Trading Post

((Inspired by what Emma wants))   Marry sulked as she was forced to ever hear girls 3 years younger then her talking about prom and the boys they would marry.  She would she could be married off. Then she could be potty trained, taught how to read and maybe even write. That was a skill most girls her age had, most because some girls were like her.  If girls were treated like toddlers. Then girls like Marry might as well be infants as far as society at large was concerned.  See Marry had one thing that made her "special" she was a nonverbal autistic women. On top of that just like most of the women in the world she could barely walk, when and if she was allowed to do so, couldn't control her emotions and couldn't easily hold on to things. "Why are you so grumpy?" A cheerful condescending female voice asked as Marry felt the women prod at her diaper. The women was one of the many married women whos husbands volunteered them for special ed.  That was one of the most frustrating parts of being a special ed girl. Knowing you were just practice for women to learn how to change diapers and calm down a crying child. Something that Marry knew would happen the moment she had to make a mess in her diapers.  She watched as someone she had dubbed the bitch, a term she didn't really know the meaning of, rejected yet another guy. Marry was jealous every girl that got married.  That wasn't on the table for her. Not because she was ugly. With vibrant red hair, a body that couldn't seem to gain a single pound even when they were feeding her snacks by the hour, and freckles. Not only was she pretty in the face and weight side of things. She was also curvy with perky breasts. Said breasts were accented by tightness of the one size to small onesie she wore. Which was a not so subtle attempt at making her eye candy for the boys.  No the reason she could not be married was the law. A women with a disability be it physical or mental could not marry or have sexual intercourse. They were also to be adopted by the school once they would graduate.  So she sulked while her assigned mommy for the day fussed over her. She could smell the eggs and bacon being cooked for her. One of the few luxuries she had over the General female population. Meat. She obviously would not be feeding herself. But she had seen the oatmeal and cereal most women were forced to eat. Her "mommy" finished her fussing and grabbed the plate of meat. Though it would be better to call the thing a literal pile. A pile that marry would be forced to eat every bite of no matter how full she got. For a drink? A warm bottle of milk that was no doubt laced with a laxative. After all. She wouldn't be very good training if she wasn't constantly forced to make "boom booms" in her diapers. She was sure the excuse was phrased differently but she found that most of her "mommies" called her messes boom booms.  The first fork full of eggs was pressed against her lips and marry dejectedely opened her mouth. She didn't want to add a spanking to the morning.           

My God!  What the hell did you eat for dinner?

Wow!  They should make that a national day, like "Take your kid to work day"  "Remember, everyone, tomorrow is 'Wear A Diaper To Work Day'"

I wore a thin store brand diaper to the dentist once as I didn't want to look bulky and make it obvious I had a diaper on.  I really hadn't planned to use it, maybe a small pee, but once in the dentist chair it leans way back with your feet above your head.  I knew if I wet my diaper it would probably run right out the back and soak my pants and the chair.  Yes, I did have to get up half way through to use the bathroom since I pee a lot, every hour to hour and a half and it was a long procedure. 

