ten steps from the bedroom door, and the minutes she’s out of bed on the door side, she’s already at the door. She just has to get up.   “If you pee on the floor…,” The ghost’s whisper seemed to fade before it could finish its words.   Cait pushed her hands into her panties, trying to feel how wet she was. She was wet. But it wasn’t soaked. She can do it, right? She stared into the hall. The other room that faced her door across the hall was Sean’s room. He was the dog in this house, right? But what if he’s not? What if daddy is still telling them what to do, with the phone or with letters, or somehow, magically? If she goes in the hall, that will be it. She will have to make it to the toilet if she takes even one step from here.   Cait sucked her thumb. The dog’s door stayed closed. The light that spilled out halfway between the bedrooms from the fully open bathroom door…. It was calling to her. It was saying that it was warm there. Cait checked her panties again with her other hand, not the one in her mouth—ew! And she took a deep breath puffing out her chest. Can I?   She felt her legs shaking as she stood there, uncertain. Her body shuddered. A little pre-pee escaped. Her eyes looked over the edge of the hall. The hands. In Cait’s head it was 4 and 6. Was that morning? She didn’t know. She stepped shivering into the hall. Nothing bad happened. No one yelled. No pre-pee. She took another step. She was doing it. She was leaving the bedroom. Her panties were wet, but the floor was dry. She was moving. The light was getting closer.   What was that? The little girl froze after four steps and listened. She didn’t know. Did she hear something? Was it just the toy dog barking at her to stop her, or was it telling to go? She didn’t know. It felt like she was being watched. It felt like something heard her. It felt like she was being judge. Pre-pee started to pat-pat in her panties. It wasn’t stopping. It wasn’t pre-pee! “Stop!” she felt the dog staring at her from the direction to the other bedroom. You’re peeing, little girl. You are going to go into the bathroom and continue making a defiant trail?”   She was halfway between the bathroom and her bedroom. The bed. She had to return…. When she turned, she saw the inner ghost. “If you move… you are flooding. Look!”   So caught up in her panic, the little redheaded girl with hair in every wild ghost-like unmanageable visage that it may seem if a kid put her hands in the electric wall place, that’s her hair, and she just froze. “The Rule, Cait,” her ghost reminded her. “No trail back to bed. That will get you in less trouble. It will look less like you started and didn’t know you were wetting, than if you leak on the way back. Just… do it, Cait.” The sound was quiet though, and defeated. “You tried. What happens, happens. But don’t let them say you didn’t. Don’t make them a trail that they can say you went knowing you were peeing, right?”   Chapter Twelve The Morning   Cait sighed, nodded, curled up on the floor, and closed her eyes, and peed, and then she stayed there, peeing her pants and then falling asleep in the cold. The cold lonely place meant the blankets didn’t get more of Cait on them. Meant, she stayed where she was supposed to. Mean’t she didn’t dirty anything else. She was a good girl. Her thumb was in her mouth as the sun started to rise from the main windows lighting up the small little girl on the upper balcony to the right of the toilet, sleeping in a puddle.   Across the hall, murmers were heard. The light spilled out onto the puddle the extreme of which reached the bathroom light and caused it to sheen off the floor like when a small wet spot on a wet rainy road might glisten for a moment as the car lights hit it. The door handle moved, a woman tall and elegant smiled at the little innocent creature on the hallway floor, her thumb in her mouth, her hair disarrayed.   “Sean! Sean! Quick, before she wakes,” she pointed an open gestured hand towards the child, that to them at that moment, looked like a baby girl, lost in the hall, having seemingly crawled looking for them, maybe…. But Sean frowned, the shorter of the two but with twice the shoulder and brawn whispered something up at her that made the woman’s smile of innocently watching a baby try to get somewhere, into a teary eyed darker remorse. She took a deep sigh.   “You want to get her a bath, don’t you?” Sean asked the elegant woman.   He walked over and pulled the little girl up off the cold floor and cuddled her. The way he cuddled her, it still could have been as if she was a baby, but his face wasn’t a happy let’s make the baby coo sort of look. It was serious, heavy, and his eyes shined at her.   Her thumb was still in her mouth. Her eyes rapidly opened and fluttered at being held. His left hand was patting her soggy panties. He breathed his words as instruction, not as the kind of teaching her dad would have done, but more as if he knew something.   “Pet? You were scared?” He patted her wet bottom again for emphasis and then looked over at her bedroom door and then back at her. “All children get scared. Being scared doesn’t make you a baby, Cait. It doesn’t make you a baby to pee your pants on the way to the toilet either. You do know that, don’t you?”   Cait looked up at him.   “Next time you get scared like that… especially if you pee your pants, pet? Don’t lie in it. You didn’t like that, did you? It felt gross, right?”   Cait looked into his shining eyes, trying to see what the trick was. She didn’t feel him shaking in the way dad gets when he’s trying to control his anger when he’s explaining something. She just smelled a heavy soft hay, soap, coffee scented Uncle that now had a hint of her scent on him as her wet panties were pressed against him as he adjusted her to hold her like a child, properly. He tucked her legs around his body as if giving her body permission to touch him even though she was soaked, and his hand on her still wet bottom… Cait knew he didn’t just forget.   “I… I didn’t want to make a second mess,” Cait shivered as she looked up at him telling him the rule.   “Baby, that thinking is stupid. What would you do? Lie there all morning if we had already been downstairs and hadn’t noticed and stay in the piss until we looked for you?”   Cait looked down. “It wouldn’t spread the mess and make the house dirty if I did.”   Sean shook his head. “It is making a second mess, though, little pet. A much worse mess when you do that. I’m not talking about a physical thing that can be cleaned up or replaced. I’m talking about something that can’t be fixed. You are putting yourself in a box where you can’t get help and if you can’t get help, your aunt and I won’t know how much of this is you being immature, you being too scared to go like you should, you having potty troubles because your body is hurt, or any other combinations of things that will just be a mess your Auntie and I couldn’t fix. You can’t hide these potty problems, sweetheart. You have to come to us. I know you’re ten, and you feel certain ways about it. No natural ten year old likes to admit that she pees her pants, pet. But we can’t help you if we don’t know what is going on. You have to try to trust us. You are stuck here for the next two months, and you can’t live in shame all that time, little one.”   Cait listened to him as she breathed in the air around her. She felt his chest rising and fall as he talked. She felt the breath from his mouth hit her at times, not like the gross spitting daddy does when he’s mad, but like a gentle summer breeze helping a duck fly a little faster.   “But I pee my pants, and I pee the bed, and I pee….” Cait was struggling to understand why it was okay to wet her pants.   “Pet,” Sean whispered. “One problem at a time. Right now, you come and get us. We don’t care about the puddles or the floor or even the clothes and even the little wetness in your undies. We care about the child that is holding all that weight first. You’ll understand, hon. In time. For now, just come and get us—especially at night when it’s the scariest. You come in and you wake us, and you tell us baby wet her pants because she got scared and that will be the end of it, hon. No shame.”   Cait looked up at him, after what felt like minutes to her. He was still holding her, patting her wet boy underpants that were put on her, but the wet boy underpants… they were not a trap for shame right now. They were a sensation of Uncle’s touch. They felt… right.   Sean turned slowly towards the light from the bathroom, Cait now looking back at the bedroom where there was no trail. The ghost was right. No trail… they assumed she just peed her pants and it wasn’t dirtying everything. No trail is safe.   Sean was different though. He told her to come and get him. That she doesn’t just stay there after she pees. She comes and finds help. He was nice. He was strong. But, daddy lies. Does Sean? Does Sean forget what he says like Daddy sometimes? He hasn’t been mad yet. He touched her and carried her twice when she peed. Is he really okay touching her pee?   The bathroom door closed, Uncle Sean, Aunt-grandma Eiboline, and Cait all inside.

Penny smiled at her friend and bounced Ruby on her knee, smiling. By the time the cartoon switched to Donald's Gold Mine, Penny felt the temperature drop and decided to put something on Ruby's head to keep her warm. Her backpack opened up, and her extra arms came out with a red baby bonnet. Penny took it and put it on Ruby's head before tying it under her chin. When Donald fell into the ore processor, she bounced Ruby as if she was the one on the conveyor belt Donald had just fallen on. "Just let me know if you get hungry." Penny whispered at the start of Ruby's makeshift ride.