Three of Mommy’s friends had come over and all of them were talking to Jesse like he was almost big. Aside from the slight bulk of his training pants under his jeans, Jesse felt like this was a normal, grown-up party. Well, aside from the training pants and the fact that he was starting to really need to go to the bathroom…
Vanessa was talking. Jesse shifted his weight from one side to the other, leaning forward with his forearms resting on the counter, trying not to draw attention to himself. Now Jenna was talking. There wasn’t going to be a natural break in the conversation, was there? Would it be weird if he suddenly excused himself to go potty and left the kitchen? Would that be rude?
Now Jenna had turned to talk to him. Focus.
“What did you say?” he asked blankly. “I’m sorry. I spaced out for a second.”
“I just asked you how school was going. I remember you said last time that you were having trouble finding time to talk to one of your professors about a big project. What was that again?”
Oh no. A topic he kind of needed to concentrate on in order to answer. “Um, um, it was this research paper I had to do that he had done some relevant work on…it was about…” he felt a little jolt in his bladder and had to bite his lip. “It was about…oh no.” A little bit of pee was soaking his training pants. It’s fine; it’s just a little bit. He bit down harder on his lip.
“Are you okay?” asked Jenna, looking puzzled.
“Ummm…” He was still bracing himself on the counter. There was definitely more pee coming out.
“Did you go pee? It’s okay; you can tell us.”
He stared at Vanessa, feeling a blush creep up from his neck and over his face. He really wanted to shake his head but felt frozen. His pants were definitely wet now. Hopefully his training pants had caught the worst of it, but he could tell that he’d leaked on his thighs.
“Does that mean he did go?” asked Penny. It was only her second time over at Jesse and Mommy’s house, and the last time he had mostly been studying in his room. Partially because he’d been diapered and didn’t really want Penny to see.
“Uh, yeah. This happens a lot. It’s usually pretty easy to tell.”
“Not a lot, a lot…” muttered Jesse, looking down at his hands on the countertop.
“Almost every time I see him. When he goes red like that it means he’s had an accident,” Vanessa explained to Penny.
“Do you want your mom?” asked Jenna, patting Jesse’s arm. He nodded. “Okay, let’s go find her.”
Even though they already knew, Jesse still tugged at his sweater as they went to find Simone. He was scared to look down at his crotch and check the damage.
Simone was setting up snacks on the table in the living room. “Oh, hi everybody. I’m almost done with this and then we play the game Jenna brought…” Her eyes fell on Jesse. “Is everybody okay?”
“Jesse has something to tell you,” said Vanessa, resting a hand on his back.
“Umm…I kinda went potty on myself a little bit,” Jesse whispered.
“Ohh, okay, honey. Let’s go to the bathroom. Vanessa, can you grab me a spoon from the kitchen? I totally forgot we’d need one for this salsa.”
Simone took Jesse’s hand and Jenna and Penny watched as she took him to the bathroom. Oh no…she wasn’t going to close the door.
“I’m sorry. I tried really hard to hold it but I was so nervous…”
“It’s okay, baby. You lasted a really long time. I wasn’t sure if you could do training pants today but you made it almost until five o’clock!”
That shouldn’t be an accomplishment at 25. Jesse raked his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, Mommy…”
“It’s okay,” she repeated. “We just need to rinse off and put you in a pull-up and new pants.”
“Are they going to see my pull-up?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know. It’s not anything Jenna and Vanessa haven’t seen before, and nothing Penny won’t get used to.”
“Noo…” Jesse covered his face all the way.
“Help me out and step out of your pants. Okay, training pants too.”
Simone turned on the shower. “You can just rinse off your bottom half, okay? Mommy will be right back with your pull-up.” She could maybe keep her voice down a little bit…but it wasn’t a good idea to say “inside voice please!” to Mommy, even though she said it to him all the time.
He did his best to rinse off, eyes on the open door. He could hear everybody talking in the living room. And Mommy was probably going to get his pull-up from the stash in the basket near the bookshelf right next to the living room table…so embarrassing! And he’d almost, almost gotten to be big in front of Jenna and Vanessa and make a good impression on Penny.
He was drying off when Simone came back in.
“Here’s your pull-up,” she said, setting it on the counter. “And new jeans.”
It was one of the babyish-looking pull-ups with a cartoon on the front.
“Um, do I need to wear that one?” he asked as Simone held it out. “I thought we still had some of the plainer ones.”
“Nope, you wore the last one last night. It’s fine!! Nobody’s going to see the design, okay, sweetheart?”
Jesse stepped into the pull-up resolutely and let Mommy pull it up and adjust it around his hips. She helped him put on his jeans and they walked back out to the living room.
On the way back to the table, Jesse did some thinking and decided that he was just going to pretend like nothing happened and that he was still super big.
i feel so grateful that everyone has been so nice about my stories :) if you've ever left a nice comment or gone thru liking everything or even just reblogged silently i really appreciate you. i honestly thought this would just be a spot for me to post my stories to archive them for myself and maybe one or two people would also like them.
watching someone wriggle and squirm as they try to hide that they need to wee
watching their eyes get big and their breath catch as they start leaking
asking if they need the bathroom and pointing out the wet patch between their legs when they frantically shake their head
gently reassuring them its ok if they cant quite hold it, that it looks like they've wet themselves a little bit but that its ok because you can take them to the bathroom
leading them to the bathroom as the wet patch gets bigger and bigger with every step
bringing them back dry clothes and gently coaxing them to open the bathroom door as they sniffle
giving them a huge hug and promising to keep it a secret
tucking them under your arm to watch a movie and cuddling them against you as they bury their head into your shoulder
slowly coaxing them back to normal as you reassure them that it's all ok and you're not going to make fun of them and nothing needs to change because you dont judge for accidents
Interviewing for a job that seems really normal, if at a higher salary than you would normally expect for your skills and education. They seem really happy with you, and you get the happy phone call that you've got the job!
long story, so, readmore:
You show up in your best business casual fit. You spent FAR too long picking it in front of the mirror. Getting a job is hard, right now. You'd been searching for several months, and it had gotten really urgent when the entire corporation that owned the store you worked at went under. You lucked out hard with this one, and you don't want to waste your opportunity. You adjust your hair, nervously, before taking a deep breath and walking into the lobby, a crisp and corporate space tiled in marble white and accented in deep, rich green. The lobby features square columns with water running down their sides and into barely-visible grates on the floor, creating a pleasant background trickling noise throughout the room.
