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Part 15 I was glad Dr Thana was there. It would be hard to explain exactly what happens when John zones out but he was able to witness precisely what arose - as it occurred. What he saw was the way a confident teen rapidly dissolved into being a small child. John wanted to climb all over me but I was able to gently set him down on to the floor, whilst watching him start to crawl around and investigate the doctor’s office. Meanwhile, the doctor looked a little bemused but nodded that he understood what was happening without any explanation from me. Still, I thought I’d better say something. “He’s okay in himself... he’s not hurting or suffering.... he likes being little. I only wished I’d thought to bring some toys with me... sorry” I added needlessly apologising. Doctor Thana went to his desk and brought out a colouring book and some crayons and set them down for John to see. My son beamed in childish delight, grabbed at them and then chose a blue crayon to start. “I also deal with youngsters as well as my research into chemical abuse and addiction.” The doctor offered by way of explanation. Busy man I thought. “Oh, erm, what do we say to the nice man Johnny?” “Erm, fank oo misser.” His voice seemed so small and I don’t think I’ve heard him sound so babyish before. The Doctor was studying him intently and I had to hold my tongue from trying to clarify things even more. I don’t know why but I thought everything John did, every movement he made, needed to be addressed. “Hmmm,” the Doctor made a note on his computer, “just how often does this happen... do you think?” He seemed aware that this might happen when I’m not around (or no one else there to witness it) but I had hoped I’d clarified this as much as I could in the earlier email. “It seems to be getting more often but, and this is what’s really strange, he always seems incredibly happy, even if he’s wetting or messing his nappy. He loves his toys and stuffed animals and when his...” I stopped myself just in time from mentioning his friend Terry being involved. “Erm, when either me or his father are around to play with him his face lights up and he, um, giggles a lot.” “Giggles?” “Yes, that’s why we think he enjoys it so much... he just keeps smiling and loves his play time. As a fairly clever sixteen year old student, he’s passed all his exams with flying colours...” I had to get that in so the doctor didn’t think my son was just a silly little kid with no prospects or anything. “I see. So before the drugged pacifiers he was quite a high achiever... academically?” “Yes” “Did he show any leanings towards wanting to be younger or maybe even babied before then?” He ruffled John’s hair and received a huge grin in return. “Not that we’d noticed but once we had him wearing nappies because of his anxiety incontinence he just seemed to stick to them and didn’t bother with other underwear so...” I shrugged. I left it open because I wanted to tell the truth but the truth was... we simply didn’t know. “The fact is doctor, that we thought it was just worry about his exams but that’s all over. However, his wearing of nappies has become ‘normal’, he seems to prefer them. Nonetheless, certainly since using those FruitiZuckers... his desire for, and enjoyment of, more juvenile clothes and play things has increased.” # I wasn’t sure if I should relate the entire Dreamtime and Avril involvement in getting John to where he is now regarding clothing preferences because the real reason we were seeing this expert was because of the possible drugs circulating in John’s system. “Okay,” the doctor seemed to have come to a decision, “we need to get that blood and I can then do an analysis and hopefully get you and the police some answers.” The problem I saw now was that as he’d regressed so much would I be able to get John to let the doctor take some blood... could I somehow convince him it was a game? However, Doctor Thana got in first. “Hey Johnny, would you like to see my lab with all its colourful gizmos and stuff?” He excitedly invited John who was lying on the floor colouring in his book. He seemed to like the idea and enthusiastically nodded his head and reached out to be helped up so he could follow the nice man. # The lab was quite impressive, not from size because it was actually quite a small area but from the mass of electronic screens, dials and apparatus that vibrantly blinked, flashed or sparkled as we entered. John was enthralled. “Now then young man,” the doctor cajoled, “would you like to help me test some of these machines?” John was looking at the screens with colourful charts and graphs and although not sure what was going on nodded in agreement. “Well thank you.” He reached over and picked up a soft ‘helmet’ with wires attached and asked if it was okay for him to fit it onto John’s head. “When I turn this on it will begin to light up images on this screen,” he said pointing to a large display, “and it tracks signals bouncing around inside your noddle” He explained as he gently tapped my son’s head. “All that is going on in here will then appear as colourful images on the screen so you can see pretty patterns... okay?” John’s enthusiasm seemed to grow as he watched the swirls on screen. “Now, while you look at that, I need to take a little of you blood to put into this other machine over here,” he pointed to yet another piece of apparatus, “which should let us know what’s in your system at the