An Old Problem 1-24

[Sarah Penguin]

[maly]

Wow That was intense, not what i expected. Thanks for the new chapter.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Thanks Sarah and Maly for you continued support ?

Final chapter will be posted in the next day or two.

[Les Lea]

Part 24

As I lay in bed that night, heavily padded as usual, I couldn’t get mum’s words out of my head. They circled and bounced around but I couldn’t get rid no matter how much I tried to let the sexy, silky smooth covering take my mind off them...  “You like the world you’ve created”.

I hadn’t known I’d created anything. I just went along with whatever was there. I didn’t complain, I didn’t argue, I didn’t confront... so how was I the creator of anything?

Thankfully, about 2.13 in the morning, after non-stop tossing and turning another thought did enter my head... Stefan and what that poor ten year-old had endured. My opinion of Mrs Symanski had changed as she’d told her story – I had sympathy for her grief, but couldn’t understand how anyone could treat a poor inconsolable boy the way she had.

However, last night mum had explained that shortly after he left home the court case eventually came to an end. Her husband was exonerated and, fearing bad press, the company decided to pay the families a vast amount to keep them silent, so Mrs Symanski became quite well off.

It was a shame that all those elements came together at the same time. In fact, within weeks of each other but of course by then it was too late. No money problems, her dead husband cleared of blame... those weights had been lifted to be replaced by the guilt of knowing she’d cruelly driven away her son.  

Even though her house was large and worth quite a sum she refused to leave because - as the guilt-ridden woman explained as we were sat by that village pond. “What if he returns and there’s no one to greet him?”

Twenty odd years she’d lived alone with just an occasional visits from her family and taking hardly any time away, just on the off-chance he would come home. The trip to her sister’s had been a rare outing so, unknown to the neighbours, that little old Polish lady living in the big house, was hoping all this time for her son’s return and forgiveness.   

As I thought about the bed-wetting ten year old I began to think how dreadful losing a parent would be, and then of course I started wondering if I lost a parent how I’d react. So, when I did finally drop off, off course that’s exactly what I dreamt about, losing mum and dad.

I was searching, searching, searching but couldn’t find either of them. In my head and heart I knew they were dead but I had no proof. I was calling out for them but I was younger, possibly about six or seven and I was alone, scared and...

I woke up whimpering, the bed clothes all awry and my nappy in a terrible condition. Whatever I’d done in it had been spread around as I’d tossed and turned in whatever insanity had driven this appalling nightmare.

The blue figures on the bedside clock said it was 3.12 so too early to get up but I was scared of going back to sleep. I didn’t want that dream to return.

#

Once my heart-rate slowed down and I’d assessed the amount of damage in my padding the need to clean myself up overtook any other thought... hopefully without disturbing anyone else in the process. Even though it was only a relatively short distance from my room to the bathroom, I tiptoed nervously but could feel the heavy mess I’d made with each furtive step.

There was a smell but I’m trying not to dwell on that particular essence... it was gross.

I inched down the plastic pants trying my best not to disturb the material in case the entire structure just gave way. I dreaded what I’d find once I’d unpinned the fabric and my fears were well and truly confirmed as it slopped disgustingly onto the floor of the shower.

Everything about the scene was disastrous and I couldn’t wait to get under the shower and clean myself up. I was under those warm jets for ages, using almost a bottle of shower gel to purge myself of all that was dirty. 

Eventually, having done what I could do to remove all traces of my stinky disaster, I returned huddled in a nice blue towel to my room. I knew that the sound of me showering may well have woken up the house but I didn’t expect what happened next.

Sat on my bed, amongst a pile of pre-folded nappies and assorted paraphernalia, was dad.

“Sorry dad, did I wake you?” I tried not to appear surprised.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry son... I know you’ve been through quite a lot recently and it’s having a detrimental effect.”

I looked at him as if I couldn’t believe he knew. Silly really, we’re a close family and, as far as I knew, there were few secrets between us.

“Your mum and I talk,” he said by way of explanation, “and she’s talked a lot about what you’re going through.”

Because my room was a great deal chillier than the bathroom I hugged the towel tightly around me as I ambled over and sat down next to him.

“We don’t often talk about these things but I want you to know that I do understand what you’re going through.” He rested his hand on my shoulder.

I found this simple act quite reassuring.