The woman at the reception desk in the center of the room sees you and grins, and greets you by name. "Hi, sweetheart," She says, which is a little overly familiar, but you're having trouble minding, because she's of the exact sort of demeanor you suppose would call ANYONE "sweetheart." She's an older woman, and has a smiling, soft face, wreathed with brushed out curls, and she smells nice as she leads you onto a large elevator with an upholstered bench, up three floors, around a few corners, and back to an office. She introduces herself as Sharon on the way, and questions you politely about your weekend.
"Now, sweetheart, everything's just about finalized, we just need you to sign the final papers," she instructs, walking over to a filing cabinet. She pulls out a manilla envelope from one of the drawers, and hands you several sheets of paper to sign.
Most of it is pretty normal, the standard tax forms and benefits elections. The benefits here are really nice. But then you get to the page marked, "Finalized Offer Letter and Salary Confirmation."
There is an extra zero added to the yearly pay amount. You stare up at Sharon. "Is... is this correct?" You ask, blinking and looking back down at the paper. "This is, it's..."
The receptionist looks down at it. She doesn't seem startled or surprised. "Yes, dear, that's correct. Is that not what we put on the listing? Oh, Robbie in the hiring department must have made a little goof. Yes, that's all correct."
You sign the offer letter then and there, not bothering to read the rest of it. This is... honestly more money than you ever thought you'd make. This is a dream come true! Your heart is racing.
Sharon seems amused by your giddiness, which you thought you were doing a good job of keeping off your face. Evidently not good enough. "Come along, then," she says, standing and beckoning for you to follow.
She leads you to a... locker room. Not exactly where you thought you'd be heading? She hands you a tie dye rainbow t-shirt with a daisy on the pocket. "Since you'll be in the Daisy Room," she explains, like that explains anything. "The tie dye is the theme for today."
Apparently this workplace is big on themes. Huh. It seems a little odd to exchange your nice top for the t-shirt, but... you don't want to stand out on the first day. So you change your shirt (shouldn't it be illegal for Sharon to be in the room while you do that? you expected her to leave the room, but she just kept standing there expectantly) and follow her out of the locker room.
You re-enter the elevator. Instead of going upstairs, where you had your initial round of interviews, she enters a code into a keypad, and the elevator descends downwards.
The hallway it opens up into is... different. The shade of green here is brighter and paler, with a cheerful yellow to accent it instead of the stark corporate white upstairs. The wall on your left facing has a series of glass walls and doors looking into a variety of bright and colorful rooms, while the wall on your right has what look to be a series of gender neutral bathrooms.
Maybe it's a daycare for the employees' kids? You don't remember that being in the benefits package. And then, Sharon leads you past one of the rooms, one with a dandelion on the door, and you peer in, curious, before recoiling, face red.
There are a lot of adults in diapers and onesies in there.
From the brief glimpse you got, it looked just like a daycare, but with everything absurdly sized up. The adults toddle around, one woman playing with blocks, a grown man chewing absentmindedly on the tail of a stuffed cat as another man, this one in an apron with that same dandelion logo, shows him flashcards with animal pictures. Sharon leads you on, and stunned and speechless as you are, you follow.
"You'll be in here, sweetheart," she says, gesturing to another door. "See your shirt? That designates you as a Daisy!"
Your jaw goes slack with astonishment. In the room, which has a daisy on the door, people are wearing similar tie-dye t shirts to yours, and... well, they're mostly not in diapers, but they're doing toddler activities. The room is littered with toys, sippy cups, books, and even what look like training potties, all in adult sizes. One person holds the hand of a person in a daisy apron as they wals her to one of the potties, and you look away, covering your eyes as she pulls her pants down and sits on the potty in plain view.
Sharon scans an ID at the door, and opens it for you to enter, quickly filling out a sheet at the small front desk near the door. "Here you are. I'll introduce you to the caregivers for the room, and then-"
You finally find your voice. "I... I think there's been some mistake." You say. "I didn't sign up for this. This was supposed to be an office job?"
You can't stop your voice from going up at the end of the sentence as you see a short, wide woman with a daisy apron get up and make eye contact with you, grinning at you like you're a cute, shy little kid. She heads towards you.
"Yes you did, silly." Sharon says. "You even asked me about it, remember?"
You do remember... You had been so caught up in the salary that you didn't even read the rest of the paper. Surely, something like this would have been noticeable, though, even if you were being unobservant.
"I don't want to go in there." You say.
"Well, going in there is your job, sweetheart." Sharon says. "I'm not going to make you do it, but if you don't even go in on the first day, you're not likely to keep the position." She's gentle, but firm about it, in a way that makes it seem like you're overreacting, and this is all completely normal.
And, well, okay, it's weird, but... you're making a lot of money for it. You can't go another week without a job, you'll lose your apartment.
And it's not like you're in the baby room next door. Some of the people in the room are doing things that look tolerable; reading books, playing cards.
Fuck it, you can always quit if you need to, right?
You step into the room.
"Good choice," Sharon says, her smile returning. "Now, enjoy yourself! I have to get back to my desk.
She leaves, shutting the door behind her with a click and a beep.
You shift focus to the woman heading towards you.
"Hi, baby!" She says, enthusiastically. Her big, colorful earrings sway as she talks expressively. Even though she's looking up at you, she projects a tall authoratative presence. "You can call me Miss Claire. We are so glad to have you here today! It's always so fun to have a brand new Daisy to take care of. Are you potty trained?" She asks.
The question flabbergasts you enough that you don't respond right away.
"It's okay if you're not sure. We can put a pulllup on you for now, and-"
"No, no, I'm potty trained," you answer, quickly. "I am."
"Aw, good job!" Claire says. "Let's go add your name to the potty chart, then."
She leads you to the wall on the left side of the room, which is mostly covered by a giant whiteboard. Attached to it with magnets are a hodgepodge of pictures, posters, and childish drawings, and a big list of rules. The top one reads "I will not leave the Daisy Room without express permission," and is followed by several others. She heads to a big yellow sign, with a column for names and then seven columns for the days of the week, cheerfully labeled "Potty Time!" in bright letters, and adds your name in big bubble letters.
You don't want to judge, but... there are a lot of rain clouds on the chart.
You get a good look around the room while she finishes writing. It's huge, extending far further in than it initially appeared when you saw it from the hallway. Your eyes scan over everything: a craft area, two Daisies laying out a very intricate train track, a TV with pillows and chairs around it, a snack area, a quiet area with cots and mats folded neatly, where one Daisy with headphones on reclines on a beanbag and colors in a notebook, a colorful jungle gym with things to climb and slides and swings, and the very public potty corner with a row of potties and a changing table, which you try and fail to look away from as you notice someone shuck off his pants without a care in the world, revealing a soaked diaper, and then clamber up. He lifts his legs up and waits, and someone in an apron heads over.
