You have to love her when she's closetted. When she's not ready, when she's afraid to be herself.
You have to love her when she's depressed, when she's euphoric, when she's stressed and ill and relaxed.
You have to love her when she's vulnerable.
You have to love her when she's curled in on herself, hiding that gaping hole in her heart. When she's pushing you away and deflecting and protecting herself.
You have to love her when she's hurt.
You have to love her when she's happy. When all the cares in the world have melted away and she's in the moment and looking at something and wearing that smile you never see, when just for a moment, everything is okay.
You have to love her when she's so busy loving others that she isn't being loved herself.
You have to love her when she's losing herself.
You have to love her when she's disabled. When she can't eat, or clean or do anything but cry. When she can't stand or walk, when she can't see or hear.
You have to love her when she's in pain.
You have to love her when she's not herself.
You have to love her when she's someone else.
You have to love her when she feels hollow. When she feels like she's little more than a mass of flesh and bones that once had the idea of emotion.
You have to love her when she reads this and goes "yes, except for me".
"Anyone got a graphing calculator?" your group project member asks.
"Yup,” You feel around in your backpack, expecting to feel the spiral edge of a notebook or the cool, hard case of your calculator.
Instead, your fingers brush up on soft, smooth, plastic. It crinkles against your fingers and you pull back like it burned you.
What the fuck?
For the first time you look away from your homework and into your backpack. No...it's not your backpack, it's your partners. Two pull-ups, a diaper, a rolled up pair of their jeans, and their philosophy class reader sit inside. Your graphing calculator, statistics text book or green water bottle personalized with stickers are no where to be found.
"Find it?"
"Uh, no. Must of left it at home, sorry."
In the time it took you to have your mini heart attack and bout of confusion, someone else has pulled out a calculator and your team has resumed working. Your mind isn't on statistics anymore. It's on the fact that you have your partners bag and they must have yours. You'll survive without your textbooks for a few hours, but the contents of the bag at your feet are pretty essential.
You had exchanged laughs last holiday season when you both opened the same backpack, gifted from each other. It's not so funny anymore.
When you tug your phone from your pocket to inform them of the mix up you realize you're a little late.
*3 missed calls from Nicky*
Text from Nicky, 2:00 pm: hey call me when u get the chance
Text from Nicky, 2:02 pm: did u take my backpack? i definitely have urs
Text from Nicky, 2:12 pm: it's kind of an emergency
“Hey, sorry guys, I’m gonna make a quick phone call."
You sling Nicky's backpack over your shoulder. The group gives you half-attentive nods and waves as you slip out of the study room.
You take the library steps two at a time. You've already pressed Nicky's contact and brought your phone to your ear by the time you stumble through the automatic doors and onto the grass lined pavement.
All you hear when the line connects are a few sniffles.
“Nicky, oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t see your messages. I have your backpack, do you need it?”
“Uh-huh.” Their voice is wobbly.
“Where are you? Maybe we can meet in the middle. I’m at the Smithson library.”
“N-no."
“No?”
“I can’t leave where I’m at,” their voice is barely above a whisper.
“Why? Are you hurt?”
“No…I leaked. Bad.” Now it sounds like their voice is breaking.
Your heart hurts for them, and you want to do everything you can to make it better now.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I get it. I’ll come to you. Are you somewhere private?”
“Im in the single stall bathroom of the humanities building.”
Ok, you think; that’s not too far. You can be there in less than 10 minutes if you walk fast and avoid the tour groups that congregate and block the quad constantly.
--
You knock softly on the door of the single occupancy bathroom.
"Nicky? It's me."
The door opens slowly and Nicky has positioned themselves to be nearly behind it, out of sight of any one who could be walking past. When you finally get a look at them you know they weren't exaggerating.
A softball sized wet patch is on their crotch, with twin streaks down each thigh. You think their socks might even be wet.
Nicky's breathing is elevated and they're choking on their sobs.
"Oh, sweetheart, breathe. I'm here now, I can help. I know wet pants don't feel good."
"I think I pooped, too," Nicky manages between staccato inhales.
Oh. That hasn't happened for a while. But, they do seem to be more common when they're stressed or sick. You know they have a big project due at the end of the month.
"What happened?"
