24/7 startups, and unexpected pitfalls?

[Little Sherri]

I had an interesting diaper dream last night. I recall it fairly vividly, because I woke up at 5 AM for some reason, then struggled to fall back to sleep, then fell into a deep sleep from which I was brutally yanked by my alarm, at 7 am. The quick extraction from the dream served to allow me to take some quick notes. 

In the dream, I was at a resort of some sort, in a seaside local, somewhere with nice weather. We seemed to be sharing a suite with my brother. There were a number of other people that we know at the location as well, various friends of ours, and, my sister was there. I can envision possibly getting together with some of my friends at a resort, with my brother, but I can't imagine circumstances under which my sister would also be there. I never actually saw her, or my parents, but there was a vague feeling that they were around. 

Anyway, at some point, I was going to get changed into a bathing suit, I think, and had removed my shorts, when I became aware that my brother urgently needed his wallet for some reason, at the other side of the resort. I had a t-shirt and a diaper on, and I decided to quickly jog over and give him his wallet, however when I left the room, I realized that the door locked behind me, and that I hadn't brought the room key with me. But then, I had an epiphany that my brother would have one, so I could borrow his to get back into the room, once I dropped him his wallet. I then proceeded to walk across this resort, most of which was indoors, more like a large Vegas hotel, than a resort in Mexico or the Dominican Republic. On my way over, I kept running into people we know, and I was kind of trying to pull my t-shirt down over my diaper, but, not in a panicked way at all - for some reason, I thought that anyone looking at me would probably just think I was wearing a bathing suit. I eventually found my brother and gave him the wallet, and then I made my way back to our room, and then I got my own keycard, and then - get this - I headed back out to deliver the borrowed keycard to my brother, while I was still in the diaper. I became vaguely uneasy about having to pass through some sort of gymnasium, on my way across the complex, because I had an inkling that my sister was in there, even though I didn't see her. My thought was that she would be the one to raise difficult questions about what I was wearing, even though I was passing through busy hallways and lobbies, with no pants on, and I was largely unfussed about it. I had a slight feeling of discomfort, but nothing proportional to the actual circumstances, until I decided my sister was in the gym I had to walk through. 

While walking through the gym, I woke up. 

The part about the presence of my sister making me uneasy makes sense, from a historical perspective, because back when I was a kid, she was the one who usually mentioned my diaper, either to point out that I was still in it, or, to ask if I should be in one... there was no pleasing her. If I was wearing one, it was "Mom, he's still wearing his diaper." If I wasn't wearing one, it was "Mom, shouldn't he wear a diaper...?" 

One aspect of the dream that was really interesting to me is this: in the dream, I was wearing a recognizable diaper, which almost never happens. I have had several diaper dreams, many of them chronicled here, but, as far as I can recall, I was never wearing a specific brand of diaper. This time, in the dream, I was wearing the diaper I had gone to bed in (and the one I am in now), an ABU Little Kings, the oversized mid-2000's Pampers replica. 

I wonder if the dream was inspired by my impending trip overseas, and my concerns around sharing accommodations with some of my buddies, hopefully without my baby pants getting on the radar. 

[Little Sherri]

Well, another diaper dream invaded my sleep last night... but this time, it was one my wife had, apparently. Background: for as long as I've shared sleeping quarters with her, she's been known to talk in her sleep, usually just utterances of surprise or displeasure, but sometimes, she's issued discernable sentences, admonishing recalcitrant customer service personnel, or careless motorists. 

This time, I woke up to her muttering something indiscernible; I'm not sure if that's what woke me up, or if it's just coincidental. I reached for the bottle of water that I keep on my night table, then rolled over to try and drift back into the dark waters of oblivion, when she spoke again: "Ha! Privacy. You wear diapers! There's no privacy." 

I sat bolt upright and looked at her in the dark, waiting for something further, but she muttered something that sounded like it was in another language, and then began snoring again. 

Part of me wanted to ask her what she had dreamed about, when we got up this morning, but we were in a rush, and, before she's had coffee, asking her ANY questions can be a dangerous game, but, particularly if the first topic I plan to bring up is her thoughts on my having dressed like a toddler under my clothes for the last 3.5 years. 

But it was an interesting utterance. 

In other news, I think that I've settled on a solution for wearing diapers while I'm travelling and sharing accommodations with my friends for a week overseas. I have purchased boxer shorts. This was not an easy decision - I haven't owned underwear that doesn't fall into under the banner of "diaper" or "pull-up" or "slip" or "incontinence brief"  in two years. Also, the goddamn things have gone up notably in price. I recall buying 4-packs of them for maybe $20. Now, they are allegedly technically superior, sort of the next-gen fighter jets of private containment, but, they want $20 EACH for the damned things. Which particularly vexes me because I will be throwing them out at some point. I do not plan to have them in inventory after my travels, because, in an interesting inversion of my previous circumstances, now, my wife finding underwear lying around might cause me problems, whereas in the before-times, it was my diapers that I had to conceal like nuclear secrets.

Also, it's against my religion to have them on hand. I think part of my "success" with this strange project has been that, when I'm casting about for what to wear under there, the only options I have at hand are diapers. Just having the things stashed in the trunk of my car is slightly demoralizing. I think that if I had to go back to wearing just those, I'd sink into a dark depression, punctuated by trips to the washroom every 45 minutes or so. 