moment.” He looked to see if there was any reaction from John but he was too engrossed with what was happening on screen to notice. “You’ll feel a little scratch but your mummy’s here so no need to worry and it will be over in a few seconds...okay?” Again John didn’t react he was spellbound by the way his brainwaves were lighting up various parts of an image of his head. “Oooohhh.” Was all he contributed and thankfully didn’t react to the phial of blood the doctor extracted from his arm. He immediately pressed it into another piece of electronic equipment and tapped in some instructions where, after a couple of muted beeps, another screen began to show different coloured spikes on a graph. He looked to me. “These various spikes show different factors that are in his system. His brainwaves are recording things I haven’t seen before but put them together and perhaps we can determine exactly what is happening.” This sounded promising but as yet I wasn’t getting my hopes up. He performed a few more routine tests, one of which involved strobe lighting flashed into John’s eyes. He suddenly looked around him and asked where he was before apparently regaining his senses. John was back being a teenager. “Now that’s interesting,” Doctor Thana observed, whilst the spikes on the brain scan showed several colours darting to other areas. “Now then... I think...” and he tweaked a couple of things that overlay information, “Ah yes, look... that might explain... erm... well... hmmmm.” He wasn’t giving much away but it appeared some doubt had flittered across the Thai doctor’s previously knowledgeable face. “Okay, we can lose that for the time being.” He removed the wiry helmet and the image on the screen beeped and froze. “Now then John,” he used a pen light to check his eyes. “How are you feeling now.” John shrugged and wriggled a little uncomfortably in his chair. “Ermmm!” From the newly developing odour and expanded size of John’s shorts I knew he needed a change and asked the doctor if there was somewhere I could do that. He indicated a handicapped toilet further down the corridor. At least I’d remembered to bring a couple of spare disposables and, if needed, a fresh pair of plastic pants. We both toddled down the hallway, John’s cute little waddle was something that I’d gotten used to but perhaps, for now at least, I needed to simply be Mum and sort my son’s messy padding out. Who knows, maybe, by the end of today, we’ll have answers to everything. “Mum, I can change myself...” but despite the return of his teenage status I wasn’t going to let him do that. I wanted to know precisely what was going on in his nappy and a particularly messy one needed my involvement to make sure the job was done correctly. He saw my look of determination and just relaxed as I removed his shorts, eased down those slippery plastic pants and got on with eliminating the smelly and well used nappy. It took a few minutes to get him clean enough by just using wet wipes. Eventually I think I had him relatively hygienic enough to replace his disposable and return him to something normal, fresh and dry. We both sighed and smiled in recognition of a job done well. After the change and we returned to the doctor’s lab I’d hoped that before we left that he’d have some results for us. Alas he said he needed to do more tabulations and compare data from other sources, such as Doctor Answah’s previous blood test, before he could give us a definite response, which he’d also have to discuss with the police before any further steps could be taken. However, he seemed positive (well as much as he could be) and said that there was, or at least appeared to be, a chemical imbalance in John’s system but it might take a few days to sort out just what remedies could be advised. He’d be in touch as soon as he knew what action to take. # On the way home I asked Mum what exactly had gone on because I wasn’t sure I recalled it correctly. She explained but I just remembered colouring in and looking at multicoloured ‘paintings’ on a screen. Anyway, Mum seemed satisfied that something was being done and hoped we were a few steps nearer some kind of resolution. I just felt happy that I had a fresh clean nappy on and that was enough for me. That was the thing, no matter what was happening all that concerned me was that I was wearing a nappy that hugged me tightly and so felt protected and fortunate. Not sure Mum or Dad got that. However, there was something that Mum noticed - the strobe lights that brought me out of my regression - she thought was interesting. She explained that when she and Dad were at university quite a few of the visiting bands that played in the student’s union used strobe lighting and remembered quite a few of the audience reacted to the flashing, some not too well. At certain frequencies the number of flickers per second affected some the audience’s brains and they were prone to seizures or some other psychotic episode. I only know this because I heard her explaining my doctor’s visit to Dad and she brought all that up. Both of them found it interesting though I couldn’t see how it applied to me as I didn’t think I’d gone psychotic, well, at least, I didn’t think so. Anyway, back in my bedroom and with Bruce gently nuzzling my hand as I stroked my slippery bulge I looked it up on my laptop to see why it was of such interest to them. https://neurolaunch.com/effects-of-strobe-lights-on-the-brain/ Neurological and Cognitive Effects Strobe lights produce rapid, intense flashes of light at regular intervals, which can synchronize with brain wave patterns in a phenomenon called the frequency following response. This can lead to altered states of consciousness, euphoria, visual illusions, or time distortion. Exposure may also influence neurotransmitter release, including dopamine and serotonin, affecting mood and cognitive function. Some people report enhanced visual acuity or “visual trailing,” where moving objects appear to leave a trail behind them due to the brain’s processing limits under rapid flashing light. Oh, now I saw why they found it important... maybe they thought that the drug that Avril and her boyfriend had developed was somehow laced with a psychotic inducing element. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to delve further or leave it to the professionals to sort out. However, Bruce had become insistent that I gave him as much attention as I was giving my slippery protection. So, understandably, I decided to leave it to the experts and the resources they had available rather than get myself worked up over something I knew nothing about. Nevertheless, after I’d gathered all this new information, and with Bruce licking my face in appreciation, the question I found myself left with was why was it still affecting me AND more importantly, what, if any effect did it have on my nappy preference? # Dr. Thanakom Thongcharoen was perplexed. After taking time to observe, analyse, and compare, he realised that the spikes on his graphs—which at first convinced him that hallucinogens were present—were actually caused by something else. The levels of toxins lingering in John's system from his last FruitiZucker were minimal; Banisteriopsis caapi and Psychotria viridis, two Amazonian plants, which appeared to have been synthesised by the pharmacist’s boyfriend and, together with a blend of Ecstasy and various fruit flavourings had produced a very pleasant and easy, if subversive way of distribution – the FruitiZucker. However, what was now apparent was that John’s brain was generating its own chemical makeup. Whether this was initially triggered by the drugged pacifier or stemmed from something deep within John’s psyche or even a natural bodily occurrence remained unclear to Dr. Thongcharoen. Nevertheless, on further investigation his spectrometers and other analytical instruments clearly indicated that whatever Amazonian exotic substances had been there were now nearly gone, and Johnny’s regression into childhood was apparently largely driven by his own mind. Those weird brain spikes on the graph and colour clusters on the synaptic scan were quite incredible. It seemed unlikely, but all the current data pointed to this conclusion. Johnny’s brain was the cause, and since the family were adamant that his bedwetting and desire for nappies began before he started using a FruitiZucker, perhaps it was during an earlier experience where everything began. Could a past or existing ‘trauma’ have affected the sixteen-year-old so profoundly? Was it a natural but as yet undetected mental aberration? Dr. Thana knew he needed to probe further, but at least he had the scientific results the police required for their prosecution, even if they weren’t the answers John’s family sought. # It was five days after the visit to the Blair Wing when we got a call that the doctor would like me to go in again and have further tests. Apparently, because of their suspicions (but lack of findings) I had now become something of a cause célèbre (as Mum described it) and they needed to know what exactly was going on in my head. Apparently, very few of the readings of my brain activity and chemical make-up made much sense so, they wanted to undertake a more thorough examination. However, before that time I’d met up with Terry and told him what I knew but that we’d kept him out of the story, he was very grateful. Alas, we didn’t return to wearing just our nappies and play with our toys, instead we went and met up with our other friends and hung around with them... as teenagers. Although he’d said that he still enjoyed wearing a nappy from time to time, he thought it best to leave it be for the time being. Also, during those few days, as far as I was aware, I didn’t slip back into any regression, which was a shame... I really enjoy it there even if I wasn’t sure what was going on. Actually, I only assume I enjoyed it because I wasn’t always aware of what was happening. On the other hand, with the return of most of the Dreamtime clothing I was happy, very happy in fact, to get back to dressing in all my favourite, if childish, outfits on my own. Anyway, now the police had their answers, Avril and her boyfriend, in his absence (absentia) were charged and the case was scheduled for a later date. However, because of my regression, and although the thinking was the drugs were only partially to do with it, they were waiting on Dr. Thanakom Thongcharoen final appraisal of my condition to know what the exact terms of the prosecution would entail. Meanwhile, the follow up email the hospital sent included the fact that because of the nature of the extensive tests it would take more than a day to complete and said I should prepare to be kept in for at least one night and possibly two. This made me very nervous and I peed my nappy, which I’d only just changed into. Dad seemed pleased that something important was happening and hoped that they would finally get to the bottom of