You start pulling the necessary supplies out of Nicky's backpack. Wipes, a plastic bag for the soiled clothes, a clean pull-up and jeans. The light wash denim doesn’t go with their outfit at all, but it's all you have.
"I...I was trying to hard to hold my pee and make it on time...but I guess I didn't know I had to go poop too. When I got here I had peed a lot already and it was already on my pants and I just stood here and cried for a little. Then I saw I had the wrong bag and...I just cried and cried. I didn't know what to do. By the time I knew it was coming it was too late."
"The potty is right here..." you motion around you. Probably not the thing they need to hear right now, though.
Nicky's face scrunches up, "I knoowww," they wail. They use both their fists to rub at their eyes.
"It's ok, it's ok. Let's just get you cleaned up. We can go home after this." You really hope the humanities building has adequate sound proofing and thick walls.
After they're all wiped down and standing pantsless and barefoot on the cool floor you hold out the pull-up for them to step into.
"I think I need a diaper," they whisper around the thumb in their mouth.
"Of course, baby. I bet you're tired. You don't have to try so hard for the rest of the day."
It's awkward getting the diaper on them without a clean place to lie down, but you manage with them leaning against the wall.
The heavy, sodden pull-up get's bagged and tossed in the trash can. Nicky's pants are in another bag, shoved deep in their backpack. They have to put their shoes back on without socks. You make a mental note to add a pair to their bag.
Nicky whines when you pull their thumb out of their mouth but is consoled with the promise of getting their pacifier once you're home.
On the bus ride home they're nearly asleep on your shoulder. You're coming down from the adrenaline of racing across campus and can feel the imminent crash brewing. A nap for the both of you is certainly due.
"Tomorrow," you say, guiding Nicky into the bedroom, "we get different keychains for our bags."
Greetings moot I know you've posted about it before but I need to know what your ideal itinerary would look like at an abdl summer camp
Ohhhhhh good golly
That’s a VERY open ended question.
I mean, the ideal itinerary would be a week long, six night camp. Obviously, there’d be things that folks enjoy! A lake for swimming and canoeing [maybe with cabin races, or even better, a cardboard canoe race! (In another life, I was pre-engineering… we didn’t win)]. Archery, a rock wall, bushcraft, backpacking, and maybe even some naturalist type classes (learning what you can and cannot eat in the woods would be a blast!). Maybe birdwatching would be fun!
But… there’d obviously also be some more “adult” parts of the summer camp, too. There’d have to be some kind of system to indicate what you’re down for what and what you’re not, but I can see a group of kinksters in the woods having a lot of fun. Someone from the bedwetter cabin being teased and humiliated for their yellow sheets (and loving every second of it). Someone getting chased though the woods and taken advantage of against a tree (and admiring the view!). Even something as simple as that “I know we shouldn’t but how can we not??”, frantic, quiet messing around while the councilor is “asleep” in their bunk
The possibilities are as endless as the imagination of the perverse, which is to say unlimited 😌
“Just changed you x amount of time ago and you’re already wet again?”
“You’re such a little baby, sitting in your wet diaper.”
“You don’t have potty privileges. You can sit right there in your diaper and go potty like the baby you are.”
“Show Mommy/Daddy how wet you are baby. Knowing you, I’m sure you’re not dry. You never are for long.”
“No you’re not allowed to change. You’re just a baby. You’re not to be concerned about your little diapies. That’s Mommy’s/Daddy’s job.”
“Time for a diaper check baby. I don’t care if you didn’t go. You’re too little to be able to check on your own.”
“Go put on a diaper, then you can potty. No toilet for my little baby.”
“You’re so fucking wet and you love it don’t you?”
“Put some panties on over that wet diaper. I want every inch of that pressed against you so you don’t forget what a little baby you are.”
“Piss yourself for me, like my little baby.”
“Tell me how much of a baby you are while you press that wet diapie against yourself.”
“Mommy/Daddy is going to go potty in the toilet while you sit there in your little wet diapie like a proper baby.”
“Oh you want to be sassy? There’s goes your opportunity for a change. That’s another hour for you. I don’t care if you leak.”
“Let’s see how much those can hold. I’m sure Mommy/Daddy’s little one can fill those up in no time.”