You are starting to need to pee. You push the thought to the back of your mind. You've never been able to use the restroom in front of strangers, and you really don't want to. There are the bathrooms outside of the room, right? You'll just go sneak off to use one of those later. They can't watch everyone all the time.
"It's free play right now," Claire says. "Do you know where you'd like to go? Or should I find you a friend?"
"Um," You say, tearing your eyes from where the man is currently being wiped down. Maybe you should get out of here after all.
"Aw, you're a shy little Daisy, aren't you?" She coos. "It's okay, we'll find you a friend."
Before you can protest, she steps over to the front desk and rings a little bell hanging from a post. The chatter in the room ceases and everyone looks at you.
You barely resist the urge to hide behind the desk.
"I have a friend here who needs a friend!" She calls out, loud and clear, and then tells everyone your name and that you're new.
A few heads perk up, but the woman who approaches you is a head taller than Claire. She's dressed up in a fluffy, poofy skirt that seems to you the platonic ideal of something someone would wear to a tea party, and she's wearing colorful beads in her hair that match. She also has little bells on the laces of her colorful sneakers. The result is a sensory experience of a person; as she skips over her beads clack and her skirt flounces and her shoes jingle. It makes her seem like a fairy.
She grabs your hand, and pulls you over to the stuffed animal shelf with a practiced lack of fanfare.
"My name is Hannah. We're going to play veterinary hospital. You're going to be the nurse," she informs you, tapping a finger against her lips decisively as she examines the plush on display, then selects a soft tabby cat plush, which she stuffs into your arms. Hannah then goes to another shelf and returns with a play doctor kit.
"What's the patient's name?" Doctor Hannah asks, putting on her white lab coat.
Stevie the cat, who you name, has a stuck hairball. He is prescribed hairball medicine. Then, Amy the hedgehog puppet needs a nail trim, and Nona the dog gets a prenatal exam where it's revealed she was actually just full of beans.
You get surprisingly involved. Another Daisy named Ken joins in as a lizard owner, and his lizard named Pebble has turned purple, and it turns out that this is because Pebble is a chameleon.
"I'm getting a snack!" Ken says. "Do you want to come?"
You're starting to have to pee more now, you realize, as you leave the world of the veterinary hospital. Your bladder sends an aching complaint. You normally wouldn't wait this long to go. But, you're also hungry and thirsty. You haven't eaten yet today and you haven't had anything to drink since this morning. Hannah cements your decision by also going with Ken, and you really don't want to be left by yourself.
The snacks are really good! The fridge is full of things like little premade sandwiches on rolls, boxes of premade sandwiches, dried fruit, nuts, and sweets. You eat three of the little sandwiches and drink a carton of chocolate milk. You haven't had chocolate milk in ages. You drink the whole thing, even though your bladder protests at the idea of more liquid.
Hannah stands up. She stands with her legs apart, and concentrates. There's a hissing sound, and your face goes red as you realize; she's peeing. You clench your legs together tightly at the sound as your bladder tries to release in tandem with the noise. You need to sneak off to the bathroom very, very soon.
"Oh, that's a good idea, Hannah," Ken says, nonchalantly finishing up the cracker he's eating. "I have to go potty too. But I'm trying to be sunny for a week so I can go in the pool without a diaper when it's our class's turn next Friday, so I'm not wearing a pullup today."
"I don't like to have to stop what I'm doing to go pee," Hannah says "So I'm wearing mine. And I don't mind the swim diapers. They're kinda fun." She's just casually talking as she finishes peeing. "I'll get changed later. I'm going back to the doctor's office. I'll see you there if you come back."
She skips off, although her gait is a little wider.
"Want to come to the potty with me?" Ken asks, pointing at the potty corner. "You seem like you might really have to go. You won't get punished for having an accident, but you'll get a raincloud on your chart. Two rainclouds in a week, and you're gonna have to wear pullups. You can always have them if you want, though."
You shake your head. "I'm ok. I'm going to go check out..." You look for what's close to the door. "The books." I'm going to go check out the books."
"That's fine," Ken shrugs, and walks off towards the potty corner, unbuttoning his pants.
You walk over to the door, pretending to be really interested in the books, and when none of the staff in aprons are looking, you reach for the door handle.
It doesn't open.
Not only does it not open, but a sharp little "Beep-BEEEEEEEP" noise plays. Everyone hears it, and everyone looks up. Hannah looks at you with startled eyes, and Ken shakes his head from where he's currently sitting on the potty.
"I'll take this, it's our new Daisy," Claire says, heading towards you. "Not quite used to the rules yet."
Everyone more or less goes back to what they were doing.
"Do you want to sever your contract?" Claire asks.
It's the first time anyone has truly talked to you like an adult since you got here. It's kind of like a glass of cold water to the face. You freeze.
"If you leave, which you can do," Claire says, "You'll be severing your work contract, and forfeiting this week's pay."
You shake your head. You can't. You'll lose your apartment.
"Then I'm going to assign you a consequence." She says "Some Daisies don't know about the rules when they start out, and I wouldn't ever punish them for that. But the way you were sneaking over here makes me think you were deliberately breaking the rules. Am I right?" She asks.
You nod. You squeeze your legs together. You don't know if you can hold it for however long this "consequence" is.
"Thank you for being honest. We'll go for a light consequence. You're going to have timeout on the potty for ten minutes, because, sweetie, I can tell you need to go. You can bring a stuffed animal to cover your lap, if you're shy of anyone seeing you."
She leads you over to the potty.
Everyone can see you, as you sit there, covering your lap with a big plush giraffe. You bury your face in its fur.
You need to go potty. It's so, so full! It's trying really hard to come out, but you can't let yourself go in front of everyone like this.
Seven minutes in, it aches so bad you actually try to go, but you can't relax even though your bladder cramps and aches. You squeeze the giraffe tighter, a few tears dripping from your eyes to its mane. You need to pee!
You can tell Claire is disappointed when the timer goes off and you haven't gone. "Well, honey," she says. "You can get up now, but I don't know what you think is going to happen. You poor little bladder can't keep all that peepee inside forever."
You see what's going to happen as soon as you stand, dropping the giraffe, and bend over to pull up your pants.
Your bladder spasms and the floodgates shatter. You're pissing, full force, right in front of the potty, helpless to stop it. You grab yourself with a whine, but the pee just streams between your fingers. It splatters down onto the potty and into your pants. You let out a choked cry. You can't stop!