There was a slight pause before he continued. “It looks like you’ve already had a problematic night...?”

I nodded; sure he could smell what the ‘problem’ had been.

“... and I’m sure you’re pretty whacked right now but I wanted to try and put your mind at rest just in case it may help with where your head is... at the moment.”

I think I shivered because dad noticed a slight tremble.

#

“OK, first things first... I need to get you dressed and back in bed before you freeze to death... and then we’ll chat... just for a while... OK?”

Dad hadn’t changed my nappy for ages and I hadn’t expected him to this time but he removed my towel and indicated he wanted me to lie out.

Nervously I did as he said so, with no qualms or over-thinking, dad just got on with what needed to be done.

“Anthony,” he said as he rubbed in some anti-rash cream, “you’re eighteen, an adult, but still love your nappies.”

There was no accusation in his voice just a sort of understanding. He saw me squirm a little nervously and I wasn’t sure if I should protest or agree... or not. However, he indicated for me not to speak, just whispered a soft ‘Ssshhh’ and shook his head.

He efficiently rubbed the cream in then showered me in powder before gently massaging that into the area where my nappy fit.

He pulled up a large double gusset nappy that was pre-folded and also contained a soak pad for extra protection. He slipped the pins into his mouth as he needed both hands to pull the edges and corners together to make a tight fit.

“Thish takeths me back.” He comically said through clenched teeth before professionally pinning me in.

I smiled... I loved my dad.

The white rubber pants were next and once they were wriggled into place he produced something I hadn’t worn for ages... a pair of pyjamas. Normally it’s boxers and a t-shirt and has been for a few years now but these were the last pair mum bought – thick, soft, dark blue, fleecy cotton with white stars all over them. I was surprised when dad pulled them up that they still fit but had to agree they felt comfy.

In fact, the entire experience of dad looking after me had been perfect and even more so when he indicated I should snuggle down under the covers and he lay on top by my side.

#

“Your mother thinks you are a bit of a conundrum.”

“Dad, I’m sorry if...”

He held up his hand for me to remain quiet and listen.

“I know what you’re going to say and there’s nothing to apologise for. You are who you are Anthony, and though that sometime sounds like it’s an excuse, in your case... we don’t think so.”

I was so desperate to speak but dad was stroking my hair making me feel relaxed.

“You’ve always been a gentle soul and, when you announced you were leaving school and started looking for a job, we thought you’d be better off going to college and... well... experiencing that sort of life.”

He looked down at me with a smile.

“We didn’t think you’d manage to...”

“Cope?” I whispered.

“Yes, I suppose we thought you weren’t ready or tough enough to make your way at sixteen and expected that you’d follow our suggestion for further education... but guess what? We were wrong.” His face showed genuine pride. “Mrs Dewhurst has nothing but praise for you and the way you work with the team she’s pulled together... so thank you... for proving us wrong.”

We had a few moments of silence but dad never stopped stroking my hair.

“Do you like the feel of a wet nappy?” I looked up at him and shook my head ‘no’.

The fact is, I’ve never liked that but I’m grateful when I have to wear protection, it keeps it all contained. I’m relieved not to be embarrassed by wet pants so can go about my day to day (and night) business without the worry. I’m also happy when the wet spell is eventually over and I can get back into my briefs.

You’d possibly wonder why we hadn’t had this conversation a hundred times already but in truth, we hadn’t. Of course we chat all the time. Dad comments on the things I do and I know he’s proud of me... yet, this was a different, newer intimacy.

“Dad.”

“What son.”

“I like this.” I snuggled further under the covers and could feel the substantial padding gripping me tightly. “I like my family and I like me... and I think you’re right... I do like my nappies.”

“Well son, if that’s the main worry you’re going to give us... I think we’d count ourselves lucky... because we love you too.”

“Do you think it wrong...?”

“Over the past few days we’ve found that bonk on the head when a tot might be the key to why you wet, but we don’t know for sure. What we do know is that anxiety causes you problems and the solution to that problem is...”

“But the nappies... the nappies...?” I interjected.

“Son, nappies or no nappies... we don’t care what you wear as long as you’re happy. As far as I can remember, they’ve never caused you a moment’s distress, and, if I’m being honest... I think sometimes your childlike innocence and behaviour is a definite positive.”

I was looking up at him in earnest thinking he surely thinks I’m nothing but a big kid.