“No big boy/girl panties today. I think today will be a no potty privileges day for my baby. “
“You’re not a baby? Why don’t you say that to me again but this time press on that soaking diaper between your legs.”
“Aww you leaked? That’s okie sweetheart that’s what happens to babies that can’t control when they potty.”
“You wanna use the big kid potty? Alright go sit on it but keep that diapie on. You can pretend you’re a big kid. Oh no, that’s not what you meant? I don’t care. Go. Now.”
“Go sit on the potty with your diaper on baby. Mommy/Daddy wants to see you try to go like a big kid. Your diaper will hold up, don’t worry.”
“Go put on a diaper. I don’t trust you to keep those pants clean. You’re just a baby after all.”
“Aw sweetie did you have an accident in your diapie? Such a good boy/girl for Mommy/Daddy.”
“That diaper is sagging something fierce baby. Good. Now you look like the baby you are. Sit down.”
“Since you like to not do what you’re told so much, why don’t you just go and pee your little pants. Show me how much of a big kid you are without your diapers.”
“If you don’t want to listen, you can put a fresh diapie on over that one. Then we will see how much you feel like being bratty, hm?”
“I want that diaper thicker. My baby is such a little potty pants, we have to make sure you’re properly protected.”
“You can’t walk properly? Good. You can crawl.”
“You’re squishy? Aw darling that means your diapers are working well.”
“My baby had an accident? Aw aren’t you glad Mommy/Daddy knew enough to put you in diapers?”
“Today is diaper day. No excuses or negotiation.”
“Look at my baby trying to be all tough when you’re sitting there in a soaked diaper. You’re cute when you try to be all big.”
“It’s little time. Diaper on, and pacifier in until Mommy/Daddy says. You talk with it in and you ask permission to take it out.”
“I said keep your paci in. Ten minutes humping that soaking little diaper of yours. Maybe that will teach you to listen to Mommy/Daddy.”
“I think you need a reminder of who owns that cute little tushy. Diapered and in the corner. Time out time. Don’t worry, your diapie will catch all your accidents”
“Yes sweetie, you look very big in those big kid undies. Now stop playing dress up and lets get you in a diaper.”
“Are you trying to hide that you’re wet? Oh silly, Mommy/Daddy already knew you were. Why do you think we asked for a diaper check?”
“I know you’re wet. The question is, how wet?”
“Lay on your tummy baby, and keep your paci in. You need some tummy time.”
“I love my little potty prince/princess.”
“You look so good with that paci in your mouth, why did I ever let you take it out?”
“Is my baby fussy? That’s get that little rush changed and down for a nap. No, you don’t get a choice.”
Hc: Rumi wets the bed when she's overworking herself and/or anxious, which means it happens kind of a lot.
Mira and Zoey give her space to deal with it without making her admit it openly but Mira also notices how tired Rumi looks and how much of a strain it is for her to keep it 'secret'. She wants to let Rumi know that it's ok, they know- she can do her laundry openly rather than doing it secretly at night, she can come get into one of their beds rather than having to fully remake her own at 2am, she can borrow Mira's pajamas rather than getting fully dressed for the day in the middle of the night just because she has nothing to change into, she can buy protection to wear if she wants without having to be scared they'll see.
She tries to bring it up with Rumi- very, very gently- but of course Rumi lashes out in panic because she is Not ready to accept that the others know and denies everything.
Mira has already faux-casually shared some stuff about her less-than-happy childhood, hoping it will make Rumi more open, but instead, it just ends up being used by Rumi to make Mira back off.
'Oh my god just because you pissed the bed until you were a teenager it doesn't mean you need to project that onto everyone else!'
Mira backs off, kind of hurt and just also recognising that things are best left alone for a bit....and Rumi collapses into a spiral of guilt in her own room for pushing away the first person in her life to try to help and comfort her.
One of my biggest fantasies is to have someone force me to pee myself then use that as a reason to punish me.
I want them to lock my belt over my jeans. Making sure there is absolutely no way I could possibly pull them down. Feed me too many drinks and be mean to me about how much I’m squirming. Be so condescending about it. “Baby, why are you wiggling so much? Oh you have to pee? Someone your age should be able to hold it. Now sit still.”