"There, there, it's alright," Claire says, and pulls you back down to sit on the potty, helping adjust you so you're going into the bowl. The stream sprays against the plastic loudly, and the noise startles you into stopping for a moment, but then the flood of involuntary release is back and you're going in the potty. Everyone is looking again, and you can't help it. You begin to cry in earnest, with a hiccuping sob. You reach for the giraffe.
"Honey, you're gonna get peepee all over your friend Giraffe if you hug him now," Claire says, rubbing your shoulder with one hand. "Just take a deep breath and finish going potty. Then we'll get you cleaned up and you can have your giraffe."
You cry and pee and pee and cry. There's a lot of it, it takes a while. When the splashing then trickling into the bowl finally stops, Claire removes your shoes and pants. She walks you over to the sink, even though you're still completely naked from the waist down, and washes your hands for you, then takes you over to the changing table.
"Lie down, sweetie, and I'll get Giraffe," she instructs, and you numbly do what she says. You're still crying now, but quietly. Everyone in the room seems to have moved on. "There's a love. Here you are."
She hands you the giraffe, and you hug it to your chest.
She uses a little built in sprayer, "For big accidents," she explains, to spray down your legs, then dries you off. "Do you want undies or a pullup?"
You choose underwear, obviously, and she slides a pair decorated in cute, colorful cartoon dogs up and onto you. She then offers you a choice of bottoms, gives you a tight, comforting hug, and lets you go.
You shuffle, embarrassed, back towards Ken and Hannah.
"That was silly," Hannah says. "But I know new Daisies can be silly sometimes, so it's okay." She gives you a hug, and then Ken also gives you a hug. You're a little shocked at the open display of affection. You think you've been hugged more today than in the last 6 months.
They're playing restaurant now, with plastic food and plates, and you allow yourself to be comfortably distracted by filling your role as waiter and bringing the dishes to the waiting customers, who are varyingly Daisies, aproned caregivers, and different toys.
At the end of the day, a bell rings. You'd almost forgotten your work hours. Home at 6.
"Alright, everyone!" Someone in an apron who you haven't met yet calls. "Have a good night. Overnighters, please form a line over here so I can take roll. The changing rooms on the third floor are now open so you can change back into your home clothes."
You're stopped on the way out by Claire, who hands you a bag with your pants and shoes inside, fresh and clean. "I think you'll have a better day tomorrow," she says, with an encouraging smile.
Back at home, you lie on your bed in your studio apartment and stare at the ceiling.
I place my own glass of water on the table then slide another towards her.
"What's this?" She points to the glass.
"Your water, drink up." I say nonchalantly and take a long sip from my own glass.
"But..." she glances at the digital oven clock, "bedtime is in like half an hour."
"I know! That's why you need to drink it. This is the next step of nighttime potty training."
"It'll make me pee! That's why we said no drinking an hour before bed!" She gesticulates grandly and sticks her arms out.
"Sweetie, the hour rule is like training wheels. Real grownups who don't wet the bed should be able to drink as much as they want at any time before bed without any problems. Trust me on this."
She doesn't need to know this glass will have me waking up at 2 in the morning. At least, unlike her, I wake up to pee.
She eyes the glass and bites her lip. "I don't know...I don't want to ruin my progress. I haven't had a full night time accident in a week!"
"Exactly, that's why it's time to start holding you to grown up standards. Now, drink. Then we'll brush teeth." I say with my Mommy knows best voice.
She resigns, and picks up the glass. A little dribble escapes and runs down her chin.
"There you go, just a little more, that's it!" I flash a big smile at her, hoping some positive reinforcement will get her more on my side.
After we brush our teeth and she's gone potty for the last time I guide her towards the bedroom with my hand on the small of her back.
She still is not sold. "And, what if I pee in the bed?"
"You have a pull-up on, baby." I pull back the covers and reach for my bedside lamp.
"Yeah, but that was a big glass..."
"Well, if you really are ready to be dry all night then your body will wake you up, or you will hold it all night long."
"And if I'm not ready?" She climbs into the bed next to me.
"Then you aren't. Some people just don't learn how to stay dry at night. If you can't handle a glass of water before bed then we should probably just go back to diapers. It's not a bad thing, just what's right for you. Aw, don't look so beat up, sweetheart. I know you've worked hard the last few weeks. It's just not worth if it you can't do it all the way." I shrug and open up the Magic Treehouse book I'm reading to her this week.
By the time I tuck the bookmark in next to an illustration of Jack and Annie wandering a prehistoric landscape she's squirming next to me.
"Everything ok?" I feign concern.
"Can I go potty one last time before bed?" Her eyes are wide and pleading.
"I'm afraid not. Grown-ups can hold it all night long."
"But we aren't sleeping yet! Please, you go potty before bed all the time!"
"Shhh, I don't want to hear excuses. It's bedtime. Goodnight, I love you," I kiss her forehead and pull the covers up, "Remember sweetie, not everyone is ready to be dry all night, and that's just fine.
The humiliation aspects of potty training though… getting your Little Guy and your friend’s Little together, your friend’s Little is a smidgen younger but right in the throes of potty training compared to yours, who is very much a big diaper bum still. When your friend and their Little arrive, your friend is lugging the potty under one arm, this great purple glittery thing with Pinkie Pie on the front, and their Little excitedly shows your Little their new DVD - it’s My Little Pony, except the subtitle is POTTY TRAINING IS MAGIC!
Your friend gives you an apologetic smile, “You know how it is with potty training!”
But you really don’t mind. “Why don’t you watch that new cartoon together?” You tell your Little, who scowls at the pink pretty pony DVD. You don’t really mind if your Little stays padded or not, either, but you’re wondering if this will nudge them in the direction of the potty instead. Plus, you know your Little adores their friend. It isn’t long before they’re both snuggled up on the living room rug watching as Twilight Sparkle trots around and trills about how great it is to use the potty, or how Fluttershy gently tells the two to ‘tell a grown up right away if you get any tingly feelings!’
Your Little is scowling; you know they aren’t a fan of anything pink, glittery, or My Little Pony—in public, anyway. In private, they’ve curled up with you and begged you not to tell as they’re engrossed in the latest season, rubbing the soft furred ears of their pink Jellycat bunny between their fingers.
You just chuckle, keeping up a steady supply of My Little Pony, Sofia the First, Peppa Pig and Barbie colouring sheets as well as a generous serving of orange juice for both. This, your friend tells you, is a test for their little; the first ‘outing’ since beginning their potty training regime, so it’s important to keep them well hydrated. And it’s working — soon, there’s one fidgety Little squeezing between their legs with one hand and still trying to colour with the other.