Chapter 23: Morning arrived slowly after the quiet comfort of the night before.   Soft sunlight filtered through the hotel curtains while downtown Dallas gradually came alive outside. The sounds of distant traffic and city life drifted faintly upward, but inside the room everything still felt warm and sleepy.   Chris was the last one to fully wake up.   He lay curled beneath the blankets in his cowboy-print pajamas, Elvis tucked beneath one arm and Patches resting near his chest. His new cowboy hat sat carefully on the dresser where he’d insisted it “needed to sleep too.”   Bill smiled the second he looked over at him.   The sight was almost painfully adorable.   Eventually Chris blinked awake and immediately reached upward sleepily.   “Morning…”   Bill walked over and sat beside him on the bed.   “Morning, cowboy.”   Chris smiled weakly around his pacifier before scooting closer for a hug without hesitation.   Bill wrapped his arms around him immediately.   And for a few quiet moments they simply stayed there together while the room slowly brightened around them.   Bill could feel the clinginess in the way Chris held onto him.   Not upset. Not scared.   Just comfortable.   Safe.   It warmed something deep in Bill’s chest.   “You sleep okay?” Bill asked softly.   Chris nodded against him.   “Good.”   Then after a pause:   “Don’t wanna leave Texas.”   Bill chuckled quietly.   “Buddy, we’re still in Texas.”   Chris blinked.   “Oh.”   Bill laughed softly.   “Texas is very large.”   That seemed to satisfy him.   Soon the room shifted into travel mode once again.   Bill began tidying up while Chris helped in his own sleepy little way — gathering stuffed animals, carrying small items to the suitcase, and proudly announcing every time he “helped pack something important.”   Bill checked Chris’s diaper during the process and gave a knowing smile.   “Yep. Definitely needed checking.”   Chris groaned dramatically.   “Again?”   “That’s generally how time works.”   Chris laughed tiredly while Bill helped him get cleaned up and dressed for another long day on the road.   Today’s destination: Amarillo.   Another long drive.   Roughly six hours if traffic behaved.   And somewhere along the way?   Laundry.   At this point both of them had officially entered the “living out of suitcases” phase of the road trip.   Bill zipped the final suitcase shut while mentally reviewing everything:   stuffed animals, medicine, chargers, snacks, extra clothes, cowboy hats.   All accounted for.   Chris wandered over holding the diaper bag proudly against his chest despite it clearly being slightly too large for him.   “I carry this.”   Bill smiled warmly.   “You got it?”   Chris nodded seriously.   “Very responsible.”   Bill laughed softly and leaned down to kiss the top of his head.   “You really are.”   The check-out process downstairs went smoothly enough, and before long they were back in the parking garage preparing for another stretch of highway.   The Texas morning air already felt warm while sunlight reflected brightly off rows of parked cars.   Bill carefully settled Chris back into the car seat with practiced ease.   “There we go.”   Chris immediately held his arms up expectantly.   “Snack?”   Bill snorted.   “You are unbelievably predictable.”   A fresh bottle appeared first along with a small container of goldfish crackers. But this time, before handing everything over, Bill paused.   “Oh no.”   Chris blinked.   “What?”   Bill held up a bib.   “Absolutely not repeating the barbecue disaster from yesterday.”   Chris looked offended.   “That wasn’t my fault.”   “Elvis had sauce on his ear.”   Chris considered this carefully.   “…Maybe little bit my fault.”   Bill laughed and gently tied the bib around his neck before handing him the bottle and crackers.   “There. Much safer.”   Chris accepted this arrangement with only minor grumbling.   Soon Bill climbed into the driver’s seat and started the SUV again.   The GPS lit up.   West Texas.   Long highways. Open skies. Another chapter waiting ahead.   As Dallas slowly faded behind them, Chris sat quietly in the backseat drinking from his bottle while munching goldfish crackers one at a time.   The little bib turned out to be an excellent decision almost immediately.   Bill glanced into the rearview mirror and smiled softly at the sight: Chris in his car seat surrounded by Elvis, Patches, snacks, and blankets while sunlight flickered warmly across his face.   “You comfy back there?” Bill asked.   Chris nodded around the bottle.   “Ready for Amarillo.”   Bill smiled to himself and eased the SUV onto the interstate.   Ahead of them, Texas stretched endlessly beneath huge blue skies.   And mile by mile, the adventure continued west.     Chapter 24: The Texas highway seemed endless.   Mile after mile of open road stretched ahead beneath enormous blue skies while little towns appeared and disappeared in the distance like mirages. The farther west they drove, the flatter everything became.   Inside the SUV, though, things had grown peaceful again.   Chris had fallen asleep nearly an hour earlier.   Bill glanced into the rearview mirror and immediately smiled.   Chris sat curled comfortably in the car seat, cowboy hat tipped sideways slightly over messy hair while Elvis and Patches rested tucked against either side of him like tiny guardians. His bib still sat crookedly around his neck from snack time earlier, and one goldfish cracker remained loosely trapped in his lap.   