I’ll hold on as long as possible before I have a genuine accident. My body will make the decision for me, even if I was still trying to be good and hold. I want them to laugh in my face. Let me know that “if I want to act like a baby, they will treat me like one.”
Force me into a diaper as I cry and protest that it’s not fair. That they caused me to have an accident. Make me finally admit to it in the most embarrassing way possible that I chose to pee myself because I like it. Make me wear the diaper for the rest of the day, constantly feeding me water still and mocking me. My bladder would already be so weak from my earlier accident that I would have another one in my diaper. Make fun of me for that and use it as proof that I really am just a stupid slut who needs someone to control her. Make me admit that I’m your toy and can’t even control when and where I go pee.
Exciting new developments in the training pants space!!
Okay, so if you've seen my review about Hanes Period Underwear, then you already know that Hanes uses the EXACT same material and exact same construction for their potty training pants, meaning that their period underwear functions exactly the same as training pants.
(aka, good for small leaks, no more than a quarter of one's bladder)
But NOW they have introduced a BRAND NEW PRODUCT IN THE ARENA:
Hanes Confident Nights Underwear! Available in girls AND boys sizing!!!
For comparison's sake, here's some of the girls' and women's period underwear and their size chart:
As you can see, the women's sizes go up to a 3XL, but the trade off is that they only come in neutrals instead of fun colors.
There is however overlap between the smallest women's sizes and the largest boys' and girls' sizes! I personally wear a women's size 6 in pants, which would be a small/5 in Hanes' women undies; however! I fit perfectly into the girls' size 14! So, following the chart, if you'd fit into a women's medium, you'd fit into the girls' size 18! (and, presumably, the boys' size 16-18)!
So what's the big deal?
Hanes training pants and their period pants both only offer zoned protection, meaning that the absorbent area only wraps around just barely to the front and only partially to the back - it covers what it needs to, and not anything more.
These brand new confident nights undies however, their padding extends all the way to just under the waistbands!!! AKA wayyyy better protection than their actual toddler training pants!! (though, it seems that they also launched these in toddler sizing, probably bc they realized this)
Oh! If you think you'd prefer something more similar to boxer briefs, there's some available in the "period pants" style (reviews for the women's say that as long as you pay attention to the size chart, they'll fit regardless of your anatomy)
Anyway, I think these are AMAZING alternatives to pull-ups, for those who'd rather have actual, genuine training pants instead! Good for feeling snug and protected, without the need for excess bulk that others can notice. (tho, if you're in a completely silent room, if you move you can hear a very very faint swish of the leak proof layer moving against the other fabric)
They're a very nice discrete, reusable option, as they're machine washable and can take a tumble in the dryer!!! First, if you do happen to "use" them, rinse them out in cold water first, toss them with the rest of your laundry for a cold wash, and when you transfer them to the dryer (low heat), make sure they're inside out so they dry properly!
Also also! As a bonus, if you happen to menstruate, you now have perfect cover to use literally any of these options because they're all basically the exact same product.
(Hanes themselves showing that they (trainers/period undies/confident nights) are all the same, lol)
WHICH, for masc!littles, means that you can opt for either the boxer briefs period underwear OR the boys confident nights underwear, and not only would you be well protected, but as a bonus, you now have big boy undies!!!
and for fem!littles, you can get gender and headspace happiness from buying period undies that you'll hopefully enjoy while in little space! Bc, congrats! you now have big girl undies!!!
and nb!littles always come out on top bc!! all the color options!!!! and fun styles!! big kid undies!!!
I hope that this discovery and info is as helpful for you all as it was for me!! ✨
Rumi getting incredibly full and wriggly during a signing: she's normally SO careful to go before they start bc theyre so long except this time she must've forgotten and it's getting Bad, she's squirming all over, having to cross her legs and bounce, desperately trying so hard to hold it and so embarassed because she can tell the fans know she needs to go and mira and zoey keep glancing at her and bobby is watching her and she is terrified the whole time that she's going to lose it-
Finally it finishes and she gets up carefully as she can and clutches herself as she tries to find a bathroom, sure any second that she's going to wet because she needs to go SO bad and she can feel she's leaked a bit and any second now-
And finally she makes it, slams the door, rips off her clothes, and she's made it, she can let go and it's all ok, she's not had an accident, she's not ruined the signing, she can just let it all go-
And then Rumi's eyes shoot open and she realises that not only has she been asleep in her seat in the plane but she's fully peeing, the sea cushions are soaked, her pants are soaked, she can't even stop going because she needed to go so bad even though she's clutching herself as hard as she can....
