Scoop The Poop

Yeah, I had to think through that and the idea that 30 years in the future there will probably be some peppers bred to exceed Pepper X... With the fact things have seemingly doubled in the last ten to twenty years, there will probably be some insane 4,000,000 scoville pepper out there. (Which as much as I like spicy, I will not be eating! 🤣 ) 🤯 They're using pure capsaicin crystals I assume to get it that hot? That seems border line dangerous at that level... Sad you lost that certificate! You earned it! 😎 Glad you did! I had fun coming up with that one! Thanks! 🙂 By my calculations, it would just be a rear-facing car seat 🙂 Thanks! 🙂

Poor Vicky tried to save Emma, she wouldn't have travelled to that crazy dimension for any other purpose. And now she's in a more regressive state than Emma, facing the fate of Emma's younger sister.

And now we realize that if you buy garbage products you get leaks.  Looks like we need to switch to adult diapers, and she should wear them all the time. Mmhmm. Yup. 

A question just occurred to me. Will little Flory be the only one to be nursed? I know all the rest if her crew are more in the toddler range, but still...  

Chapter 27: Moment of Truth Any trace that I had wet myself in the laundry room was long gone by the time the doorbell rang several hours later. I had put off the rest of my chores until the last minute and had only just stepped back into the kitchen after taking the garbage out to the bin in the garage when Grace arrived home. Dad was the next to arrive home about five minutes later, followed by Mom, who had Jackson in tow. My stomach grumbled loudly. Usually, when Grace was home in the afternoon, she would often help with getting a few things prepped for dinner so that it would be easier for our parents to finish quickly once they were home from work. That wasn't the case with me. I had been expressly forbidden from touching the oven or the stove while they were away, and Dad didn't even feel comfortable with me chopping vegetables with his extra-sharp kitchen knives, even when he was around to supervise in the kitchen. It didn't seem likely that dinner prep was a responsibility I would be given anytime soon, not that it was something I was eager to add to my already more than long enough list of chores. I hid away in my bedroom until dinner, partly to read Harry Potter without any judgmental glances from my parents, but mostly so that I could continue to sneak glances at the package of pull-ups in my dresser. It felt like bedtime was still way too far away. There were so many questions that needed answering. Would this generic brand live up to the lofty expectations I had built up over the past three years? Dinner was spaghetti, steamed zucchini, and toasted garlic bread. I arrived at my spot at the table to a surprise. Unlike the past week, my glass was once again filled the same way as everyone else's. That was a welcome, although unexpected, concession from my parents, who had been diligent in limiting my fluid intake at and after dinner. It made sense. If I was going to wet the bed regardless of how much I had to drink, it didn't make all that much sense to have me stay thirsty all night long. Still, as much as I preferred having nice, filtered water to drink, I wasn't going to push my luck and go for a refill while still eating dinner. Jackson was too young and self-absorbed – rather like myself at his age – to even notice that something was different with my glass of water. On the other hand, I could see from the look on Grace's face as I took a large sip of water that she seemed to think this wasn't going to bode well for me come bedtime. That did raise another concern. Under no circumstances did I want Grace to find out that I was wearing pull-ups to bed. It was enough for her to know that I had been wetting the bed. With any luck, once she noticed that I was no longer doing any laundry in the morning, she would simply think that my short-lived bedwetting phase must have come to an end. I hadn't directly asked my parents to withhold that information from my older sister, but with how hush-hush they had been with all the bedwetting issues between us, not saying anything unless it was necessary to do so, I felt confident that my privacy would get respected in that matter. Wouldn't she be surprised when the next few days passed without me doing any extra laundry? I wondered if it wasn't too late to get my old bed back. Surely, I wouldn't need that now that I had pull-ups to keep my sheets dry. The rest of the evening ticked by all too slowly. Instead of hiding in her bedroom, as was her usual routine after dinner, Grace was in the living room with me and our parents. I would have preferred that she wasn't around for the request I had for Dad, but I figured that it probably wouldn't make any difference. I needed something, anything, to pass the time. And I figured now was as good a time as ever to see if Dad would unblock that website Hannah had mentioned to me over the weekend so that I could access the supposed treasure trove of Harry Potter stories on it. Dad frowned slightly as I named the website that I wanted to be able to visit. I made sure not to mention why I was specifically interested in it, as I suspected that it wouldn't help my cause. "And who mentioned this site to you?" he asked. "Um, Hannah?" "And Hannah is?" "Emma's cousin. She was visiting over the weekend." "I see," Dad said. He pulled out his phone and began to tap on it. I assumed that he must be checking out the website. I crossed my legs as I waited anxiously for his answer. I didn't see what was taking so long. There couldn't be any way that Hannah would have told me about visiting a site that was anything bad. "Probably best if you didn't go reading stories on there," Dad said. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Grace sitting on the couch. She appeared to be biting her lip. "But Hannah did, and she's my age..." I nearly mentioned the fact that Hannah was autistic, but I also wasn't sure that would help my case, either. Dad set his phone down. "Just because her parents let her doesn't mean that it's a good idea. If you need more books to read, I'm sure Grace could run you over to the library." "No, I'm fine." Grace seemed relieved with that answer. <><><>  I didn't bother hiding the Harry Potter book I was reading when Mom called my name after knocking on the bedroom door. "Yes, you can come in." Instead of just cracking the door open a couple of inches, like she usually did when she had something to tell me, Mom stepped inside the bedroom and closed the door behind her before walking up to my bed. "Are you still wanting to try that, um, new underwear I got for you tonight?" Mom asked in a hushed tone. New underwear, now, that was certainly one way to refer to the pull-ups. I nodded. It seemed rather unnecessary for Mom to come up here like that to ask that question. "OK, we'll see how they work then," Mom said. "It's getting late enough, so you should get ready for bed, and don't forget to use the toilet after you brush your teeth." I did make sure to brush my teeth, but only for about twenty seconds, rather than the full two minutes that Mom and Dad always insisted that I did. And then I was alone again in the bedroom, staring down at the package of pull-ups in my dresser drawer. There was a dotted line on the side of the package that seemed to indicate that this was where I was supposed to tear it open. That seemed as good a way as any to get it open, better than risking cutting too much with scissors. I ripped open the package all the way and removed a single pull-up from the package. As I held the pull-up in my hands, it appeared as though this pull-up was decidedly inferior in every imaginable way to the one of Hannah's that I had worn just the other day. The first issue was with how the pull-up looked. It wouldn't technically be correct to call these pull-ups ugly. Boring and plain were more apt descriptors. The pull-up was mostly white, with some gray patterns down the middle of the front and back. I couldn't really tell what they were supposed to be designs of. I emptied the remaining ten pull-ups from the package into my underwear drawer, trying to see if there were any others with better designs on them. Nope. They all had the exact same boring pattern, unlike the pull-up brand I had wanted, which came with two separate designs. But that was far from the only difference that I noticed. As I held the pull-up in my hands, I practiced spreading out its stretchy sides. They didn't seem as malleable as the Hannah's pull-ups had been. They were a little rougher to the touch and not as stretchy. Still, as I held them stretched out against my waist, it seemed as though I wouldn't have any difficulty fitting into them. At the sound of footsteps in the hallway, I hastily dropped the pull-up back into the drawer and slammed it shut. I waited until the steps had passed my room, and I heard what I assumed to be Grace's bedroom door open and close. With the hallway once again silent, it was time for the first test. I undressed and once again opened the top drawer of my dresser. My hands weren't shaking anywhere, nearly as bad as when I had put a pull-up. I once again stretched the pull-up open, slipping in one leg and then another through the leg gatherings before pulling it up to my waist. That was when I noticed the last two differences with this pull-up. The way that it fit around my waist didn't feel the same, and the sides of the pull-up were just a little scratchy. The other sensation that was different was the padding between my legs. It felt stiffer and not as soft as the two previous pull-ups I had worn. I tried to remind myself that it didn't matter what the pull-up looked like – no one else was going to see it except me. All that mattered was that it did what it was supposed to do, keep my bed dry when I wet it later tonight. Wetting it wasn't going to be that much of a challenge. Yes, I used the toilet when I went to brush my teeth. I knew better than to disobey Mom's request that I do so. But with my parents not having restricted my liquids tonight, along with still having had a few sips from my secret water bottle, I estimated that I would be feeling the urge to pee again in about another hour. That didn't stop me from once again removing the water bottle from its hiding place and taking