“If you squeeze that crayon any tighter it’ll snap,” You tell them, giggling, and they look up at you, their face entirely red. Their eyes snap nervously from you, to their lap, to their caregiver; their caregiver smiles patiently.
“I think we need to stop, hm? What did Fluttershy say?”
Silence. Then a whine. Then a tiny stammered, “T- tell your grown ups if you get tingly feelings?”
More silence. They look like they might combust in shame as their caregiver looks expectantly down their nose at them. You all do, waiting for the magic words...
“I have to go!”
They begin to whine, dropping their crayon and looking for the potty. It’s next to the armchair right out in the open, but they don’t seem fussed that it’s so public; more so that they have to stop their fun and games. There’s rustling and soft whimpers of, “hurry!” as they try to get out of their onesie in time. All those fiddly buttons!
Your Little is looking over, too. It’s been a long time since they’ve used the potty, so you suspect the rush and panic seems almost novel to them, in a way. Over by the armchair there’s a gasp, and then the sound of liquid cracking noisily against plastic. You ‘ohh’ and cheer, and their caregiver has begun to clap. A dizzied smile has spread across the Little’s face.
“Look at the big kid! Clap, baby!” You encourage.
Your Little claps, a little grudgingly. It’s not that it’s not a big deal, ‘cause it is sort of a big deal, especially all out in the open with everyone gawking. But they wet their padding all the time and theydon’t get any fanfare for it.
“I think that means a sticker on your chart, baby. You’re doing so good, you have five now. Tell everyone what you’re going to get when your chart is filled up?”
The other little pulls their thumb from their mouth. “New stuffie,” they mumble. They’re a bit pink. Like a new stuffie is something to brag about.
“Oooh. Five whole stars! Maybe your turn?” You turn toward your Little, grinning teasingly. They haven’t been out of padding for longer than a few hours at a time, so it’s like asking them if they want to stick their hand in a mud puddle.
…Hmpf. Your Little’s face has clouded over and it seems to have sparked their competitive streak. They nod decisively, and you bite back the scoffed ‘Oh?’ you so desperately want to. How hard can it be?
So, legs-spread on the couch, off comes the diaper. Up go the underwear and pyjama shorts.
It’s easy, of course, while Little’s bladder is relatively empty. Lulls them into a false sense of security, perhaps—you can see the curl of their lip as they scribble and chatter to their playmate. You occasionally throw in an ‘are you okay?’ Only to get ‘mmm’s and ‘uh huh’s in response.
But all that juice has to go somewhere.
Out.
Out, and into their padding. Sucking it up thirstily. They sit by the coffee table, jiggling both legs but much too engrossed in getting Twilight Sparkle’s mane just right, when there’s a funny tingle between their legs. They barely even notice, relaxing as they are so used to doing, expecting the gentle flush of warmth as it’s absorbed by poofy padding. They get the rush of warmth, sure, but it spurts through fabric and pitters noisily onto the wood floor. They gasp, squeak, try to clamp a hand on their parts and close their legs at the same time. “Oh! Uh oh! Oh no!”
“Something the matter?” You ask them knowingly, as if you can’t see the dark spot on their shorts.
Next to them, their playmate mouths in a stage whisper to ‘tell their grown up’. They ignore them, staggering to their feet for the potty, even though they’re losing drips and dribbles as they go. They are determined to get a sticker, and the praise their friend has had.
“Potty time?” You lean over, getting their soggy shorts down in a swoop. There’s a wet patch, the size of an orange, in their shorts and as they clomp down onto the plastic bowl they look sad. All of you wait for the hiss of liquid against plastic.
And wait. And wait.
It doesn’t come.
Little is sitting on the potty, fidgeting, and nibbling at a quivering lip. Their bladder is bursting, they can feel it, right there. But there’s something stopping them; the combination of being watched, of the anticipation of it, of listening to a children’s cartoon, like prancing ponies are their new superduper proud best friends. They make a soft whining noise and shake their head, getting up. Their shorts are still around their ankles.
“Never mind. Try again later.” You say. Little’s friend and caregiver turn back to the colouring. You barely move to lift their shorts up when they squeal and grab for themselves as—
“Uh oh!”
—urine begins to gush out. It streams between their clasping fingers and onto the wood floor, spreading around their feet in a large - and rapidly expanding - puddle.
“It— it just started! Coming out!” They exclaim. Their voice sounds watery but earnest.
“It’s supposed to be in the potty, not next to it,” you say lightly.
“Didn’t listen to Fluttershy,” their friend supplies chidingly.
Little’s chin begins to tremble and they start to cry, fat tears rolling down their cheeks. Half naked, sobbing, in a puddle of their own piss. Frankly, wearing nappies and watching My Little Pony would be less humiliating than this. It seems they’re going to be a diaper bum for a lot longer yet…
🍼 Littles taking a few minutes to do their business while on their potty, because they’re so used to using their diapers that they’re shy about going anywhere else. So they need some encouragement, maybe some belly rubs/presses to get them to go~.
🍼 Tiny grunts and whines when they push themselves, puffing out their cheeks and buckling their knees together. ..Mostly a messing thing but still cute!
🍼 Littles being so desperate when they run to the potty that they can’t just pull their pants/diaper/what have you right away, they’re still standing with buckled knees, holding hands against their crotch and hopping from foot to foot. One wrong move and they’ll have an accident!
🍼 Running to the potty and forgetting to take their clothes off–gotta go so badly that they just sit right down and go!! …But then blush as soon as they realize there’s no pitter-pattering of liquid hitting plastic, and their nethers feel a lot warmer~.
🍼 “ I gotta go potty!! ”, “ I hav'ta potty!! ”, “ I need the potty right now!! ”, “ Ohhh, I’m gonna potty in my pants-..!! ”, “ Take me to the potty..! ” Desperate, whiny and fussy statements ( • ̀ω•́ )✧
🍼 “ Ii, I really need to potty… ”, “ Um.. I need the potty..! ”, “ Will y-you take me to the p-potty, please…? ”, “ Uu-uh-oh, I think I need the potty!! ”, “ Uuuuh, I hav'ta gooo…! ” Quiet Littles who need to go, but are shy about asking/telling~
🍼 “ I didn’t make it to the potty…. ”, “ I, I need a change… I missed the potty ”, “ I was too busy playing to go potty.. ”, “ I had a potty accident… ” Accident phrases~
🍼 Potty Charts Potty Charts Potty Charts!!! ♡♡♡
🍼 “ Baby, do you need to potty? ”, “ Let’s try using the potty. ”, “ Can you go potty like a big boy/girl/kid? ”, “ No, no. You can’t use the adult potty. You’re too Little for that~. ”, “ Do you need Mommy’s/Daddy’s/Caretaker’s help to use the potty? ”, “ Uh-oh, does somebody need the potty? ”, “ Uh-oh, did someone forget to use the potty? ”
🍼 “ We can’t use the potty right now, you have to hold it. ”, “ We’re almost home, you can hold it baby! ”, “ Shhh, if you really need to go that bad, use your diaper. Mommy/Daddy/Caretaker won’t be mad~. You did your best. ”
🍼 “ Good boy/girl/baby!! You used the potty~! ”, “ Who’s making piddles and/or pushies in the potty like a good boy/girl/baby? ”, “ Looks like someone’s getting stickers on their Potty Chart~! ”
I want to come home from running errands all day, already feeling a small but manageable ping in my bladder as I walk through the door to my home.