She did have an accident after all and she can feel tears pricking her eyes as she glances over to where Zoey and Mira are chatting casually because there's so way to hide this from them :(
- you CANNOT adjust clothing on stage, even during rehearsal, it’s one of the first things we’re taught. So imagine your costume has such a tight belt squeezing your bladder.. there’s nothing you can do to loosen it until you get a second off stage (that is.. if you don’t have a quick change or have to sprint to your next entrance..)
- I remember one time in an audition I was so close to wetting myself, honestly id never had to go that badly before. We were all sitting in the audition room, waiting for our number to be called (this was maybe an hour in, I’d been chugging water to calm my nerves) and I was kneeling on the floor trying my BEST not to squirm because the director was right there.
Anyway my number was one of the last to be called, and while I was waiting I truly thought ‘I’m either going to have to run out of this room and accept I won’t get a part, or I’ll have to hope I don’t leak visibly’. I had my heel under me, pressed on my pee hole, I was sweating and trying not to move. When my number was finally called I’m pretty sure I was leaking a little, but of course it’s an audition, you HAVE to give it everything. I sprinted to those toilets the second it was over.
- In one of the theatres I perform at most, the dressing rooms only have one toilet for the cast, and it’s forbidden to use the Main House toilets, do I’ve witnessed plenty of people running off stage, through the dressing rooms, shouting about how they’re about to wet themselves.
- on stage freezes. Absolutely golden. You can’t move a muscle, you can’t even blink, so imagine someone’s there, frozen in place, they can’t squirm or hold themselves or cross their legs. Maybe they’re slowly leaking, knowing nothing can be done to stop it. Maybe they’re shaking. They’re definitely thibking go the scene ahead, are there any moments they can subtly grab their crotch?
- someone subtly rubbing themselves against the set. One show I did, we had a huge metal frame structure to sit on. Someone with one of those metal poles between their legs, rocking on it slowly.
- directors often give notes after rehearsals, before anyone can leave. A bladder shy person, absolutely desperate to go for the whole rehearsal, which is often 6 hours with one 30 minute break. They’ve been drinking water for their voice all day, you get dehydrated during a physical rehearsal. They’ve been too scared to ask to run to the toilet, not in front of the directors, stage crew and entire cast, so theyve held it through sheer willpower.. but now, during notes that famously drag on.. theyre sweating and squirming. They want to cry. They’re rocking in their seat maybe, barely paying attention.. do they make it to the toilet? Can they stomach using the one in the dressing room?
- cast members are usually very close with each other, literally you do awkward scenes, change in the same room, youre together every day for weeks.. imagine all the ‘god I have to go right now’ ‘mate I’m not sure I’ll make it through the scene’
- watching a show?? They don’t let you leave for the toilet like you can in a cinema. But at least it’s dark, you can shove a habd between your legs and pray the lines aren’t too long at the interval…
rumi's bedwetting was seen as almost as shameful as her patterns and celine was very determined that no one should ever see either weakness.
the anxiety about someone finding out about either thing.....didnt exactly help rumi stay dry either.
when mira and zoey find out about rumis patterns, they end up at home after the award show events, all piled onto mira's bed and hugging and crying and talking, and for the first time ever, rumi ends up falling asleep with zoey and mira.
she wakes up to mira gently shaking her shoulder and murmuring that they need to get her some dry clothes-
the stress of it all hits her and she bursts into tears all over again but mira and zoey are so gentle and soothing, reassuring her that it doesnt matter and that they arent mad or anything.
once theyre all cleaned up, rumi wants to retreat to her own room in a flood of apologies but zoey and mira just follow her and insist no one is getting left alone.
rumi falls asleep again tucked between her girls and finally feeling lighter.
that is the softest most adorable thing ive ever read
poor rumi, shes so embarassed but i love how soft mira is- holding her hand , taking her to the bathroom, offering to come in, walking her to bed and kissing her forehead and ughhh i love this so much its my favourite thing and you write soft mira so beautifully! and zoey is so sweet and understanding- i love her!