But, fear not, good friends, for my plan is NOT to wear just those. I plan to wear the oversized boxershorts over my undersized gym diapers, and, to cheat if I have to, and go pee in the potty if I find myself in a situation where changing is not an option or I'm running low on supplies, much as I did in Europe three years ago. Plus, I can swap trousers and such without having to always seek the confines of the restroom. I've paid a king's ransom to be able to check a full-sized bag on the trip, so, if I can confine myself to two diapers a day, I should be fine, in (untested) theory. One generous (but unfortunately cloth-backed) overnight diaper, to be hidden under truly gargantuan plaid pajama pants, and, ideally, worn into the next day, if possible, and one slim gym diaper per day, which will have to be used only for actual "accidents" or urgencies, and not as my primary means of relieving myself, alas. I've also packed Pampers because they extend the range of my gym diapers notably, without adding a lot of bulk or noise to the equation. 

My theory is that when I get back, I might have a bit more range than I had when I left, but, that doesn't carry much psychological weight with me, because incontinence was never my target; I just want to always be in a diaper, because I'm happier that way. 

[Stroller]

Good luck with your trip!  I'm beyond being able to risk going nappy-less now myself.

[oznl]

At once interesting and disturbing that your diapers are rattling around in your wife’s subconscious to the point where they are reflected in dreams.

As for the UK trip, we both have learned that where there’s a will there’s a way.

If my experience is anything to go by, expect to find depressingly usable daytime continence but quite annoying frequency (every 90 minutes for me) and the possibility of very minor post-void dripping.

Nights for me would be the main wildcard.  My experience is that my new habit of bedwetting is unpredictable and no respecter of location or ceremony.  I’d be looking for a solid, reusable nappy so that if I stayed dry, it could go another round.  If it were me, I'd also have the insurance policy of a waterproof pant over it but I realise that's ultra-tough in a shared room.

The other wildcard of course is too much alcohol.  I can well remember staggering around a hotel room in front of my beloved wearing only a t-shirt and a nappy because I’d “lost” my pyjama pants (they were on the floor beside me).  Excess alcohol (and we all know that's going to happen) and discretion are rarely found in the same room.

[Little Sherri]

Well, I'm back, folks, and I made it through. I had some new experiences and I learned some things, related to the topic at hand. I also drank a monumental amount of beer, primarily because, first of all, they do pubs well in the UK, and, second, they mostly drink light beers over there, but remarkably flavourful ones - American beer manufacturers, take note. Light beers don't have to taste like water. 

What the 4% - 5% bitters and ales and IPA's lacked in potency, they made up for in excellence, and we had whiskey to accompany them with, if we were feeling malnourished. 

I passed through my first body scanner while wearing a diaper on this trip. Readers may recall that circumstance had conspired to allow me to travel several times, while diapered, without having to go through one. Either the airport wasn't using them at that time for for my flight, or, I got waived through the metal detector instead, just by sheer luck. I knew my streak was going to end at some point, and it did, on my first flight of the trip,  and, while standing in line with my friends. Perfect. I was wearing a NorthShore AirSupreme, which I felt was quiet and slim enough not to be noticeable under my clothes, but that would stand up to a 7-hour flight. However, I knew that if a piece of tissue in my pocket could set off the scanner, a pound of stuffing and polymer wrapped around my nether regions was not going to go unnoticed. 

I was hoping to get diverted through the metal detector again, because they were doing that with some people, but my number, it sees, was up. I was directed into the scanner right after one of my buddies, and, with another one waiting to go through afterwards, I swallowed hard, and tried to remember what many of you have told me - "It's not a big deal."

I walked into it and assumed the position. There was a woman in her 30's running it. The thing swung around me, and then she said I could step out. She studied the screen. She asked if I had anything in my pockets. I said "No." She asked me to pull up my pants and go back in (my belt, of course, was on its way through the x-ray machine on a tray). I did as I was told. She asked me to step out again, then she called over an older, male employee, showed him the screen, and said "What do you want me to do with this?"

The older guy looked at the screen, looked at me, and then told me to go back and come through the metal detector. I did that, I passed, and then he said "You're good to go."

My friends didn't seem to make any note of the proceedings. I ended up passing through a different sort of body scanner on the way back, the one with two walls, instead of the booth with the rotating arm, and that time, they didn't say anything, they just said waived me on. Maybe British TSA officers have more experience with people in nappies than Canadian ones do with people in diapers. 

I packed Rearz InControl Active Air's for overnight duty, reasoning that they were quiet, trustworthy, and relatively slim. I didn't think I was going to get away with wearing a Mermaid Tale under my pajamas, in close quarters with friends. And if worst came to worst, and they got seen, at least they're white, I reasoned, so I'd be removing colourful characters from the list of things I now have to explain. Two other guys also ended up checking bags, so, my suitcase was not going to be a point of conversation. Early on, everyone else had resolved to try and backpack through the trip, which would have left me as the guy waiting for, and pulling, the giant checked bag. 

I confirmed on night two that I am definitely a bedwetter, if there was any doubt remaining. We drank until the wee hours (pun there), and then retired. There were no formal arrangements about who slept where, but I ended up bunking with the same guy for all but one night of the trip, which worked out okay. His habit was to go into the washroom and get changed, which certainly worked for me, and, he liked to pack up and head to the lobby in a speedy fashion, which afforded me a few minutes to bag and stuff my overnight diaper into the trash can, and, leave a tip. 