I'd be expecting to see my partner(s) waiting for me, but instead I noticed something strange. The whole house had been rearranged to resemble an escape room full of puzzles and locks on various doors and other objects. On the coffee table, there's a note that reads;
"Hey darling. I/we've decided that the bathroom is off limits for you. I/we'll be back home in a few hours, so you better figure out how to unlock the bathroom door"
I'm forced to solve various puzzles and follow clues to find keys— all which are, disappointingly, not the key I need to unlock the bathroom door. I spend about an hour or so unlocking things and squatting down to find hidden objects— all while the coffee I had while I was out to start funneling into my bladder more and more.
My desperation would get so bad that I'd have to decide if it's better to pee outside in the open, or to accept defeat and go into my pants. There's the kitchen sink that has a mountain of dirty dishes on it, which id be forced to hand wash before I can even THINK about using that as an emergency toilet. Turning on the faucet immediately makes my strained bladder dribble into my underwear, forcing me to stop the task.
I am completely unaware that my partners(s) had been watching me through hidden cameras the whole time, taking pleasure in seeing my panicked scramble as the timer on my bladder starts running out.
PPLLLEEEEAAASEEE do more feminine specifics omo regression stories!!!!! also, the water park setting was absolutely adorable <3 i hope u use that setting more!
yaaay right away boss. 1 fem regression omo story coming right up! also i might do a swim lesson story later about someone being taught to swim for the first time as an adult by a friend and then totally regressing and peeing themself in the pool right on that person's lap so it's really obvious.... but that's for later
A Little is on the special bus on her way to preschool for littles and she's nervous... she and her mama have been working on her potty training all winter break and today is her first day at preschool in her new training undies. Every pair has a different My Little Pony character on them, and her mama kept having to put her in timeout for pulling her pants down to look at them at inappropriate times.
Today she is wearing RD, to help remind her to be brave and remember to run super fast to the potty when she has to go. She just gets so focused on the activities when she's regressed, which isn't normally a problem when she's padded, but her new undies really don't hold anything. If she goes peepee in these, her outfit's going to get wet and yucky. So right now, she has to focus on making it to the potty every time. And she's so focused on it, as the bus plays the same soundtrack that it does every day, (to condition the Littles aboard to regress at the sound) well, she realizes might have forgotten to go potty before leaving the house this morning.
Uh oh....
It's a-okay, because the first thing at daycare every day is morning potty time for all the Littles that use the potty. So she just has to concentrate on holding all her peepee in until then. She wiggles in her seat, and tries to adjust the waistband of her skirt so it's pressing on her bladder less, to no avail. Why didn't Mama remind her to go this morning?! Ugh, and she'd had all that orange juice, too...
She holds it and holds it and holds it, even when the bus goes over all the bumpy parts of the road on the way to the preschool, and makes her whine a little in the back of her throat. She has to go really bad. She squeezes her legs together, trying to think dry thoughts, even though the soothing music is also making her want to relax and play. If she relaxes any part of herself right now, all the pee is going to come out!
When the bus pulls into the parking lot, she hops out of her seat before the doors open, and rushes up to the front. The bus driver, an older woman with close-cropped hair who cuts a wide, stern figure, blocks her path. "Little miss," she says, firmly. "You know the rules. No one is to get out of their seats until the bus comes to a complete stop and the doors open."
"I know, I know, I know, but, but, it's an emergency!" Usually her voice isn't so high and stuttery, even when regressed fully, but she's really flustered.
"Is someone hurt?" The bus driver asks.
"N-no, but-"
"Is the bus on fire?"
"No! But I need to-"
"Then you sit your little bottom right back down in your seat. And you stay there until everyone else is off the bus. The rules are in place for a reason."
"But I need to pee!" She blurts out.
"I'm sure plenty of the other babies on this bus need the potty too, and you, young lady, are keeping them waiting." The bus driver says, flatly. "Now, the sooner you get back in your seat, the sooner you can get off the bus and to the potty."
She reluctantly walks back down the aisle, and squirms impatiently as the rest of the daycare-goers all pile off, seemingly in no rush. Her bladder is protesting, she hasn't had to hold it this long in a really long time! At home with Mama, the potty was always right there- and before that, she'd been in diapers 24/7 for almost a year!
Finally, after talking forever with the bus driver, the last little besides her gets off the bus. She stands up, hurry hurry hurrying up to the front of the bus. She'd thought it might be hard to stay dry all day, but not that she'd be so close to an accident this morning! She's unable to stay still, her hands pressed tight between the legs of her corduroy overalls. "Um, Ma'am, I'm really really really sorry but I think I'm gonna have an accident if I don't get to the potty right now!"
The bus driver sighs. "Alright. You can go on your way. Just remember the bus rules next time!" She says, increasing in volume so the Little can hear her as she scurries down the stairs of the bus and towards her classroom door.
...But the teacher is outside. And the classroom door is locked!
"Um, excuse me, Miss, but, why is everyone outside?!" she asks, trying to sound polite, but on the verge of tears.
"Oh, dear, don't you remember?" The teacher asks. "Today is a field trip! We'll all be taking a second bus down to the art museum, they've agreed to put on a special tour for all you little ones."
"But, what about morning potty time?" she asks, starting to panic. She's not going to be able to hold it all the way to the museum, it's already so hard to hold it now, a little spurt leaks out and it's only her panties that are wet but it's not going to stay that way for long...
"We're going to have morning potty time at the museum, dear." The teacher says, but then reconsiders her posture and expression. "But, something tells me you can't wait for that. Let's get you in and to the potty, sweetie."
So the whole class goes inside after the teacher unlocks the door, because they can't be left unsupervised, and they're all annoyed and waiting as she runs over to the corner with the training potties, and she's standing right over the potty.