a few last gulps. I stood in front of my dresser for a moment with nothing but the pull-up and a t-shirt. My annoyance at not getting the exact product I had dreamt of began to fade away. This was it. After all those long years of waiting. I finally had pull-ups of my own. I thought back to everything I had gone through to get to this point since that fateful moment with my cousins three years back. The inability to find pull-ups in the house, the slow process of learning more about diapers and pull-ups through all the ads I would sneak looks at. The time I had attempted – and failed quite badly – at creating a makeshift diaper for myself. The way I had kept my eyes and ears peeled for any news or glimpse of diapers while in public. The times I had chickened out of taking diapers from friends of my parents who had kids who weren't potty trained. All the times when I had considered going through with becoming a bedwetter, only to back out at the last minute. Getting to this moment had been my constant, single obsession. I wasn't going to let anything ruin it. I thought, for a moment, about what I should wear to bed. I considered putting on some pajama shorts, but decided against them. I didn't want anything preventing me from feeling and seeing the pull-up once I was in bed. I knew I couldn't linger long in front of the dresser. Yes, Jackson was supposed to be in bed, but I didn't even want to think about how I would have to explain things if he or anyone else were to spot me in this state of undress. I tiptoed speedily across the room to turn off the light switch, suddenly conscious of how noisily the pull-up crinkled as I moved. I was extremely grateful I was only going to have to pretend to Mom that I wore it during upcoming sleepovers this summer. I hurried to get all the lights off, and then I slipped under the covers of my bed. The crinkling sound of the pull-up soon became lost in the crinkling of my waterproof mattress. The next hour passed by way too slowly. I tried to find ways to distract myself as I waited for my bladder to fill, but I couldn't keep my mind – or my hands – off of the pull-up for long. I kept reaching down to feel the outside of the pull-up, reassuring myself that, yes, it was actually real and I was actually wearing it. I found that I enjoyed the sensation of having all the padding between my legs as much as I had before, though I suspected it would take a while to get used to falling asleep like this. It was almost hard to believe that this crazy scheme had worked. Mom and Dad fully believed I was an actual bedwetter. Even Grace did as well, even if I would have preferred that she have remained completely ignorant of what was happening. I stared at my phone in annoyance. Why had Dad made such a big deal about me wanting to visit that website? I couldn't see how it could be a big deal if even Hannah was allowed to use it. And nothing she had said about the Harry Potter fanfiction stories had made it seem like they would be anything my parents would consider inappropriate for me. That would have been a perfect way to pass the time tonight. It might have even been enough to temporarily distract me from the pull-up I was wearing. Instead, I used the flashlight on my phone to continue reading the Harry Potter book I had started earlier this afternoon. I made sure to do so from under my covers. Even with the door shut, my parents would be able to tell if I had the lights on yet. Yes, I had a later bedtime during summer break, but that didn't mean that there still wasn't the expectation that I would need to go to bed at some point. Unlike previous nights, I didn't bother with waiting until my parents were asleep and in bed. It wasn't as though I was going to need privacy to go down to the laundry room and put wet bedding in the laundry machine. I figured I would just fall asleep in the wet pull-up and deal with cleaning up in the morning. With my bladder finally telling me it was ready to go, I set my phone and book aside and rolled over beneath the covers. I laid on my stomach like I had done previously when forcing myself to wet the bed. After more than a week of practice, I had become comfortable letting my bladder go from that position as long as I had a reasonably strong need to pee. I was squirming, both out of the need to pee and in anticipation of what I was finally about to do. I took one final deep breath and let everything go. For a moment, it was everything I could have dreamed that it was going to be. It was warm. Oh so warm, and it was all contained in one spot. I hadn't really thought much about how it would feel specifically to wet a pull-up, what did catch me by surprise was how it felt as though the absorbent material in the pull-up was greatly expanding into a squishy mass between my legs. Then everything went wrong. I felt something wet in a spot that should have been dry. I slid my hand around the outside of the pull-up. My bare thighs were undeniably wet, and there was a smallish wet spot that had expanded directly on the sheets around my waist. There was no mistaking what had happened. Disaster had struck. The pull-up had leaked.   --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/