During the day, I wore Depends pull-ups for men, reasoning that if they ever peeked out from below my shirt, they would look like dark grey underwear at a quick glance. I decided not to wear onesies, as is my usual practice, because I knew that the pull-ups would need to be swapped roughly every 90 minutes, if I used them in the usual manner, so, I would need to be making pit-stops in public places, and I didn't want to have to dig into my pants to unsnap snaps, or queue for stalls in busy and diminutive British toilets. I reinforced the Depends with Pampers Swaddler's in size 7, perforated in advance, like a tea bag, with an awl, in my garage 7000 kilometers away. 

The combination had the added advantage of being relatively compact and unrecognizable, folded up in a trash can. 

Much as @oznl alluded to, I discovered that I still have about 90 minutes of increasingly uncomfortable cruising range, in terms of waking continence. I made a lot of trips to the potty, and there was never a day that my diaper-in-a-pull-up retired at 0% humidity. Many times I found myself in situations where I might be facing having to go longer than my maximum cruising range before I saw the next toilet, and so I let myself go at a point before I was getting into biblical flood territory, because the equipment I was wearing was unrated for that kind of use. Although it still amazes me what Pampers will take; they were easily the more capable of the two, although rated for 41 lbs + vs, what, 200 lbs+?

I only experienced one minor press-out leak over the entire trip. Overnight was a greater concern for me than during the day, but, knowing that I was wearing medium-duty diapers, I tried to make sure I went to the potty before bed, and I didn't drink gratuitous quantities of water, reasoning that gratuitous quantities of beer were more than enough ammunition to sink my ship as it was. 

I'll muse more on this later, as I have to go, but, overall, the mission was a success. 

[BabyJilly_S]

Glad to hear you had a good time over here and on successful execution of the mission   

The weather may not be up to much but we do know how to make a good beer....

[Vulpix77]

Welcome back! Good to hear the trip went well, I was looking forward to reading your updates about it ?

[oznl]

Congratulations on running that gauntlet. 

I had a few “near misses” with my 90 minute cycle which were a result of forgetfulness and reverting to form rather than loss of control.  I got the distinct feeling that at some point, my capacity to keep myself out of the metaphorical ditch here might waver with distraction.

I expect the room-share thing would have been quite challenging.  In my “before” days,  I’d simply resolved myself to decline any further business travel that involved shared rooms.  This was due in part to my nappies but also in no small part that I was sick at having ANY shot at “downtime” away from my colleagues trampled for penny pinching.

As it happens, history overtook my plans for a great Mexican stand-off on this topic. My idea of corporate travel these days involves taking a company vehicle out of the vehicle pool.

The body scanner thing actually makes me a bit angry.  It is a technology that authorities (at least in my jurisdiction) seem perfectly happy to allow to inevitably and dramatically trample over the personal privacy and dignity of people who are simply not the ‘droids they are looking for.  People with genuine disabilities that they’d much rather keep private are being routinely hauled out for examination and nobody seems to care.

Good job on stopping the bedwetting-bullet.  This would be my principle concern as I’ve come to realise that I’m quite capable of unwittingly wetting a hotel bed and therefore must take ample precautions.  I’d worry that a light-weight product of its own may well not withstand the load I might unconsciously put upon it.

[Stroller]

9 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

 I also drank a monumental amount of beer, primarily because, first of all, they do pubs well in the UK, and, second, they mostly drink light beers over there, but remarkably flavourful ones - American beer manufacturers, take note. Light beers don't have to taste like water. 

I'm not drinking this month - it's sober October.  But next Tuesday will see me and Binky heading for the pub for lunch, each with a tongue hanging out.  And yesterday I ordered the Xmas wine, which should arrive tomorrow.  Happy days.  Glad you had a good trip over here - I don't think I spotted you anywhere...

[Little Sherri]

How is it possible to go away for one week, and return to three weeks worth of work? Anyway, I managed to free up a few minutes. 

To pick up where I left off, the one night bunked with another of my buddies, I discovered that he's the type who drops his drawers without remorse, training undoubtedly related to his background as a lifelong hockey player. I've noted similar tendencies in the police officers who attend my martial arts club; like hockey players, they're used to changing in rooms full of dudes all the time, so they will engage in conversations with you while stark naked, with nary a qualm. I am not wired like that.

So, while he changed his clothes in the middle of the room, for obvious reasons, I had to discretely bundle my next diaper up in my pajamas under the guise of reorganizing my suitcase, and then slink off to the bathroom, peel off my wet GoodNites XXL Man Edition, and then inter them in the trash can under wads of tissue. Thankfully, all but one of the hotel rooms we stayed in had trash cans with lids on them in the bathroom. 

I threw three pairs of boxer shorts in my suitcase before I left. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I'm not sure why I did that. Security, I guess? I don't know what I was planning to do with them. I think it harkens back to my childhood - on the fairly uncommon occasions where I was asked to wear a diaper while away from the house, I used to pull underwear on over them, even though the diaper stood taller at the back than my tighty whities did, so they offered no camouflage at that primary weakness in childhood diaper security - waistband reveals - and layering underwear over Pampers only added visual bulk. But, out and about, somehow, I felt better having underwear on, although at home, I never wore underwear over a diaper, as far as I can recall - it just felt hot, and in any case, everyone around me knew I wore diapers, so it would have been pointless. 