“Do you think it’s all too babyish?” I wondered.

“When you need them.... you need them... no matter what for, but, let’s not get bogged down in all this, you wear a nappy because you wet. When you don’t wet you wear your briefs or whatever. The nappies are for security and, if you like doing so, so much the better, it means you don’t feel trapped or that you’re being punished and forced to wear them. As I see it, that’s a good thing.”

“Thanks dad.” I smiled and yawned somewhat relieved. “Do you think I could get some sleep now?” I added cheekily.

“Goodnight son.” He said with a final stroke of my hair and a gentle kiss on my forehead.

As I slipped into a deep sleep the last thing I could her was a gentle hiss.

Not me on this occasion... just dad making full use of the air freshener.

#

It was almost ten in the morning when I eventually woke up. Dad had told everyone I’d had a rough night and to leave me to sleep it off, so when I did wake up I felt quite refreshed.

Two things I noticed right away – my protection was dry but the weather seemed the complete opposite of the day before... it was throwing it down. I lay there listening to the rain beat against the window but enjoying the warmth and luxury of my bedding rather than being eager to get up and change out of a soaked nappy.

Last night dad’s words and actions had quite an effect... they soothed both my mind and body. Even as I revelled in the comfort and security he’d provided I thought how lucky I was to have parents... and sister who were there for me. 

After I’d yawned and stretched and eventually got a handle on the day I began to think what an amazing time these last few weeks have been. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried (quite a lot actually) and things have happened which I can’t explain but it’s been a journey (Oh hell, sorry, that sounds like the back story for a contestant on the X Factor) that has made me realise quite a bit about myself.

I began to question whether things happen for a reason or is it all haphazard? Is everything pre-ordained or is chaos the main director for life? I think you’ll agree these are very grown-up thoughts and not those of a toddler but then my mind wandered and, for no reason, I began to think where I might have put my old teddy bear. At that moment, and with those deep thoughts pushed to the back of my mind I just knew I was so comfy and felt so good, I just didn’t want to get up.

However, Sunday morning or not, and even though I had absolutely nothing planned, it was time to face the day. Pulling back the covers I felt a brief chill but not like usual... I’d forgotten just how sensible pyjamas were for keeping legs nice and warm and thick nappy in place. Actually, the pyjama bottoms didn’t keep stuff in place they just made it cosy; the rubber pants did most of the work.

I slipped out of bed and looked out the window, the rain was still falling, a hefty breeze had blown up and there were few people out on the streets. In the distance I could still make out the tree stumps so stood for a moment thinking how that damn tree had started all of this.

Actually, it hadn’t started all this as I so incorrectly put it... it had only been part of what had happened... a sort of catalyst. It may well have caused a dramatic change in the way my body reacted but by doing so it also brought so much more to the surface as to why I still had my old problem.

However, as I looked out, not a tingle or spurt or anything affected my body. I pushed my hand down the front of my protection to confirm this new fact... yep... still dry. I looked over at the clock and was grateful no huge passage of time had mysteriously disappeared.

I moved over and stood in front of the mirror to inspect myself. The pyjamas bulged out where you’d expect but all in all I wasn’t upset by my reflection. If I looked in any way different I think it was because I felt carefree. I’m not sure what changed, perhaps dad’s chat, mum’s understanding or Mrs Symanski’s revelation, maybe it was a combination of all those things. All I was certain of was that something (yes that something) in the millions of manic neurons flashing around my head had decided that a period of calm was now on offer.

I’m very sorry that I can’t explain something... it’s a feeling, a shiver, a tingle, a heartbeat, a smile, I... well... I don’t know what... but something felt different and it was a real.

#

I wandered down to the kitchen but the others had already eaten. They were sat in the front room reading; Jen on her phone, mum marking the TV guide and dad tutting at something political in the paper. I said a cursory ‘morning’ to them all and went to find something to eat.

Whilst I sat there sipping a refreshingly cold orange juice, and downing toast piled high with marmalade, I let out a huge sigh. I felt very, very content. I mean, I knew there were obviously many more things that needed explaining so that would mean more sessions with Doctor Ames. She’d have to delve deeper to see why the weather played a part in my troubles. She now knows there’s a physical reason for my ‘problem’ but still thinks that most of it is psychosomatic... that means we’re not done yet.

I absent-mindedly tapped my head as if all the secrets were safely stored in their just waiting for release.

