The Suit 1-18

[Marcus]

On 9/20/2018 at 3:47 AM, Les Lea said:

Part 2

 

I had plenty of time to think about my situation. Of course, the class would have a field day from then on, mum and dad would be none too pleased and I could hear my brothers thoroughly enjoying my humiliation with their not so subtle barbed quips

 

At last mum arrived carrying a large bag, which I hoped would contain some fresh clothes.

 

“Hi mum,” I said nervously. “Sorry about all this… erm, uh, it was an accident.”

 

Although she kissed the top of my head in greeting I detected she wasn’t very happy at having been summoned to pick me up.

 

“You okay sweetheart?”

 

There was little affection in the acknowledgment.

 

I nodded but matron had come out to meet mum and they disappeared into her office without me and without leaving her bags for me to get changed.

 

I could hear talking but it was very low and I didn’t get much of an idea what exactly was being discussed.

 

A few minutes later mum surfaced but without the bag.

 

“Can I change…?”

 

“Sorry Adam, that was things matron needed for any future ‘accidents’.”

 

She emphasised the last word and I knew I was in trouble from her tone.

 

“But mum, I, I, I… erm…”

 

“Let’s get you home and changed…”

 

“Mum I can’t walk around the school dressed like this people will see and… and…”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about that…”

 

Before I could say another word she grabbed my hand and was leading me out of school, across the playground and out onto the main street where we had to catch a bus home. I felt so self-conscious standing in the queue waiting for a Number 63 that would take us to the end of our street because I knew the little white nylon shorts were showing the world I was wearing a thick disposable.

 

#

 

I didn’t know what to say - I was grumpy, scared and ashamed.  The way mum all but dragged me out of school meant I was on very dodgy ground if I complained and, like I was a little kid, she still held my hand as we waited. My school blazer didn’t cover much of my childish shorts so the thick padding protruding from the leg holes was very obvious.

 

I felt awful, I could feel the emotion begin to fill me up. Mum must be so humiliated by her grammar school going son wetting his pants in class. What kind of eleven (almost twelve) year old has that kind of accident “… it beggars belief”.

 

It wasn’t a long bus ride but it was a very guilty journey. I wasn’t sure I could justify falling asleep in class, even for a few seconds, without me sounding a little thoughtless and pathetic. Even though this was a one off, for some reason I knew this was a turning point in mum’s opinion of me. She’d been so proud of her youngest going to grammar school but now everyone could see that I was nothing but a pant-wetting baby who was obviously way out of his depth.

 

Mum was taking no notice of my ‘sniffles’ and whispered ‘sorrys’ and we didn’t speak until we got home.

 

#

 

The main thing I wanted when we got through the door was a hug. A hug that meant that mum understood it was an accident and that I was sorry to have caused her such embarrassment. Alas she had me stand in the kitchen whilst she unfurled the plastic bag matron had given me with my damp clothes in. Unceremoniously she emptied my shorts and underpants in to the washing machine, where my night time fabric nappies had been soaking since the morning.

 

She sighed and shrugged her shoulders as if she’d come to a conclusion.

 

 “Okay Adam, go and take off your uniform and hang it up… give me those shorts I’ll give them a rinse through… but keep the disposable on.”

 

“But mum I don’t want…”

 

“At this moment Adam, it’s best I don’t hear any argument from you… just do as you’re told. I’ll be up in a minute.”

 

I’ve never seen mum really lose her temper, well, not with me, but I could tell she wasn’t happy about the day’s events. I furtively made my way upstairs, scared that the disposable crinkling might make too much noise and I didn’t want to upset her in any way.

 

Once in my room I did as I was told and hung up my blazer and tie, put my shirt on a hanger, then took off my shoes and put my socks, one of which still felt damp from my accident, into the hamper in the bathroom and waited for mum.

 

The disposable was a lot bigger than the one I’d worn before and as I inspected it my mind began to wander… and wonder. I wondered what it would be like to wet such a large object? How many times would I have to pee to completely saturate it and how much would it expand as a result?

 

If I did a poo in it how much would it hold?