my need for nappies. I’d explained on many occasions it was just because I preferred to wear them but Dad as always wanted to know WHY? He still wasn’t satisfied with the psychiatrist’s assessment. # Mum asked the Doctor if she could stay throughout the procedures as she had for the earlier tests. Doctor Thana said she could if she wanted but there would be a great deal of movement around the hospital to various MRIs, scanners and a good deal of other specialist areas and suggested that it might be best, if I was agreeable, to just be on my own. “We have a great deal to do and want to do it as quickly as possible but, as mentioned, it would include having John stay overnight for us to observe his brain functions and sleep patterns.” I told Mum not to worry and that I’d be alright. “But what if you have a relapse and want your Mummy...?” She asked wiping a stray hair from my forehead. “Well to be straight with you Mrs Benedict... this is something we also need to monitor without you being around.” Dr Thana’s tone was definite and I think made it clear that she’d be only be getting in the way if she insisted on staying. “Seriously Mum,” I tried to reassure her, “it’s only overnight... I think at sixteen having Mum staying in the hospital with me sends out the wrong message.” I missed the irony in that statement. So, reluctantly Mum left me with the doctor and his assistants and I began a series of tests that started with me stripping down to my nappy and plastic pants (I was in a little room on my own to change), putting on a hospital gown and then being led to a room for a full MRI scan. I’d seen such machines on TV but to be honest, it looked bigger and scarier than I would have admitted to. I tried not to let my anxiety show and smiled nervously as they got me to lie out on the thing and began to fit various attachments. Unfortunately, I could feel my nappy warm up as I began to nervously flood it. In the meantime, I watched as the assistants all congregated in a small room with screens and various other gadgets off to the corner of the ‘operating theatre’, or whatever they called it, and I tried to calm my nerves as one of them slipped headphones and a cover over my head. # Although I wasn't positive if the machine could detect my soaked disposable under the plastic pants, I knew the team were watching monitors linked to me in that little office, so suspected I probably no longer had any secrets. Despite having noise blocking head phones the racket from the MRI was quite a surprise. Several passes just scanned my head but I became aware that the calming words being relayed to me didn’t seem to be quite as reassuring. I couldn’t see what was going on in the other room where the team were all gathered but I certainly detected some uncertainty. I had no idea how long I was in the MRI for but no sooner was I extricated from it than I was guided into a different room, hooked up to another type of brain scanner via a soft helmet with even more wires protruding from it and told to relax. How the hell could I relax when I was sitting in a soaked nappy and being asked questions I couldn’t think quick enough to answer. I wanted my mum but as I was being a brave teenager thought better than to ask for her. However, my nappy did need a change though wasn’t sure, if they hadn’t noticed, how to bring it up. Although they did not share much info with me, they frequently referred to the previous results and actively compared that figure with what they were currently reading on screen. They kept looking from me to the results and then back again, their fixed smiles not hiding their confusion. “Found something,” I eventually ventured. “Erm, well,” This wasn’t the usually erudite Doctor Thana but one of his assistants, “you appear to have, at times, uuummm, high levels of dopamine and...” He could tell I had no idea what he was talking about so simply said that there were some abnormalities between my earlier readings from when I first visited, the blood results they’d recently received from Doctor Answah and the ones they were seeing now. It was Doctor Thana who pointed out that the first results from five days before were when I was in my ‘regressive state’. The group as a whole seemed to express a combined mumble of understanding. “Which is why we have Mr Benedict with us today,” The Doctor continued addressing his colleagues. “We have an opportunity to study something we haven’t seen before or calculated in our previous studies. Mr Benedict, um, Johnny here,” he smiled his approval at me, “is giving us all a rare glimpse into his head and mind, which in turn gives us these remarkable calibrations of the various protein levels that make up the multitude of neurological patterns and how they present themselves as a possible age regression pathway.” He implied I was somehow unique or different, so I guess their attentiveness was a boost to my self-esteem. Still, I couldn't ignore the persistent discomfort of my damp and aggravating nappy. “’Scuse me...” I tried to get someone’s attention, “but do you have anywhere were I could change.” I didn’t want to tell them I was wearing a nappy though thought they probably all knew. I need...” “Oh yes my apologies Johnny.” Doctor Thana looked around and found one of his female assistants. “Would you be so kind as take Johnny to the changing station and help him. Oh, and please keep his wet nappy, we will need it to run some tests... well... we needn’t go into those details