Why did her Mama put her in overalls!! She's leaking as she tries to undo the colorful buttons with her shaky, panicking hands, feeling dribbles make their way down her legs and soak into her socks. She starts crying, because everyone came inside so she wouldn't have an accident but now she's starting to have an accident and she doesn't think she's gonna make it, her bladder's so full!
She gets the straps undone and then finally shoves them down and her body just starts peeing, full force, and she can't stop! It's splattering everywhere, so she sits down on the potty, even though she didn't get her panties off. She's peeing right through Rainbow, and she covers her face as the stream slowly tapers off into a trickle and then stops. She peed a bunch in her overalls, and she totally soaked her undies, and now everyone's going to be late to the museum because of her.
She's too overwhelmed and upset to keep track of what's going on, just too focused on how awful she feels as the teacher gently helps her up, and walks her up to the changing table and gets her cleaned up and put in a pull-up (the daycare doesn't have extra undies, and that makes her cry harder, because she's totally failed at potty training.)
She gets gently herded into the quiet corner, and then in the background she can hear a muttered conversation, and then a new voice, and then the room getting quieter. She doesn't care, she's too busy being upset. She had a big accident! She cries, and hugs the stuffed animal that's now in her arms, and shuts everything out as she continues to sob.
Then, there's a really familiar voice, having a conversation with the new voice from earlier.
"Yes, she just had an accident and then got completely overwhelmed. Poor thing, I think it was just all a little much for her."
"I agree, I think having her not go before leaving the house and the overalls was the perfect storm for an accident this morning. She's definitely super regressed, I haven't seen her like this in a while." That's her Mama's voice!
She lifts her head up, still blurry with tears, and runs to her Mama, working hard for her words. "Mama, I.... I went." The 'And I ruined it for everyone and I made a big mess and now I don't get to go to the museum,' doesn't come out, she just manages a sad little sobbing whine as she hides her face in Mama's sweater.
"I know, baby. I know." Her Mama pets her hair. "Let's go home, and get you in a new outfit, and then we can meet all your friends at the art museum. Your teacher left Mr. Danny from the class next door to watch you while you waited for me, and the rest of the class is on their way there now. I bet that if we go now, we can get you all dressed and to the museum in time for finger painting!"
"Really?" She asks, looking back up at her Mama again, with wide eyes. Her Mama is really so wonderful, the best Mama in the world.
"Yes, really." Mama takes her hand. "Now, let's go. We want to catch up with all your friends!"
waterpark regression omo with a little who doesn't know what a swim diaper does because i think that would be cute...
A little who's mostly potty trained is still required to wear a swim diaper at the pool under her swimsuit, a cutesy one-piece with a ruffly skirt. Cool, she thinks! She can just use it when she needs to go, instead of having to waste time waiting in line for the potty and going there, even though her mommy tells her that she still needs to use the potty like a big girl. So she doesn't stop to go peepee when her mommy recommends it.
She also doesn't go after the break for water and a smoothie, when she can feel herself start filling up with pee. She doesn't want to stop riding on the slides! It's so fun, and yes, she's noticing the pressure more and more when between the rides, but, she can go whenever, so she doesn't have to worry about leaving time to get to the potty. And it kind of feels a little good to be so full of piss.
She gets to the line for the really big slide, the new one they put in this summer and it really starts hitting. She's really really full, her lower tummy is bulged out a little bit around her bladder, and the pee feels like it's taking up all the space in her belly from her bellybutton right down to her pee hole. It REALLY really wants to come out, it's trying really hard, and her bladder keeps spasming and trying to force little leaks out.
But she doesn't want a wet diaper on the slide! Even though it's wet from the water on all the rides, she's sure it would be noticeable, and the lifeguard up at the top of the slide might notice and send her alllll the way back down the line to the bottom to get her mommy for a change. So she holds it, at the bottom of the line, and she keeps holding it up the first two flights of stairs, and then wiggles and jiggles and squeeeeeezes her way up to the very tippy top where the slide is.
She's pretty sure the lifeguard notices how she's nervously shuffling in line and fidgeting with the skirt on her way to the tube down the slide, but he doesn't say anything.
The big slide is REALLY fun, but she lets out a little spurt of pee on the way down by accident, because it's so fast and spinny, and she REALLY needs to go potty, so she finds her mommy and decides to go.
She's trying to be casual and discreet about it when she lets go standing there, but- PSHHHH!! The swim diaper doesn't hold anything back at all! The peepee just sprays right through it, right onto the pavement in front of her mommy!
She manages to stop peeing for just a second, long enough for her mommy to turn around and see her panicked expression and the wet spot between her legs on the ground. She thinks about rushing to to the potty. But she can't keep it in any longer than that, because she's just so so full and her body was expecting release and letting a little out weakened her muscles and she finds herself pissing herself completely, right there in the middle of the waterpark, the piss soaking and dribbling through her diaper and swimsuit.
Her face is red, and she tries to look down so she can hide it with her hair, but it doesn't work very well. And even if she doesn't look down, she can hear the spattering of the pee against the pavement. She looks up at her mommy.
Mommy looks down at her, and smiles. "Looks like someone learned about swim diapers today."
All she can do is nod, face completely red.
Mommy takes her to the pool showers to clean up. She has to take her whole swimsuit off to get the swim diaper off and get scrubbed over by Mommy, and everyone in the shower room is cooing at her. "Awww, did your little one have an accident? What a cutie!" One woman asks.
"Yes, she did." Mommy says. "She thought she could avoid a potty break by using her swim diaper... I really would have thought she'd know better."
The little whines and tries to hide her face, but Mommy moves her arm so the woman can see her cute blushy face.
At home, Mommy has her start potty training all over again, since she clearly wanted to use a diaper badly.
idea: you play videos games while games while I sit back and watch you, and keep bringing you drinks because we both know you don’t drink enough water. you’re so focused that by the time you notice you need to pee at all, you’re already nearing the stage of desperation, but I convince you to play one last game before you go.
the drinks hit you way faster than expected, and soon you’re squirming. since you’re playing with a controller, you can only very briefly use your hands to hold yourself sometimes. focusing on the game makes it harder to hold, but the growing desperation distracts you, and you make more mistakes than usual, so you’re always catching up, fixing something you did wrong, or dangerously close to a game over. bouncing in your seat affects your dexterity with buttons, so that too has to stay minimal.
desperation comes and goes in waves. sometimes, you’re on the edge of your seat, shaking, gripping the controllers so tight your knuckles are white, but then it finally calms down and you can forget you even needed to go.
that might be the the most treacherous part, because you’re so engrossed in the game that you don’t see it coming, when the need rises again.