 

#

 

I’d not had any such thoughts before, even when mum put me in my first night time nappy a while ago; it must have been the novelty of the disposable.

 

I was standing in front of the mirror, examining it from all angles, completely absorbed in these questions when mum came in. She sat down on my bed and tapped the space by her side as an invitation.

 

She looked at me in a very serious manner as if she was deciding just how to approach a difficult subject.

 

“What’s going on with you at the moment?”

 

Her eyes searched my face desperate for an answer that would be realistic and plausible.

 

I had no idea. I knew I’d begun to wet in my sleep but other than that, the accident at school was just that, an accident.

 

“Nothing mum, honest.”

 

“What about your bed wetting?”

 

“Erm, um, er, I, I, I don’t know. I just wake up wet and I can’t remember any reason why I should.”

 

“Do you know you’re doing it?”

 

I hated this question because it made it sound like I wanted to pee my pants and I didn’t. I was on the verge of tears.

 

“Nooooo.”

 

Why would anyone want to wet the bed, or worse, wet in front of their entire class. Of course I don’t mean to do it. I didn’t say that I hoped my emphatic denial would be enough.

 

I’m not a liar. Mum knows I don’t tell fibs because when I was younger and did, my face would just go red and she’d know instantly… so I don’t lie to her or dad.

 

“Are you being bullied?”

 

“No mum, nothing like that honest. I just don’t know. I mean, I was just not paying attention in class today and before I knew it…”

 

I left the obvious outcome as I indicated the huge disposable I was now wearing.

 

“Did you fall asleep in class?”

 

It was a tricky question because I’d been thinking about this and I might have just nodded off for a short while. I didn’t want to admit to mum I’d found the teacher’s voice and subject both boring but…  ‘Yes’, I did drift off.

 

“Mmm maybe.”

 

“Oh Adam.”

 

She seemed genuinely disappointed and that made me feel guilt-ridden.

 

“I’m sorry mum it won’t happen again, honest.”

 

She sighed.

 

#

 

“Look Adam, the school has very high standards and a boy who wets his pants in class, well; it isn’t looked on with any degree of sympathy.”

 

I looked at mum wondering if I’d been expelled and began to tear up again.

 

“I’m sorry mum,” I sniffled into her bosom hoping for some comfort, “It won’t happen again.”

 

She hugged me close and patted my padded bottom.

 

She sighed again and pulled me away so she could see my face.

 

“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to wearing protection for school because…”

 

I roared as the full weight of what she was telling me sunk in. There was no holding back the tears and it was a good five minutes before she could calm me down.

 

“They will not put up with boys of any age wetting in class. I couldn’t convince them you don’t have a problem especially when they asked if you wet at home and, sorry darling, but I had to be honest about you wearing protection at night.”

 

She hugged me close.

 

“So from now on, until I can convince them otherwise… you’ll need to wear protection for school.”

 

So the package mum brought was ‘insurance’ the school wanted so they could sort out any future accidents. I was both angry and impressed. Angry that they assumed it was going to be a regular thing but impressed that they intended to make sure I didn’t miss any lessons because of it.

 

Mum surreptitiously patted and checked my disposable and decided I was dry enough.

 

“Let’s get you sorted,” she said and produced a pair of glassy white plastic pants to pull over the large mass of material.

 

“This should keep you… and everything else dry…”

 

She smoothed and patted the slinky material down.

 

“You might as well stay in them for the time being.”

 

She passed me a pair of hand-me-down grey shorts, which were a little baggier than usual but now, thanks to the bulk around my waist, fitted perfectly.

 

#

 

“The headmaster has said that you are falling behind in class because you aren’t concentrating and that you’re easily distracted. He hopes that if you have to wear a nappy it might focus your mind a little more.”

 

Tears were cascading down my face but I couldn’t disagree, I was finding it very difficult to keep focused in lessons. However, I hadn’t known it was that obvious, that it had been noticed, that the Head was involved and now my mum knew. I felt like I’d let everyone down and as punishment, I was being put permanently back in nappies.

 

“Look sweetheart, don’t be too downhearted… it’s the weekend in three days… then you have seven days end-of-term break and… Auntie says your new suit is ready so I’ve arranged for you to go over and stay with her for a while.”

