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My wife is the only person allowed to change my diaper. I do not mind t. She also give me a paci and bottle sometimes during the diaper change -
Yes I think I will have to be diapered to some extent. Meaning I will have to either wear a pullup or a diaper. Since I am still leaky sometimes. -
By MinnesotaWriter · Posted
Chapter 32: Definitions Breakfast did, in fact, contain a lot of bacon. There was plenty of other stuff as well. Sliced grapefruits, French toast, scrambled eggs, and yogurt. The plate I filled up before heading to the dining room table was mostly bacon with the smallest slice of French toast I could find. I didn’t really care for it, but I knew my parents would say something if I didn’t eat anything other than bacon. Yogurt was plain yucky, and I would rather eat almost anything else other than grapefruit. The one bonus was Mom had at least purchased the right kind of orange juice – pulp free – for me. I had a completely full glass of it. There wasn’t any point in restricting how much I drank during breakfast. Everyone said happy birthday at least once as I sat down at the table. I was just glad that there wasn’t a muffin with a candle on it to have them sing happy birthday to me like they had done last year. “How does it feel to finally be a teenager?” Mom asked. My mouth was already full of bacon, so I shrugged my shoulders. Honestly, I didn’t feel any different from the day before. It was weird. I’d had been looking forward to it for so long, but it wasn’t like anything was all that different. I looked and felt the same as yesterday. “She does still have a few hours till it counts for real,” Grace said. I just rolled my eyes and stuck a fork in a greasy piece of bacon. Everyone else was eating it with their fingers, but I didn’t like the feeling of my hands being that messy while I was eating. Dad reminded my siblings of the birthday plans for the evening. Jackson was indifferent, but Grace wasn’t able to hide that she was shocked. “Wait, Maddy is having a sleepover tonight?” Grace asked with a barely disguised incredulity. I realized, rather belatedly, that my older sister must have suspected that something was up, but she should have noticed that the morning laundry had come to a stop after my doctor’s appointment. I would be fine as long as that could be attributed to my bedwetting ending as abruptly as it had begun, rather than her thinking that I was now wearing diapers to bed. Jackson was busy chowing down on his French toast, but his presence at the dining room table thankfully prevented the conversation from delving directly into the topic of bedwetting. “Yes, your sister is all set to have a sleepover without any issues,” Mom said. “Angie and Emma will be over shortly before dinner, so I’ll need you to spend a little time helping to get things straightened up before they arrive.” Grace looked over at me after Mom had finished with her explanation. I tried to keep a neutral face. Did she believe that the bedwetting had actually stopped? “Fine,” Grace muttered, “just as long as they leave me alone.” That wouldn’t be an issue. Grace didn’t care much for hanging out with my friends, and the feeling was mutual. That lone time she had taken us to be dropped off at the mall a couple of weeks back had been the most interaction she’d had with Angie and Emma in ages. Thankfully, Grace’s interrogation came to a quick end. I managed to eat a half-dozen slices of thick bacon and a couple of bites of French toast before I was too stuffed to eat anything else. My birthday fun was put on hold as soon as I was done with breakfast. I was immediately banished to my bedroom to get it tidied up for tonight. It wasn’t like my friends typically spent much time in my bedroom, and, with my new extra crinkly mattress, I didn’t have any plans of inviting them up, either. That didn’t stop Mom from making me clean it as thoroughly as possible. I had been warned earlier in the week that I would need to have everything tidied up, but as Mom hadn’t officially cleared the sleepover until I had once again woken up Saturday morning to a dry bed, it had been hard to motivate myself to actually do anything more than pick up a few clothes off of the floor. That is to say, I was forced to spend the morning of my thirteenth birthday cleaning my bedroom. I surveyed my bedroom. I didn’t think it was all that bad, but Mom didn’t agree. The problem was that our definitions of cleanliness were vastly different. It was not that we both didn’t think that everything needed to be in the right spot; it was just that our understanding of what the right spot to put things in didn’t always line up all that well. For me, as long as I could remember where something was, that was enough. For Mom, everything had to have a specific place to be put away, and it had to be done in a neat and orderly fashion. The next couple of hours passed slowly. I ended up sitting on my bed reading for most of the time rather than getting to work tidying up the room. I would listen carefully for the sound of someone coming up the stairs or down the hallway and would hastily tuck the book under the pillow and start the cleaning up again for a few minutes anytime there was the possibility that Mom might be coming to check on my progress. Most of my cleaning had involved collecting miscellaneous odds and ends and stuffing them in the closet or the drawers beneath my bed. Mom was that way with the rest of the house, but she never allowed it to get to the point of being super messy, so getting ready for guests was never a huge chore. Jackson had been given his own set of cleaning chores to do, but that mostly consisted of picking up his toys so that Grace could help with vacuuming. The distant sound of footsteps coming up the stairs caused me to tuck my book once again under my pillow as I sprung out of bed and pretended to be organizing a bookshelf. There was a knock at the door, and I yelled to Mom that she could come in. “We need to talk about the plan for tonight,” Mom said as she was in my bedroom with the door shut firmly behind her. She looked around at the state of my room. It didn’t seem like she was all that impressed with my progress – or lack thereof – in the few hours since breakfast. “When it is time to get changed into your pajamas, you need to make sure you don’t forget to put your bedtime