The idea of someone "potty training" me and acting really sweet and nice but secretly making their goal to un-potty train me and slowly break me down into a baby is like my biggest fantasy... I have an accident and she's very insistent on it so I'm like, okay, whatever, I'll play along. I'm an adult with a functional bladder anyway, so it's not like I'll actually need to use these training underwear. And at least they're fabric ones, it's not like they're pull ups or diapers or anything.
She loads me up on water and juice and is taking me to the potty every 15 minutes before our road trip, so I'm "plenty hydrated, but can still get it all out before we get going!" I'm still allowed to use the big potty toilet, for now, as long as she walks me over and holds my hand while I go. I don't know what "rapid desperation" is, but I do end up peeing a little every time, since I've been drinking so much water and juice. And... the attention is nice. The way she says "good job, baby boy!" after every time I go makes my whole face red with embarrassment, but it also makes me feel really good. Like I did a good job and she's proud of me.
Then comes the road trip to our weekend getaway It's a short one, only 2 hours. Usually on a drive that short I wouldn't even need to think about the bathroom. But this time... Oh boy. I'm looking around frantically about halfway through, even though I know there are no rest stops nearby. I'm pressing my legs together as tightly as I can, trying not to show how badly I need to go. She clocks it right away, of course. "Do you need the potty?" She asks, sounding a little amused. My face goes red again.
"Nooo..." I say. I sound horribly unconvincing. Horribly unconvincing and small. That's not allowed, stop that. I straighten up in my seat. "I, uh. I could use the bathroom for sure. But, I think I can hold it?" Big voice. That's better.
(readmore bc this got Long!) sorry
"Are you sure?" She says, a knowing look on her face. "You look pretty tense. If you need to go, I brought a potty— it's in the trunk. I can pull over."
I shake my head. "I think I'll be fine. I should be good. Let's just focus on something else." I try to keep my eyes on the road.
About twenty minutes later, the urgency has only gotten worse, and I realize that I just leaked. We were listening to an episode of a podcast, something about dinosaurs, and it was making me laugh, and a little piss spurted out, I can feel the warmth of it and then the rapid cooling as the wet spot soaks into my training underwear. I frantically feel the front of my jeans. No wetness yet. But I need to go. The pressure is intense, I can feel it continuing to build up and I rock back and forth in my seat a little. "I really, really have to go," I admit with a whine.
"The potty's right back there, baby." She reminds me. "Want me to pull over? It's our last chance before we get into town."
I briefly consider it, but... I really don't want to use that potty, especially not on the side of the road where someone might drive by and see me. "No," I insist, although my confidence in my bladder is shrinking. "I think I'll be okay."
Twenty minutes later, I am not okay. I'm leaning forward in my seat with my head and arms resting on the dashboard, hunched over my bladder, trying desperately to keep everything in. I can't do it, I leak again. It's a big one this time. I don't even need to check to see if it's showing through the front of my pants, I know it is. I need to go, the strain on my bladder hurts. I let out a moan, muffled by my arms. "I need to go, I can't hold it, can you please pull over, please," I beg, even though I know the answer. We're in town now, so I can't do that, everyone would see, and I can't let go, because I'm in her car, so I have to hold it.
She puts a hand on my shoulder. "Just a little further, baby. Almost there."
When we get to the airbnb place, I almost lose it as soon as I step out of the car. I stagger towards the door, then freeze as I leak again, substantially. There's a huge wet patch halfway down my legs when I manage to get it to stop. I can't do words, it's too much. Luckily, she interprets what I need, and grabs the potty from the trunk and tugs me inside.
I don't even think about the potty or what it looks like. I'm grateful when she sets it on the floor behind me, and I shove my half-wet pants and the utterly soaked training underwear down to my ankles and sit down and piss, my stream audibly spraying the plastic. It feels like I'm going forever. It's a few moments before the relief kicks in, and I sigh as the tension slowly leaves my body along with the contents of my overfull bladder. I worry, irrationally, for a moment that I might overfill the potty. But it's an adult-sized one, and it has plenty of room.