Honestly?   Cuteness overload.   Bill’s chest softened every single time he looked back there.   The road trip had stripped away so much tension from Chris little by little. Sleeping like that — peaceful, secure, completely trusting — felt like proof that the trip was doing something good for both of them.   Eventually Bill realized they needed to handle another important road trip reality:   Laundry.   He tapped at the GPS screen mounted on the dashboard.   “Find nearest laundromat.”   The GPS processed for a moment before responding.   “Laundry facility located fifty-eight minutes ahead.”   Bill nodded.   Perfect.   That gave Chris time to sleep a little longer.   The drive continued quietly while sunlight rolled endlessly across the Texas plains. Occasionally giant trucks thundered past while country music hummed softly through the speakers.   Behind him, Chris slept through all of it.   At one point Bill glanced back again and noticed Chris unconsciously holding Elvis’s paw in his sleep.   That nearly finished him emotionally right there.   “You’re too adorable,” Bill muttered affectionately to himself.   Eventually buildings began appearing again near the highway — gas stations, diners, faded motels, and finally the small laundromat tucked beside a convenience store near the edge of a tiny Texas town.   Bill parked carefully and shut off the SUV.   The second the engine stopped, Chris stirred sleepily.   “We there?”   “Laundry stop.”   Chris groaned dramatically.   “That’s not exciting.”   Bill laughed softly while climbing out.   “Unfortunately clean underwear is part of survival.”   Chris blinked sleepily while Bill unbuckled him from the car seat.   And immediately Bill noticed the familiar crinkle.   He sighed knowingly.   “Well…”   Chris looked guilty instantly.   “I think maybe…”   “Buddy,” Bill interrupted gently, “I already know.”   Chris hid his face briefly against Elvis.   The diaper situation turned out impressive even by Chris standards.   “Wow,” Bill muttered while opening the diaper bag. “You weren’t kidding.”   Sometimes Chris became what Bill jokingly called a “super soaker,” especially during long naps in the car.   This was definitely one of those times.   The backseat diaper change quickly turned into another chaotic wrestling match against cramped space, sleepy limbs, wipes, and Texas heat.   Chris whined dramatically through most of it.   “It’s sticky.” “I’m tired.” “Elvis fell over.”   Bill tried not to laugh while balancing half inside the SUV.   “I know. We are experiencing adversity.”   Chris snorted weakly despite himself.   At one point Bill accidentally bumped his elbow against the roof again.   “Ow.”   Chris immediately giggled.   “You bonked yourself AGAIN.”   “This vehicle is personally attacking me.”   Eventually the crisis was resolved and Chris ended up fresh, comfortable, and much happier.   “There,” Bill announced triumphantly while helping him down from the SUV. “Human again.”   Chris nodded seriously.   “Much less squishy.”   Inside the laundromat, warm air and the smell of detergent wrapped around them immediately. Rows of washing machines rumbled loudly while dryers spun endlessly against the far wall.   It wasn’t glamorous.   But somehow it still felt like part of the adventure.   Bill began sorting clothes into washers while Chris settled himself at a small table near the front windows with Elvis beside him, a coloring book spread open, and crayons scattered around carefully.   His cowboy boots dangled off the edge of the chair while he colored with intense concentration.   Bill paused briefly just watching him.   There was something so pure about the sight.   Simple. Safe. Peaceful.   A couple nearby folding laundry eventually noticed too.   One older woman smiled warmly while nudging her husband gently.   “Oh my goodness,” she whispered softly. “Look at him.”   Bill glanced over.   The woman smiled kindly at Chris coloring beside the window.   “He looks absolutely precious sitting there.”   Chris looked up shyly around his pacifier before returning immediately to coloring.   Bill smiled warmly.   “He’s been a really good travel buddy.”   The older man chuckled.   “Well, he certainly looks happy.”   Bill glanced back toward Chris.   Crayons scattered everywhere. Elvis tucked carefully beside him. Cowboy boots swinging beneath the table.   Happy.   Yeah.   He really did.   And honestly?   Seeing that meant more to Bill than he could ever properly explain.   Soon the washers rumbled steadily behind them while Chris proudly held up a page from the coloring book.   “Daddy look!”   Bill walked over immediately.   The page showed a brightly colored cowboy standing beside a giant cactus beneath an enormous sun.   “That’s us,” Chris explained proudly.   Bill smiled softly.   “Looks just like us.”   Chris grinned.   And surrounded by spinning dryers, warm Texas sunlight, and the comforting ordinariness of doing laundry halfway across the country…   Bill realized again that some of his favorite memories from the trip weren’t the big attractions at all.   Sometimes it was just this:   A sleepy little laundromat somewhere in Texas. Chris coloring beside the window. And the quiet feeling that somehow, mile by mile, they were finding their way back to each other.