 

The thought of soon having my own grown-up suit was just the information I needed to lift me from the current low ebb. I hoped I could manage nappies in school until the weekend before we had a week’s holiday and hopefully, by my return to lessons, I’d be cured of my wetting problem.

 

However, that night I slept in the disposable the school had put me in but still woke up soaked the following morning. I wasn’t sure why I thought it would make a difference… but it hadn’t.

 

I think I slept better wearing the disposable than the fabric nappy but mum had mentioned that we weren’t made of money, and disposables were expensive, so it would be re-useable, well-padded fabric nappies until I was able to use the toilet properly.

 

I don’t think mum was chastising me, just letting me know the way things were and how the school saw things. I knew I would have to ‘grow out of it’, as my brothers kept telling me when I complained about their constant ribbing, but I didn’t know how. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.

 

That morning mum cleaned me up, pinned me tightly in a fabric nappy with a couple of soaker pads, made sure the thick rubber pants contained everything and sent me off to school as usual.

 

#

 

I walked slowly; there was a slight rustling sound as the rubber worked against my polyester grey shorts, which I hoped no one but me could hear. It felt a bit uncomfortable though I’m sure at certain angles, that glossy white latex protection was visible and easily identifiable. I was anxious the entire day but not once did I feel like falling asleep in a lesson. So the Head had been right about that.

 

#

 

At night you don’t really feel the way a nappy can bunch up or grab your bits and pieces and hold them in a strange way. But, wearing them during the day, I was very aware I had this huge piece of padding between my legs... I couldn’t help continually adjusting them.

 

#

 

For school Wednesday, Thursday and Friday I wore the same ‘underwear’ and got the same comments and jokes. Kids holding their noses announcing they could smell pee, baby references, offers to change my diaper (how very American some of them had become) and almost continuous pats to my padded backside. Each day my nappy was quite damp by the time I got home but I think this was more from fear of revealing it if I went to the boy’s room - although, to be honest, in retrospect, I might have only been fooling myself on this.

 

Thankfully, I avoided any further calamities and my protection prevented any further wet stains appearing on my shorts. This meant that the supply of disposables mum had left with matron remained unused, although she did look at me suspiciously because I hadn’t been to see her.

 

As I say, I’m not a fighter so just had to put up with it but as far as I was concerned the week’s break couldn’t come soon enough. On top of that, getting away from my equally irritating brothers (who were taking great pleasure in my humiliation), to stay with auntie seemed the best possible solution to my current low esteem.

 

“Hey mum,” Joe shouted across the room one morning when I came down in a very wet nappy, “Is there a grammar kindergarten anywhere locally for my clever baby brother?”

 

He laughed at his own joke but mum gave him such a look it soon wiped the smile off his face.

 

#

 

I’d woken up this promising Saturday morning unfortunately wet, very wet, so mum made me wear thick protection (she said ‘we’ were not taking any chances). Once I was all cleaned up surprisingly she produced a disposable only a slightly bit smaller than the one matron had fastened me in. This fit me better, and because of the extra padding she inserted into it, it felt a lot tighter.

 

Once she’d added the plastic pants I thought I was definitely well protected for what was really just an hour’s journey time.

 

Actually, it was two trips; the first was the bus from home into town, and then catch another bus across town to get up to auntie’s house. I thought I could last that long easily and, as I didn’t want to wear a nappy any longer than I had to, hoped that once I got to auntie’s she would let me wear my normal underwear.

 

However, there is a saying I’ve heard my father use – the best-laid plans of mice and men…

 

I was about to find out just what that phrase meant.

 

# tbc #

 

Wow any smart parent would see that it's the school and the boy can't handle the pressure. If it was my son and I was told what the school said to her that's when I would of said that this school isn't good enough for my son and that would of been the last time he would of been at that school. She is embarrassed so now she going to take it out on him. I'm sorry your kids come first. Be a mom be supportive to your child. Take him to a Dr get him checked out. Also letting her other boys tease him. Come on that right there would come to end believe me those boys would be wearing a diaper for months for doing it.