I felt like a failure while buying the underwear, like I was abandoning my course, but the fact that I didn't resort to them even once, somewhat restores my self-image in my own eyes, I guess. I've already bagged them and thrown them in the garage. I intend to toss them, only because no charities take underwear donations, even for unworn garments. Losing the $40 or whatever they cost me is small potatoes compared with violating one of the edicts of my self-imposed "religion". I intend, if I can manage it, to only wear diapers, from now, until such time as I have no say in it because someone else is dressing me, be they a funeral director or a PSW at a nursing home or whatever. And I think the PSW would prefer I be in diapers by that point! 

It's also kind of funny that now, I order cases of gloriously printed diapers with impunity, and my wife hauls them in from the porch if I happen not to be around when they arrive, but, meanwhile, I'm treating the purchase of underwear as though I'm hiding an affair of some sort. I don't want her to find them or know that they exist, just in case it gives her an idea that whatever "this" is, might be subject to appeal. 

[Little Sherri]

Well, I'm vexed. I just typed a whole entry, more or less, and then it disappeared. Sigh. 

So, here I go again. I had another diaper dream last night. In this one, I was driving an Oldsmobile that belonged to my mother when I was a kid, and that was briefly mine, in my later teens. However, in the dream, I was my current age, as far as I can discern. 

I was picking my way across a busy car park - it was the kind of scene that you'd expect in the surrounds of a large event, as the event was winding down. There were cars and busses and trailers parked helter-skelter, and I was looking for a spot in a particular area, in order to pick someone up. Who that was, I don't know. 

I chose a spot and parked, and then someone came up to my window and started talking over his shoulder while pointing at me, so I rolled down the window and asked what was going on. The person said that I had hit his trailer while I was driving across the lot, and hadn't stopped. In the dream, I knew with 100% certainty that I had NOT done this, and all I had to do was get out of the car and show him that there were no marks on it. 

Except that I was wearing some kind of sweatshirt... and a big white plastic diaper, and nothing else. I explained to the guy that I was picking someone up, had just gotten out of bed, and hadn't expected to leave the confines of the car, then, I opened the door and stepped out. I walked him around the grey Olds and said "Look, no damage." He then pointed to a small scratch on a fender, and said "That's where you hit it." I said the scratch had been there for years, he's mistaken. 

Meanwhile, scores of people streamed by, men, women and children, and many of them turned their heads. I wasn't sure if it was because of the scene the guy was creating, or if it was because of the strange man in the diaper. Then, the guy invited me to go look at his trailer, so I followed him over to it, which involved crossing a few aisles and walking past a lot of cars, trucks and people. He led me to a trailer that had a corner of it pretty much obliterated - it looked like what would happen if you dropped a trailer onto pavement from 50 feet up. I pointed out the absurdity of his claim that the little scratch on my car was evidence that I had blown his trailer apart. He said "Well, that's for the police to sort out." At that point, I became deeply aware, and regretful, that I had not at least brought along, if not actually worn, pants for the journey. Then I woke up. 

These dreams are intriguing, because I never really ever go anywhere, ever, in just a diaper, other than maybe from our bedroom to the kitchen in the middle of the night. I once took the garbage out wearing only a shirt and a diaper, at 2 AM, but I live a bit into the country, and the odds of running into anyone other than a racoon were pretty slim. I've sat on my pool deck a couple of times in a diaper, but that area is a black hole if the lights are off. I've never gone and driven anywhere dressed that way, for certain. But in my dreams, I often find myself in my car, thusly clad. Strange. 

In other news, I once again experienced the Universe having a bit of a laugh at my expense, while in front of the TV, another tap on the shoulder, if you will. My wife was watching some medical-themed sitcom on one of the streaming services, and in the episode, one character was dressing down the other for their privileged upbringing, saying "Unlike you, I didn't grow up with a nanny changing my Vera Wang diapers." 

As is usually the case at 11 PM or so, I was, of course, sitting up in bed in a diaper and a shirt. My wife turned to me and said "Are any of your fancy diapers by Vera Wang?", then went back to her knitting. 

[WBxx]

I also have the clad in nothing but a diaper down below in public dreams.  Rather than strangers, mine are always with colleagues or friends. They don’t seem to notice.  Can’t figure it out, do they not see my babyish attire or are they just being polite.  That’s where it ends.

Moving on, after losing more than one entry I now do all composing in word processing software copying/pasting to final destination.  Works better for me.

Lastly, did I hear you correctly?  You wore Goodnites XL’s during your trip?  Ask because I’ve taken to wearing them during the day to cope with increasing OAB.  Plus, in the name of science I’ve verified they will easily handle a full bladder release.  And they’re invisible under my normal underwear.  Life is better in a KMB Goodnite!

[Little Sherri]

1 hour ago, WBxx said:

You wore Goodnites XL’s during your trip?