your full attention is stretched thin between the game, which keeps getting more difficult, and keeping control of your bladder, so you don’t think not to keep drinking, out of motor reflex.
so focused are you on not losing, you don’t even notice the first time you leak a little bit, while navigating a tricky game section at the height of a desperation surge. you only feel it after, when you can relax a tad and slightly unclench your legs, feeling dampness between them.
the next time you try to navigate a hard game sequence, your bladder throbs in need again, as if it knows the worst moments to remind you how full you are. a much bigger spurt of piss hisses between your legs, one you can’t ignore or not notice, and, by that point, it’s basically already too late.
you try to wrap up the play, to get to a safe area so you can just put down the controller and dash for the bathroom, but you can’t seem to find one, and the frantic searching takes some of your focus away from your bursting bladder. the wet patch on your pants keeps slowly growing and growing, even with your best efforts to clamp your legs and your muscles shut. you’re so desperate, so close to losing control, you can barely focus on playing anymore, and it’s taking you much longer than it should to find a safe zone. by the time you do, you’ve been spitting in your pants every other moment, and when you see the end is near, your body nearly gives up on the spot in anticipation.
the moment you make it, you drop the controller and shove your hands between your legs, tight on your wet crotch, and you feel warmth hissing against your palm. you stand up, but it’s too late. you can’t do it anymore, the gravity does you in. you try to take a step, you really do, but it’s entirely futile. piss gushes out of you, uncontrollably, spilling between your fingers and down your thighs. it splatters on the floor below in a few large bursts, which is when you finally give up—or maybe you’re forced to by your muscles giving up. it all starts coming out, so much all at once, and it lasts so long, you hadn’t realized how much you had drank at all.
when it finally calms down, the last of it coming out in a few large bursts, you stand there, absolutely soaked, embarrassed, and so so so relieved to finally be empty.
thinking about only being allowed to use a training potty so i cant ever go when we're out and about. mommy tells me i have to at least sit on the potty and try before we can go to the toy store to spend my gift card but i'm too excited! my bottom barely touches the potty before i get back up and pull my training undies up. "all done!" i say, wiggling in place a little. it's just because i'm happy to go to the toy store though. i don't need to go potty
"honey," she says, kindly, "are you sure you don't need to go? you really didn't try for very long. the toy store doesn't have a potty you can use, so you really need to go now."
"i'm all done!" i insist. "i don't have to go."
in the car, i maybe realize that i do kind of have to go... but it's ok, i can hold it. i secretly press my crotch up against the belt of my car seat so mommy can't see me holding myself with my hands.
when we get out at the toy store, i'm so excited to look at everything that i don't even have to think about how bad i need to potty for awhile. but when it comes back, as i'm standing in front of the stuffed animals, it's YIKES! i really, reallyreally have to go... but there's not a potty here i can use, and i haven't decided if i'm going to get the softy stuffed dragon or the lego set or the plug n play tv game yet. i keep walking frantically between the three. i really have to go...
i keep letting out little tiny leaks into my training undies because i just need to go so badly and they're starting to get a really big wet spot on the inside but it feels like the more i let out, the worse i need to go. i finally decide on the legos and run hurriedly to the checkout line, pulling mommy along.
"do you have to go potty, baby?" she asks. it's pretty obvious at this point, with the way i'm walking with my legs a little apart so the cold wet training undies don't squish all yucky in between my legs. but i still shake my head.
"are you sure?" she asks. "the line is pretty long, and we might be able to make it home now in time for you to use the potty if we put the legos back. we can come back for them another day."
i am not going to give up my legos! i look up at her wide eyed. "i'm okay, mommy, i can hold it!"
"alright, it's your choice." she says.
by the time we get to the checkout counter, i've leaked through my training undies. there's a wet spot on the crotch of my pants and i pull the fabric to hide it as i hand my purchase and gift card to the nice lady at the checkout.
"oh, had a little accident, did you?" she says, knowingly. "i know the toy store can be so exciting for you little ones." i realize she thinks i've already had a whole accident, but i still really have to go! i've only been letting out tiny leaks the whole time and my bladder is sore and aching and complaining and i step back and forth and wait wait wait for her to stop talking. when she finally does, the wet spot on my pants is about an inch bigger.
i get to the car and i whine as mommy straps me in, the strap compressing my full bladder. "i have to go, potty mommy, i really really have to go," i complain.
"well, sweetheart. we don't have a potty for you in the car, so you're just going to have to try and wait." even mommy knows i'm not going to make it. i hug my lego set and look out the window and try not to focus on the ocean of liquid in my tummy, but it's hard when so much of my mind is occupied screaming about how bad i need to go potty.
the bump up the curb to our driveway is what does it, it jolts me and it's the last straw. i can hear a pshhhhh and the warm flow of liquid just won't stop coming out no matter how tight i squeeze. "mommy, mommy, hurry, i need to get out, i need to get to the potty, i'm going peepee, i need the potty!" i beg, but it's too late. i'm emptying completely into the carseat, the peepee pooling around my bottom and getting the hem of my shirt wet.
by the time mommy has the car stopped, i'm almost empty. i'm crying and hiccuping and hugging my lego set as the involuntart stream stops, although i still have to go a little. mommy helps me out onto the driveway, where i try to somehow hide my accident, but there's no way i can hide from or distract from how completely soaked my lower half is.
"that's right," mommy says, not unkindly, but matter of fact, holding my wrist so i can't run into the house. "you had a really big peepee accident, didn't you? and now all the neighbors can see it. this is why we have to go potty before leaving the house, even if we're really excited."
"i'm sorry, mommy!" i gasp, still crying. "i'm sorry, i won't do it again. but i still have to make more peepee, i need to go inside!"
there's not really that much left in my bladder, but it's so sensitive and overstretched from holding it that it feels like i really have to go still.
"no, sweetheart. you decided today you were going to have an accident in your pants instead of using the potty. you can follow through on that decision, and finish going right here."
i look down, ashamed, as i do what mommy said. it's really hard for me to go potty standing up with my pants on on purpose, and it takes a few stops and starts before i can get the last couple spurts of liquid out of my bladder. they dribble down through my already soaked pants and drip under me in a pathetic little puddle.
i serve my time out after my bath sitting on the potty, sniffling as i think about how i have to wait to build my legos until tomorrow.
I need to make him beg for permission to "potty" while he crosses his legs and grabs himself and doesn't even care how stupid and pathetic he looks, face flushed and purely focused on the pressure in his bladder and my answer
I need to make him beg for permission to "potty" while he crosses his legs and grabs himself and doesn't even care how stupid and pathetic he looks, face flushed and purely focused on the pressure in his bladder and my answer