underwear on.” It had been a while since we had directly talked about the pull-ups she had purchased for me. I had very much preferred our arrangement, where she and Dad would let me handle everything for myself. “Mom, I’m not going to forget.” Mom stared back at me. “There’s going to be a lot going on for the sleepover, and I know it’s easy for you to get caught up in things. I had an idea to help make it easier for you. I know you don’t normally get a lot of privacy to dress by yourself during sleepovers, so I’m going to leave a pair of bedtime underwear in the downstairs bedroom for you.” “Mom. No.” Mom held up an opaque makeup bag. “Why don’t we put two of them in here, just in case? I’ll tuck it in the back of the cupboard under the sink. No one else will notice it. I’ve even put some plastic baggies in there so you can toss it without someone seeing that it has been put in the garbage.” I didn’t like Mom’s plan, but I could hardly say no to it. My intention all along had been to just not wear the pull-up to bed during the sleepover. It wasn’t like I was going to have an actual bedwetting accident. And since I had had a few nights where I had stayed dry, I could play it off as just getting lucky for the sleepover. But with Mom setting all of that up for me, avoiding wearing a pull-up would be an impossible task to pull off. What if Mom were to check that container later and discover that I hadn’t actually taken a pull-up out of it? “Fine,” I said. “OK, but I need you to help me get some to put in it. Where are you keeping them?” That last question led to me needing to awkwardly walk over to my dresser, cringing as I pulled open the top drawer to reveal that the remaining pull-ups had been crammed in hap hazardously with my socks and underwear. I handed Mom two of the pull-ups while trying to keep the disarray out of view, but I wasn’t successful. Mom leaned in to take a look at the rest of the dresser. I didn’t understand the point of folding underwear. It got all crinkling under my clothes, anyway. And I hated having to go through my socks and put together matching pairs. It was much easier to just have them all in one pile in my dresser, where I could take out any two that looked like they might be a good fit while I was getting dressed. “Madelyn, this is a mess,” Mom said, sifting through the pile of socks. “I’ve told you before that everything needs to be sorted and folder before it goes into the dresser.” I knew better at this point than to argue. I hadn’t been successful in my other attempts to get Mom to see my point of view on how laundry should be managed. But then Mom had the gumption to pull open the remaining dresser drawers, which revealed much of the same issue. I had folded my shirts, well, perhaps most of them. But the rest — shorts, leggings, and other items – had been balled up and stuffed randomly in the rest of the dressers. I stood anxiously with my legs crossed as I watched Mom look at each of the drawers. Thankfully, all the items I intended to keep hidden from her – the dry pull-up from last night and the diaper and pull-up advertisements – were instead in the drawers beneath my bed. I couldn’t help but glance over at them as well. If Mom was intent on seeing how I had organized everything, was she going to stop with my dresser and not check everything else out? I didn’t have that luck. Mom proceeded to check the drawers beneath my bed, though at least those were deep and she didn’t do much more than a cursory glance to see that like with everything else, I had pretty much just stuffed all the things I had needed to put away into the drawers without taking any time to make things neat or organized. “You’ll need to tackle this later,” Mom said. “It will have to do for now. Your room isn’t clean just because you jammed everything out of sight, but you need to get all your clothing re-folded.” “But Mom, that is going to take too long.” “There is plenty of time until your friends arrive. It would have been quicker if you had cleaned up your room right the first time, but it still needs to be done.” There was no escape at this point. Mom left to go to her own bedroom and was doing some tidying up there, which seemed exceptionally pointless to me. I mean, why did it matter if it was a little disorganized or messy? It wasn’t as though any of my friends would be checking it out. The problem was that Mom was only ever a few steps into the hallway, away from being able to see what I was doing in my bedroom. I emptied out each drawer individually onto my bed, re-folding all the clothes before tucking them back into place. I wanted the fun parts of being a teenager, not the assumption that I was supposed to do everything in the responsible way my parents wanted it done. As I finished finally placing all my newly sorted and folded clothing back into the dresser, I tried to figure out what I was going to do about the pull-up tonight. I thought about how I had heard a crinkling sound occasionally when I had been around Hannah. What excuse would I give my friends if they began to ask what the sound was or where it was coming from? I tried to remind myself that even though the sound had stood out, I hadn’t connected it to her wearing pull-ups until Hannah had been on the swing and had accidentally shown me what was beneath her skirt. I would be safe tonight. My friends didn’t know I wore pull-ups. They would have zero reason to even think there was the remotest possibility that I had one on when I was around them. After the third inspection, the state of my room finally received Mom’s seal of approval, and with the rest of the house all clean, everything was set for my friends to arrive in a few hours. Given all the chaos of the past week – some of it good, some of it, well, not very good – a birthday sleepover would be a welcome return to normal. --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/ -
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By kittengirl173 · Posted
Sorry it's been a bit. I've been busy with job apps, college graduation, and just chilling, ha ha. I hope to post a new one-off story soon. I've been working on it for a while and it's almost done! After that I'll work on the next chapter. Chapters for this story are faster to write since I've already established the characters and the voice feel for each.
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