No, unfortunately, I can barely squeeze into those right now. The new XL's are better than the old L/XL size, but they're still really overstretched on my frame. Back before Covid, I could fit into them better. I always liked the look of them, and yes, they do more or less disappear under your clothing. I was joking around in calling what I wore "XL Men's Goodnites." They were actually the Depends pull-ups designed to look like men's underwear, and I put a Pampers size 7 in them, so that they were slim and had some capacity. I didn't use them exclusively, however - I resorted to pit stops in washrooms here and there, with the pull-up as backup, because there was no way I could bring enough of them with me on that trip to use them like I use my diapers at home. 

I forgot to mention pacifiers, by the way, in talking about my trip. I didn't even bring one with me; there was no way I could have used one while sharing a room. I was concerned that I might have trouble sleeping, because I've slept with one every night for close to 4 years, but I didn't have any difficulty passing out, probably due to the 5 - 10 beers we consumed every evening on average, although these were British, relatively light beers. But then there was the Scotch. Nobody mentioned if I was making clicking noises with my teeth, of the sort that drove my wife nuts before I discovered that a pacifier solves the problem. Those guys all snore or use CPAP machines so the cacophony drowned out whatever noises I was making, and they were all well anesthetized in any case.  

[oznl]

16 hours ago, WBxx said:

I also have the clad in nothing but a diaper down below in public dreams. 

Yep, this is a regular theme of anecdote that gets presented to me by my subconscious from time to time.

I could only speculate on what it means.  Dream interpretation is not my strong suit.

I'm not sure if the "weekend warriors" also experience this of it's the kind of thing that manifests only with our hard-core 24/7 lunacy or exactly what "this" is trying to say...

[Little Sherri]

5 hours ago, oznl said:

I'm not sure if the "weekend warriors" also experience this of it's the kind of thing that manifests only with our hard-core 24/7 lunacy or exactly what "this" is trying to say...

I don't recall ever having a diaper dream back when I was dabbling in being a DL, wearing them for a few hours when I got the house to myself or when I was away on business, or even when I started regularly wearing them to bed. The  "wearing only a diaper in public" dreams definitely started when I went 24/7, for me. Which I guess makes sense - up to that point, I didn't tend to wear (covered) diapers in public. I remember a few times at hotels and such, going down for breakfast with my jeans on over a pull-up, before losing the diaper and getting dressed for the days meetings, just to eke out a few more minutes in my "therapeutic" underpants; I would be driven to distraction by the thought that someone might notice something. Which is hilarious, in retrospect, now that I'd do the same thing without a second thought, while wearing a crinkly ABDL diaper. But that's how one's inhibitions evolve with practice. Or devolve. 

My wife got in another wisecrack last night. We were looking at vacation packages, because now that I'm back from my trip with my buddies, it's time to pay the piper... my beloved wants a trip. I also have a weekend trip coming up to see a good friend in the Southern US, so I don't have a leg to stand on, in proclaiming that the bleeding must stop. I basically just nodded and took my medicine. She was reviewing vacation packages to various points closer to the equator than we are, where water will still be a liquid in February, somewhat ironically, while watching a documentary on organized crime in Guatemala. Guatemala is off the list. 

She was sitting up in bed with her computer on her lap, and I was doing my winddown routine. I'd showered and put on a fresh diaper (a Megamax), and was brushing my teeth, when she asked me to come look at some photos of a place she'd found. I was standing next to her side of the bed, wearing just my diaper, and she looked up, then said, "I'm going to try booking you as a 23-month-old, diaper boy. It would cost considerably less." 

My cheeks immediately reddened, but, again, I basically had to take my medicine. Touché. 

On reflection, though, I am happy that, for this trip, I'm not casting about for an excuse to join them later, or depart early, or otherwise buy myself some time home alone, just to indulge in wearing diapers. It's no longer necessary. I'll have a diaper on for the entire trip, and I'll be able to relax and enjoy being with my family, while we get sunburned and overcharged. 

[Little Sherri]

The hits just keep coming on the spousal department, although admittedly, this was my fault. My wife had my daughter out at dance for most of the evening yesterday, and with the house to myself, I decided to get some work done. My wife wanted the pulls changed on our newly-installed kitchen cabinets, and changed over from a one-screw to a two-screw design. This meant drilling holes in new cabinets, not something I tend to undertake lightly. I'd had on a Megamax for most of the day that needed changing... but I also had a couple of me Prevail gym diapers that the wings had torn off of, and since I had the place to myself... the damaged Prevail went into the Megmax, and I got to work, looking like a Teletubby in a beer-themed t-shirt and a really, really puffy diaper. No need for trousers, I had the house to myself.

Fast-forward through a few hours of carful drilling and mindless dribbling, and I was installing the last of the pulls, when they came in through the side door of the house. I froze. It was almost a throwback to when I was wearing diapers in secret... I didn't know what to do. My wife has seen my in diapers of all descriptions countless times, of course, but, while my daughter knows I wear diapers, I don't generally prefer to appear in one in front of her if it can be avoided. I stood behind the island, thinking that I would invoke Fatherly Privilege to tell her, if she came into the kitchen, that I needed her to go away for a moment, as I would do if I were, say, wrapping a present for her, and she walked in. "You can't ask why, just do as I say." It sometimes works. 