As my flow peters off, the stream going from a spray to a stream to a dribble, I can see the situation more clearly and I begin to realize how embarrassing it is. I'm sitting on the potty, a white plastic thing adorned with primary colors, and my cold, soggy pants and training undies are down around my ankles. I "made it," sure, technically, but I only made it to the plastic training potty right in front of the door, and I sure leaked a substantial amount— my pants are soaked. I shamefully wipe myself, although my legs are damp with piss too. I'll need a shower if I don't want to get a rash.
I stand up, trying to decide what to do about my wet pants. I know I shouldn't just walk upstairs with my pants around my ankles, but I'm not asking her to get new pants for me, that would be rude. But I can't make myself pull the cold wet pants up, or take my shoes off, they're wet and yucky too, so I can get the pants off.
It's all just a little too much, and to my further embarrassment, I start to cry. I'm trying not to, so it's quiet. But I can feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. I sit back down on the potty. I'm sure she's going to hate me. She's been watching from afar, but now she comes closer.
"What's wrong, honey?" She asks. Her voice is soft. I can't get the words out at first, but she's patient. She puts her hands on my shoulders. I hold onto them.
"I, it's yucky, I'm yucky," I manage to get out before the crying starts again and cuts me off. I just wanna get clean and dry but I'm not sure how to make that happen at the moment, I'm crazy overstimulated and embarrassed and regressed, which I've never done around her, I shouldn't let myself, but I can't make myself be big right now, it's just not happening.
"Okay, baby. Want me to make it better?" She asks.
She's... not mad? I nod. I need her to make it better, I need her help. She begins undoing my shoes, and I start crying again, because they're yucky and she's so nice and she shouldn't have to touch them just to help a stupid baby like me. But she does, and takes them off, then slips my wet pants off as well. Then, she offers me her hand, and I take it, and follow her upstairs wordlessly. She's murmuring little encouragements to me.
We get to the bathroom, and I wait for her to turn on the shower, or to leave me to do it, but she starts a bath, instead. And she puts bubbles in it. Then she takes my shirt off and tells me to get in, so I do.
The water is warm and comfy and it immediately washes away the drying pee that was starting to get a little itchy on my legs. And she brought me a bath toy, the kind that suctions onto the wall and you can pour water in and watch it go through different little sections, along with cups in bright primary colors to pour the water. I reach for it, then hesitate. I'm not supposed to be little, it's already too much for me to be accepting the bath like this. She smiles. "Can you help me out? I need someone to please pour some water in the toy for me. I want to make sure it works."
I nod. I can do that. I am a good helper. I take the little blue cup on the rim of the tub and diligently pour a cupful of bath water into the toy. It dribbles down and makes the sections spin. I smile. It's cool! I pour another cup, then another, forgetting myself and my reservations entirely. I like the bath.
She watches me play, and joins in with the yellow cup, splashing me occasionally. I giggle. Eventually, the tub starts to get cold, and I'm getting a little hungry and sleepy. She pulls the plug and allllll the water goes down the drain. Bye bye bath time.
I step out and dry off. She gets me dressed in some comfy pajamas and then we go downstairs and eat the dinner we packed for tonight. I'm so sleepy after the ordeal of the day. I normally would have slept on the drive over, but I didn't due to my desperation.
I use the bathroom, again with her supervision, and then I'm ready for bed. I'm about to climb in under the covers when she stops me. "Baby, one second."
I stop, yawning. "What's up?"
She's holding something in her hands. I squint. Is that a diaper? "Is that a diaper?" I ask, out loud, realizing I've just been standing there staring.
"No, no," she reassures me. "It's just a nighttime pull-up. Just for tonight, you know? I know you ended up making it to the potty today, but you still left quite a mess. And I had to clean it up, you know."
"I'm so sorry!" I exclaim, crestfallen. I hadn't even thought about the dribbles I must have left on my way to the potty, or my soaked pants and shoes, or anything. She had cleaned them up and not even said a word. Guilt lodges itself in my stomach. "You didn't have to do that, I really am sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you, somehow. Is there anything I can do?"
"Yes, there is." She says, putting it simply. "You can wear one of these tonight." She waggles the nighttime pull-up up and down with her hands. "That way, we can guarantee there are no more accidents. Is that okay with you?"
I nod, my face going red again. I don't want to, but... I do want to make it up to her. So I put it on, and we both go to bed.
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