just now.” He said as an afterthought. As soon as Doctor Thana had finished speaking, I was escorted away by a visibly flustered assistant. It was clear from her expression that she was uncertain about the level of involvement required in my change, perhaps even feeling slightly awkward about the task ahead. For my part, I actually preferred when someone else handled the process. There was a comforting sense of security and snugness that came from having another pair of hands take charge, so I was more than happy to let her manage everything. Given the circumstances, I wasn’t sure when I’d have the opportunity for another change, so I resolved to make the most of this one. While the team remained focused on their screens and the ongoing study, my priority was simply to ensure I felt as comfortable and secure as possible. Ultimately, all I wanted was to be snug and settled, even as the scientific investigation continued around me. # “Look here,” Doctor Thana gathered his team around the duel display, “we can see that the levels of dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin... in fact, all hormone levels are out of balance.” He pointed to the sharp peaks and troughs on the coloured graph and the overlaid images of John’s brain where most of the activity took place. “We can see from the earlier tests when he was in a regressive state... they were aligned to what could be regarded as the wrong areas of his brain.” There was the general sound of agreement and interest. “Could that be the result of the drugs we know entered his system?” One knowledgeable voice asked. “Well of course we have to take that into consideration but the history of John’s need and use of nappies pre-dates that occasion... and further more... now we see most of the traces of the drug have disappeared we are left with a different thought... did the drug enable these bizarre groupings of hormones to produce this strangely accepting state of affairs?” “But surely doctor, there are any number of teenagers who like to wear nappies...” “Indeed there are, but, in my research into youth disorders I have never seen this combination of negative and positive displacement of the key ingredients to brain function. The makeup of one of the neural pointers is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It is a mystery as to why this is happening, and, as there are no traumas or physical attributes reported to where Johnny is at the moment, we might be on the verge of seeing and diagnosing a rare, if not unique, event indeed.” He looked around at his entranced assistants. “We need to try and induce him to regress so we can monitor the process from start to finish and have a clearer idea of just what is happening inside the lad’s head.” There was a murmur of excited approval. # Ffion was the name of the carer who came to help. She asked what I needed and I told her that normally, I’d do it myself but prefer for it to be done properly seeing as I was going to be wearing only a nappy and hospital gown for the foreseeable future, I’d like some help to make sure it was on properly and very secure. She obviously had some nursing experience because she didn’t bat an eye as I lay out on a rather large changing table and pulled up my gown to reveal the soggy state of my padding. There was a moment of resignation I saw flit across her face, then it changed and I noticed a different scrutinization and she simply told me to lie back and she’d see to everything. I said that I was happy to help but she just told me to relax and that she was used to dealing with “wet boys”. My new young carer had a smile on her face when she said that so knew she was having fun... I just hoped it wasn’t going to be at my expense. Ffion moved efficiently, collecting the necessary items—lotion, powder, and a disposable nappy—from the shelves nearby. It was clear she was familiar with the layout and knew precisely where everything was kept. Without hesitation, she instructed me once again to just relax. I felt uncertain about where to direct my gaze. Although I had been changed by others before, Ffion’s presence was different. Her Welsh accent and her appearance of only being slightly older than myself, made me acutely aware of the situation. However, it was obvious she was a professional, and I was simply a patient. So, I followed her instructions, trusting her expertise. Once my plastic pants were down, as they settled around my ankles, she commented what a good quality brand they were and after an antiseptic wipe they’d be as good as new. She patted the full and soggy material and light-heartedly told me off for not mentioning my need earlier. I was going to tell her I hadn’t had chance being guided here, there and everywhere... but I kept quiet as she gently unwrapped the offending bundle of fabric and pee. She slipped it into plastic bag and then proceeded to use a few wet wipes on my naked skin, followed by a warm flannel she’d soaked under the hot tap in the sink. She was most thorough and I was enjoying her ministrations when quite unintentionally I made a groan of pleasure, which I reacted with complete embarrassment and flushed bright pink. She started to giggle but then tried to rein in her mistake with a shake of the head “We’re not going in that direction at all... little boy...” she said with a flourish of powder before pulling the disposable up between my legs, “so think again”. I think, from the heat radiating from my body, I’d turned from