But, as I had hoped would happen, she dashed right up to her room to make contact with her legions of followers on social media. My wife, however, did walk into the kitchen. She looked at the pulls I'd installed and began gushing about how fantastic it looked, and what a great job I'd done, and as she circled the island, I circled it as well, keeping it between her and I, and trying not to be obvious about it. It's not that I was wearing a diaper - she wouldn't be shocked by that. But I was self-conscious about how big and saggy the getup had become - it felt 6 inches wide between my thighs, and that it weighed as much as a Christmas turkey. 

However, she settled and put her stuff down at the end of the island that I would have to pass by, in order to leave the kitchen, so eventually, I just had to try to nonchalantly stroll past her. When I stepped out from behind the island, her eyes widened, and she said "Good job, you've earned a few minutes to go change that!", and she affixed me with an incredulous gaze as I more or less waddled by, feeling my cheeks redden. That's definitely the fullest diaper she's ever seen me in. "Diapers", actually, be she didn't know that, presumably. 

In other "News", I wanted to transplant this excerpt from another thread, because it relates to my history, some of which I have delved into previously herein. In the thread from which this is taken, I was talking briefly about my "origin story" as a DL, and I mentioned the kid (Little Sherri) who lived on my street who wore diapers, and how my fascination with her was the first time I had a realization that diapers might be a "thing" for me, although at that age, I had no idea what that meant. I just knew they were magnetic to me, and that that was not something one could just say openly. 

The question that drew the following response was, simply, "Why did she wear diapers?" 

This question has haunted me since childhood. I believe that the first inklings that I might be on the path to becoming a DL came to light during this very early time in my life. I knew her when I was maybe aged 4 - 7 or so, before they moved away somewhere. She was about the same age as me, and had a sister that was a year or two older.

At the time, I still wore diapers to bed, and I lived in constant fear that my younger brother or older sister would tell someone, and all my friends would find out - I imagined that would bring social ruination. I remember panicking when friends showed up at the door to play unexpectedly, on a rainy day, and my mom said, sure, come on in, and I made an excuse that I needed them to wait a second before going up to my room, because there was a box of diapers on the floor in my closet that I needed to cover. 

So, you would think that I would have avoided associating with the kid on our street who wore diapers, but, it was the opposite - our parents used to joke that we were dating. I was glued to her side when she was around, because I found her predicament both terrifying and fascinating. I didn't realize it at the time, but I think that part of me wanted to be like her, even then. There's a lot of background to this, much of it told to me by my mom years later, but, at one point, the girl - Sherri - was apparently leaving her apartment to go out to play, and then taking her diapers off, and stashing them in the lobby of the building, behind a radiator or in the mail room. This was a time (early 80's) when a lot of us were "free-range" parented - we were allowed to run around the neighbourhood at very young ages. One parent or another would be out there somewhere, but we had free reign a lot of the time. "Helicopter parenting" was not a thing yet. Anyway, the landlady yelled at her parents about this. I even have a vague recollection of the lady finding one behind a radiator, although that might be a "manufactured memory" based on something I'd been told. 

After that, her mom started sometimes sending her outside in just a diaper and a shirt, so that she couldn't take her diaper off, or else she'd have been naked. I remember riding bikes with her, and she had just a diaper on. Not tricycles, these were bicycles - we were not toddlers. I also remember playing "duck duck goose", a form of tag, with a bunch of kids, including her, and, we got in trouble for playing hide-and-seek in the underground parking area where kids were not supposed to go. I hid under a trailer with her, and we got dirty, and we were brushing dirt off of each other, and I brushed off the back of her diaper, which gave me a thrill at the time that was completely non-sexual - keep in mind that I was a little kid. 

Her mom also babysat my siblings and I, and I had fantasies of her putting me in a diaper at bedtime, but that never happened - we never stayed overnight. 

Decades later, I asked my mom why Sherri wore diapers, and my mom said that she didn't know. I asked if she was developmentally delayed or something, even though, by my recollection, she played the same games we did and seemed to keep up, and my mom said that she didn't think so. I asked her why Sherri was sometimes outside in just a diaper, and my mom told me the story about her stashing the diapers and her parents getting yelled at by the landlady or superintendent, but then my mom also said "She was a strange lady", in reference to Sherri's mom.

Her sister's name was Melonie. I have often wondered if I might ever run into either of them here - Melonie wore diapers to bed like I did, and was about two years older than Sherri and I. In theory, if they're wired anything like I am, their time in diapers as older kids might have predisposed them to this interest.

[Vulpix77]

Sounds like you should play around with big diapers more often ?

[Little Sherri]

I'm enjoying a Saturday morning at home; I was supposed to help a buddy with a job, but it got cancelled for lack of materials, so I'm going to do a few chores around the house that have been put off because I've been doing chores at other people's houses. One thing I want to do is reorganize my diaper stash again; there have been some good deals on at Rearz and I stocked up a bit, so I now have something approaching 10 cases of diapers in the basement, but some of them have been opened and bags extracted and distributed into two large totes I have for open diapers, and into my diaper drawer in our bedroom. If I can consolidate a couple of boxes, it might reduce the "spousal ire" factor a bit, if she eyeballs my "power wall" and realizes that, while we've been talking about my reducing my inventory a bit, I've been nodding, and then increasing it. 

Part of it, of course, is that I just like ordering diapers - I feel like a kid at Christmas when the UPS truck rolls up with a big brown box for me. But I also expect that, like everything else in the world, prices are poised to shoot up, so when diapers I like get put on sale for a good price, I tend to jump at it, because if I can wear a decent diaper for $2.50 CAD a unit, versus $3.50 CAD, and I wear two to three of them per day, the savings are real.