Maybe even Doctor Mandip would need to check that my neural network is operating efficiently. Can a new pathway be subverted or diverted or even ‘perverted’? I knew there may well be further wet mornings (and perhaps days) but also knew I had my family... and that was important. After Mrs Symanski’s disclosure I realised just how important families are and how special mine is... I’m so lucky.

As I wriggled around on my chair enjoying the last few tasty orangey bites of toast I thought about Mrs Dewhurst and the team and again how fortunate I was to be part of all that. In the office I was an equal whether wearing a nappy or not. It would seem that my being in a nappy was not the end of my career. It might make me feel like a big kid at times (being changed by them all) but it didn’t stop me functioning as an adult so...?

Yes, that had been something... except a something that was tangible - the definite realisation that I actually liked things as they were. It should have been obvious, and it may well have been to others, but it had taken me this long, combined with everything that has happened recently, to be aware of that simple fact.

They’ve never bothered me because (trumpet fanfare) - I like to wear nappies.

I looked back across into the living room where everyone was simply getting on with their lives. I imagined that this, and many other scenes of folk just getting on with it, would be played out in homes all around the world. One way or another, all we could expect was to live our lives the best we can.

#

In future, when I get anxious, I’m going to try and interfere with my brain pattern with other thoughts and diversions. I’ll give it a go at least. I’ll let Doctor Laura probe and prod my subconscious and find anything else that’s hidden in there. However, now we know about the bash to the head, I think that particular line of neurons has cultivated a playful, childish and amenable course that I’m in no rush to give up.

I looked down at my cosy pyjamas and noticed a large blob of marmalade had dripped from the toast and landed on the jacket right in the middle of one of the white stars. I scooped it up and relished a final orangey experience and those neurons sparked again.

This time it was a flashback to when I was a kid and had to wear a bib whilst I ate a freshly peeled orange mum had given me. I saw it all vividly but wondered why this moment to remember it. The juice dribbled everywhere but it was obvious I’d found something I loved. Apparently, from then on, according to mum, whenever we passed oranges either on display in a grocer’s shop window, or in a bowl of fruit, I’d try to reach for one.

I started giggling to myself. What if, at the end of these last few months of madness, weird dreams and wet nappies this is what it came down to... a repeat of my childhood: A contented eighteen year-old just reliving his happy childhood but in his own special way?

Now wouldn’t that be something?

The old problem had never been old, it had been with me all of my life and was with me still.

So that means, because my head likes playing little tricks and I’m confused at times, I actually didn’t mind this.

I stroked the front of my soft but impressive bulge in my starry pyjamas and smiled... I could feel it getting warm... and I was content... and that was something too.

# # # # # #

The End

[Mugi]

Great ending to a great story!  ?
It's nice to see Anthony accept himself and his odd quirk ?

[Pierry Louys]

Great ending ! Maybe you can make a side story showing what happened with stefan 

[Sarah Penguin]

[maly]

As always a really enjoyable and well written story. Thank you.

Maly.

[Les Lea]

Many thanks to those who stayed with me on Anthony's old problem and I'm really pleased you liked the ending.

I wasn't sure how many people would enjoy the ride so it's heartening to know I wasn't just indulging myself (which I might have been because I really got into the character and thought I'd finished around chapter 10 but got 'inspired' to add a little more, and then a little more.) ?

Anyway... thanks.

Pierry - I have no plans to follow Stefan's alternative story but it is a great idea.

 

 

[Pierry Louys]

Thanks I hope someday you can change your mind rsrsr 

[Les Lea]

I've just made an amendment to Part 6 regarding Mrs Symanski’s children... just in case anyone noticed the mistake. If you had but were just too polite to mention it... thanks for being so thoughtful.

 

[Mj500]

Will there ever be a side story/plot/update between Anthony and Peter?

[Les Lea]

Hi Mj500

Sorry but I hadn't planned on a side story of Anthony and his best mate Peter. I can see that them being so accepting of each other would be appealing but I'm afraid I haven't been able to think up a suitable situation for anything to happen.

Sorry again but I'm glad the story and the possibilities interested you.?

All the best

Les

[sweetlilone]

Great story! Thank you!

[Les Lea]

Glad you found and enjoyed one of my old stories. Hope you find one or two more as appealing.

Thanks for the comment it is really appreciated. ?