pink to red. Finishing off she patted my padded crotch and said that should be good enough for a few hours but then turned attention to the plastic pants still hugging my ankles. She found a different wipe, which smelled a bit medical and gave the inside of the plastic a fairly good dab around then eased them up and over the disposable. She tucked everything in and then with a smile at my obvious embarrassment pulled my gown back into position and jokingly said, in a rather nannyish way, I’d been a “very good boy”. Not sure why but at that moment I felt myself slipping. # I’d just finished changing his nappy when things didn’t seem right. Only a few seconds before we were having fun with the embarrassing situation but then -wham – he looked and acted like a toddler. It was weird to witness how quickly he’d become little; his voice changed to that of a two year old and seemed to become that small child in seconds. I wasn’t sure what to do so I thought I’d better get him back to the lab as soon as possible. She explained what had happened to the group. He was still happy but asking for his teddy bear and where his mummy was. He wasn’t too sure who I was but I think, because I was an adult, he trusted me when I told him she wasn’t far away. I held out my hand and said, “Shall we see if we can find her then?” He clambered off the table and gently slipped his hand inside mine and we set off back here. He waddled and looked around each corner as we made our way back to the Doctor, thankfully he seemed to know immediately where he was when we arrived. “Oh hello Johnny,” Dr Thana said, “do you want to play a few more games with me?” Johnny appeared to know who he was and seemed happy enough to be led over to another batch of equipment that Doctor Thana fixed onto his head. “This is so much fun for my little hero,” the Doctor encouraged as he fastened the helmet into position. “Now then Johnny, we need you to look at this screen and tell me what you see... okay?” Johnny bounced on his seat with excitement as a series of images—fruit, animals, signs—flashed by for a few seconds each. Some were familiar, some unfamiliar, and a few unexpectedly challenging though perhaps ones he should have known easily as a teenager. His brain activity was being monitored, and the team of assistants watched intently, fascinated by this unusual mental phenomena. On the screen, sections of his brain illuminated, but the colours didn't match the expected areas. Meanwhile, the graph tracking various protein combinations faltered when a white line, representing an unknown hormone, suddenly spiked in his hippocampus. “What the hell is that?” One confused assistant shouted in surprise. The Doctor looked around at his bewildered group. “That is something only Johnny has... and... what we need to analyse and name. We are possibly on the verge of something new in medical, psychological and pathological terms.” He looked around again at his stunned but enthused assistants, “As far as we know young Mister Benedict here is unique. So, we need to tread carefully and exclusively... obtaining as much information as possible whilst he is in this regressive state because that,” he pointed to the white spike, “is just unbelievable... and yet...” He looked over at his seemingly infantile patient who was still gleefully involved trying to name the items on the ever changing display of images on screen. “Whatever it is... seems to make him incredibly happy.” # tbc #

Plastikhosen heißen bei uns allgemein Gummihosen auch wenn sie nicht aus Gummi sondern aus pvc Folie sind. Ich trage jeden Tag Gummiosen auch mit und ohne Windel.

Als ich 10 war fing ich wieder an einzunässen. Meine Stiefmutter verordnete mir sofort Windeln und Gummihosen. Die Gummihosen waren ja nicht aus Gummi. Die Hosen waren aus glänzender und knisternder Pvc-Folie. Aber bei uns hießen sie allgemein Gummihosen. Im Beisein meiner älteren Stiefschwester und auch anderen Besuchern musste ich meine Hosen ausziehen und mich hinlegen. Mutti band mir dann die Windel um und zog mir die Gummihose an. Die Windel fand ich ja nicht so toll. Aber die Gummihose erregte mich sehr. Ich zog sie öfter ohne Windel an. Als ich 12 war bemerkte Mutti das ich die Gummihose ohne Windel trug. Ich musste meine Hose ausziehen und die Gummihose ohne Windel anziehen. Nachdem sie mir den Po versohlt hatte musste ich die Gummihose anziehen und durfte zu Hause als Hose nur eine Gummihose tragen. 

I think I was just over $4 when I filled up Friday morning.  I don't have any numbers for my hotel since I've been on vacation. I also can't quantify the week before because we were priced for Frontier Days. ($400-600 a night depending on the nightly events. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday being the cheapest due to actual rodeo events vs music acts.) But you are right @rusty pins, it affects us quite a bit. Over the summer, I've noticed more Rewards nights and 3rd party reservations than the standard or member rate stays. It makes me wonder: outside of school athletics and the business clientele that we normally have, we will be in decline. But we also have the data centers coming in. (The city is now being forced to actually vote on data centers rather than just plow through, thanks to a few petitions.)

Comeback win. (Week before was Frontier Days, and didn't have much time to get on.  Been on vacation for the past week, finally.) Now comes Sturgis and the motorcycles. (We're merely a stop.)