I also wanted to expand, while I'm here, on the general contentedness that I experience, on waking up on a Saturday morning in a wet diaper, knowing that it's not a question of "If" I will wear a diaper today, only a question of "which" diaper I will wear. It really is a weight off of my shoulders to know without question that I wear diapers, and will do so for the foreseeable future. In fact, I suspect that part of the reason I like having a bit of a diaper warehouse in the basement is that, in some ways, it's a bit of a guarantee that I'll stay on this course, because I have like 4 months + worth of diapers to get through...

[BabyJilly_S]

Same here, buying is fun and i do like having loads even to the point i will buy more when things come in stock as they don't so often. Megamax's seem hard to come by and even Betterdrys are out of stock at the moment.

Oh, and fear of running out is big....

[Little Sherri]

Pity the well-meaning people who volunteer to be on the company social committee. Back when people worked in the office at least some of the time, they had the joyless task of trying to muster "team spirit" and manufactured conviviality for "dress-down" Fridays and the ill-conceived prior-to-a-long-weekend Friday afternoon "virtual lunchroom social" where they mailed everyone packets of pretzels, and then demanded that they "hang out" online for an hour at the end of the day. Now that everyone pretty much works from home, their task is even more Sisyphean. Meanwhile, all of their immediate supervisors look askance at the time they spend on this. 

So I knew I was setting myself up for a possible punchline delivery this morning when I informed my wife that I needed a costume for the management meeting, because of course, I arguably sleep in a costume, albeit quite a functional one. So there I stood, in a big puffy diaper, pacifier still dangling from my shirt collar, asking her if she could dig up something absurd for me to wear on camera in the meeting. My wife, before she's had a cup of coffee, is a remarkably humourless person, so I though I might get an eyeroll or a deep sigh. Instead, I got a snappy "What's wrong with this?", as she flapped her hand in a circle to kind of visually encapsulate what was standing before her. "Go as a baby." 

Tempting though that suggestion was, I've instead dug up a clown wig. I think it might be a bit less likely to truncate my career. 

I had a thought yesterday as I snapped one of my onesies on, before going out to help a buddy fix a fence, which was this: as a kid, I'd have been mortified if my parents had bought me a snap-crotch "diaper shirt" to wear, but, in fact, it would have been the best thing for me, at least on the relatively rare occasions when I had to wear a diaper while away from the house, because practically all of my experiences with my diaper coming onto the radar at unexpected moments had to do with waistline reveals. Kids don't know what's good for them. All of which is to say that I plan to buy more onesies if Rearz puts them on sale for Black Friday, as they have been known to do. My onesies are an integral part of my "diapernaut" uniform. In them, I am largely fearless. Without them, I am forever tugging my shirt down and my pants up. 

[Little Sherri]

Well, I'm sitting here in a meeting in wet jeans, because I tried to be economical... I have some old, slim gym diapers from a discontinued Prevail line, that are a little snug on me and that were never great (hence, I suspect, the discontinuation), and I had to run out this morning for a quick vet appointment with the dog. I'd slept in a Rearz Inspire+ that I had on from more or less after dinner the day before, and the Inspire+ is a big diaper to begin with, and it only gets bigger with use, although they don't have the magnificent swelling capabilities of, say, a BetterDry.

Were I to have planned to waddle over to my office and work away the morning in just a diaper and a golf shirt, I probably wouldn't have changed it, because it still had some life left in it. But, I was going into the environs of a highly-paid professional, and I knew I'd be bending over and lifting (the dog), so I felt that a really big diaper might be noticeable under my no-longer-entirely-oversized jeans. As I was reaching around the back of my diaper drawer, my hand happened upon the aforementioned gym diaper, and I thought, "Why not?" It only needed to last a couple of hours. 

The answer to the question "Why not?" came in the form of a rivulet that streaked down the front of my right thigh as I got out of the car. Somehow, I leaked over the front of the diaper, on the right only... meanwhile, the back of it feels mostly dry. Sigh. 

I'd been kind of enjoying the feeling of being in this slightly-overstretched product, because it reminded me a bit of wearing diapers as a kid, in the later years of my "career". However, the leak over the front of this thing also reminded me of that time; as I got older, it started becoming important that I was pointed in the right direction down there - down and to the center was good, off to either side was not good, and pointing straight up was a worst-case scenario. However, when today's failure occurred, "mini-Me" wasn't pointed unconventionally, so the failure mode I experienced is mystifying, and apparently in defiance of gravity. 

At the vet's office, I hoped that my fuzzy, slobbery friend would provide cover for why I had a weird speckling of droplets evident on the front of the leg of my jeans. After the appointment, I bolted straight back home and up to my office, because I had a meeting. So, right now, I'm sitting in the meeting, unusually warry of continuing to use this diaper. I suppose that if my jeans get wetter, that doesn't change their fate - they are destined for the laundry, and this diaper is destined for the grave. But, on the off-chance that my spouse comes up here to print something, or, that I run into her on my way back over to our bedroom, I'm a little self-conscious about weathering that interaction in obviously-wet trousers. 

My wife has seen me in a saggy, off-coloured diaper many times, and on the odd occasion, I've had to strip the bed and wash the sheets, when a diaper couldn't keep up with what was asked of it, but, she really hasn't seen a lot of external evidence of what's going on inside my diapers, because I'm pretty conservative and don't flirt with leakage very often, unless I'm on home territory, and alone, in which case I might push a diaper closer to the edge. So strutting across the main floor of the house in soaked jeans would engender the same feelings in me that walking across the house in a diaper would have, a few years ago...  but, I'm getting uncomfortable now, unaccustomed as I am to having to hold it these days.

I do have a crash kit in the car... I suppose I could retrieve it, strip off my jeans and diaper, put on a new diaper, and then, when the meeting concludes, strut over to the bedroom dressed thusly. It would be a little uncommon for me to be walking around the house mid-day in just a diaper, but not unheard of. Walking across the driveway in just a diaper would be A LOT uncommon, during the day, but the odds of her running into me there are pretty slim... as are the odds of my running into anyone else, if I sprint over. And assuming that the side door isn't locked...

[Little Sherri]

The details of this, I will have to get into later, but, I've had the unenviable experience over the past 24 hours of accompanying an aging relative into the jaws of the healthcare system, at a time when things are very strained, first of all, because our provincial government really badly wants to demonstrate it's fiscal credentials via showing a budgetary surplus, even if hospitals are ceasing admissions because they're at 130% of capacity. Second, there's three respiratory viruses going around right now, one being Covid, which seems to be waning rather than winning, but that is still a factor, and, on top of that, there's the seasonal flu that reports from Australia indicate is going to be robust this year, and then there's RSV, which is putting kids in ER's in alarming numbers, if only temporarily. 

All of which left me to assist someone who would rather not have been assisted by me, to go to the bathroom. They were being pumped full of a giant bag of saline, with predictable results 30 to 60 minutes later, and at the end of visiting hours, it seemed awfully likely that she was going to end up helplessly yearning for another potty visit within the hour, and the nurses seemed to be making the rounds roughly every 3 hours. So I wanted to say "Could someone please put this poor individual in a decent diaper, so that she can get some sleep and retain some dignity?", but of course, people don't like to hear that kind of talk. 

I kind of felt like Superman, unable to shed his Clark Kent alter ego while watching a bus speed towards a cliff. I had the solution in my briefcase on the floor beside the bed, but I was prevented from intervening. 

[Little Sherri]

Also wanted to mention that in my adventures, I finally stumbled upon an adult-sized changing table in a public restroom. Having mastered the standing diaper change, I did not give it test drive, but, I was impressed that someone saw that there might be a need for such a piece of equipment. Although the trash bin in the same room was small and did not have a lid, so they have not yet covered all of their bases. 

[oznl]

10 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

The details of this, I will have to get into later, but, I've had the unenviable experience over the past 24 hours of accompanying an aging relative into the jaws of the healthcare system, at a time when things are very strained, first of all, because our provincial government really badly wants to demonstrate it's fiscal credentials via showing a budgetary surplus, even if hospitals are ceasing admissions because they're at 130% of capacity. Second, there's three respiratory viruses going around right now, one being Covid, which seems to be waning rather than winning, but that is still a factor, and, on top of that, there's the seasonal flu that reports from Australia indicate is going to be robust this year, and then there's RSV, which is putting kids in ER's in alarming numbers, if only temporarily.

Dysfunctional public health facilities seem to be the new normal here too right now.  The usual complaint is that it's cash starvation imposed by Government but I don't buy that.  Health expenditure is continuing to ramp up well in front of inflation so something else is going on.  From what little I can see, the public health sector here does have some blindingly expensive inefficiencies baked in but I'm not a fan of "for profit" healthcare either.

Here in Oz, it was by all reports a brutal flu this year, making up for a very quiet couple of years where the usual seasonal flu was kicked into the shade by COVID.   Flu is usually more of a problem in the cooler, southern states (where folk close the windows and gather around a heater) than in my balmier climate but it was up here at scale anyway this winter just gone (which was unusually cold and damp).  The good news is that the flu shot knocks the stuffing out of it.  You still get the flu but it’s more something to whine about than die of.

10 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

I kind of felt like Superman, unable to shed his Clark Kent alter ego while watching a bus speed towards a cliff. I had the solution in my briefcase on the floor beside the bed, but I was prevented from intervening. 

I see this all the time in my new work.  A few Barrys and BetterDry distributed amongst the disabled would rock some patient worlds.

[Little Sherri]

21 hours ago, oznl said:

A few Barrys and BetterDry distributed amongst the disabled would rock some patient worlds.

Sure enough, overnight they'd transferred her to a dementia ward, not because she has dementia, but because that's where they had a bed free... and, they had her in nappies, or, at least, the two nappies sitting on the table beside her suggested as much. She was taken out for an x-ray which afforded me a moment to look at them. They had no brand on them, I suspect because no company wanted to be affiliated with such a product. They were white, had yellow dashed wetness indicators, and were about as thick as a magazine when folded up, so  1/3 of that thickness when unfolded. Cloth-backed, they looked just abysmal. So of course, she was also seated on an absorbent pad, which I assume comes out of someone else's budget, so that the Director of Nappy Purchasing gets a hearty pat on the back again this year, for a job well done. 

And of course, they left two of them stacked on a table by the door for all the visitors to ponder.