    IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY
    =====================

    	First of all, let me introduce myself. My name is Mark Madsen
    and I'm eleven years old. I'm a pretty normal guy. I live with my
    mom, dad and little sister. I have a dog and cat. I play baseball
    in the spring and soccer in the fall. I'm in the fifth grade,
    since I started Kindergarten a year later than everyone else. I'm
    not the most popular guy in my school, but I have some friends.
    	If you saw me playing in the street with my friends, you
    would probably think that I was a perfectly normal kid. However,
    there is one secret I have that makes me really strange. I still
    wear diapers!
    	I mean, I not only wear diapers at night; I wear them during
    the day as well. I don't wear diapers every day, but my mom makes
    me wear them whenever I have a lot of accidents. We have a system.
    Sometimes I get to wear underwear, but if I have an accident I
    have to wear Pull Ups. I can get my underwear back, if I go three
    days without an accident. If I have an accident in my Pull Ups, I
    have to wear diapers the next day.
    	There are a lot of reasons that I still use diapers and we
    aren't really sure why I still have accidents. I guess I still
    need them, since I do have a lot of accidents. My mom thinks
    diapers are easier than doing extra laundry, so that's why I wear
    them at night. Diapers also keep me from embarrassing myself in
    front of my friends. Sure, I don't want my friends to find out
    that I'm wearing diapers, but I also don't want them to see me wet
    my pants in front of them. My friends don't have to know I'm in
    diapers and don't find out when I have an accident.
    	There is another reason that I still wear diapers and you
    can't tell anybody else. This is the part that makes me really
    strange, but I don't care. Truth is; I like them. I like
    everything about them. I like the extra attention I get from my
    parents when they are changing my diaper. My dad works long hours
    and I don't get to see much during the day. He is the one who
    changes my diaper before bed and that's the time we can talk about
    our day. It is our special time together and I wouldn't want to
    change that. I also like it when my mom changes me, because I feel
    so safe. I also like the way diapers feel between my legs. I
    usually wear cloth diapers at home and they are really thick. The
    thick cloth makes me waddle like a little kid and I like that. I
    wear disposable diapers when I'm not home and they feel really
    cool as well. Sometimes they really crinkle and that makes me feel
    all funny inside. Diapers make me feel all warm and fuzzy and I
    love it when I have to wear them.
    	It didn't use to be that way. When I was younger, I was like
    every other kid. My little sister, Heather, was potty trained just
    about the time I turned eight. I'm four and a half years older
    than she is, so I should have potty trained before she was born,
    but I still wore Pull Ups when Heather started to potty train.
    Sometime I even wear diapers during the day. My mom used to put me
    in diapers when we were going to out all day long and she knew I
    would have a lot of accidents. She figured as long as she needed
    to bring diapers for Heather; she might as well keep me in
    diapers. We went to Great America on my eighth birthday and I had
    to wear diapers the whole day.
    	I hated wearing diapers and cried when my mom made me wear
    them on my birthday. I thought I was now a big kid and diapers
    made me feel like a baby. I didn't like wearing Pull Ups either,
    but at least I could change my own Pull Ups. My mom had to change
    my diapers and I hated it. I couldn't wait until I was dry and no
    longer needed to wear those babyish diapers.
    	Once Heather was potty trained, I quit wearing diapers during
    the day. There was no way I would let my mom put a diaper on me,
    if my little sister wasn't wearing one. Heather would wear Pull
    Ups when we went out in September, so I wore them as well. Heather
    quit wearing Pull Ups in October, so I didn't have to wear those
    either.
    	We only wore Pull Ups two more times after October. Both
    Heather and I wore Pull Ups when we went Trick-or-Treating on
    Halloween. At the end of the night, Heather's Pull Up was still
    dry, but mine was very wet. We also had to wear Pull Ups for a
    week after Christmas. We went up to a cabin in the mountains and
    mom made us wear Pull Ups the entire week. I think my mom wanted
    me to wear Pull Ups and only made Heather wear them to keep me
    happy. Heather had a few accidents leading up to Christmas, but
    not enough to justify the Pull Ups.
    	By the end of the week it was obvious that Heather really
    didn't need Pull Ups and I did. She only had one accident all week
    and only wet her bed once. I had twelve accidents during the week
    and wet my bed every single night.
    	A few weeks later mom let Heather sleep in her panties for
    the first time. We were using cloth diapers before then and I
    demanded to sleep in my underwear as well. My mom initially wanted
    me to stay in diapers, but decided to let me wear underwear. I
    naively thought that I would stop wetting the bed when I stopped
    wearing diapers, but soon found out differently.
    	The next few months were miserable, because I hated waking up
    in soggy wet beds. I wet my bed several times each night and
    always woke up in pee-soaked sheets. I was always cold and tired.
    My mom made sure I took a bath each morning, because she knew I
    would smell if I didn't. I was eight years old and hated taking
    baths. I resented having to take them in the morning, especially
    since I had to take on at night as well.
    	We tried to contain the smell from my room, but it began to
    smell any way. I couldn't smell it, but other kids could. I had
    friends come over and they would say, "It smells like pee." I also
    had the plastic sheet on my bed, which crinkled when they sat on
    it. One friend asked if I still wet my bed, but I lied. I told him
    my little sister sometimes took her nap on my bed and she still
    wet her bed.
    	It is a good thing that Heather didn't hear me, because she
    would have called me, "Pee pee pants." My mom tried hard to keep
    Heather from teasing me, but Heather thought it was funny that I
    still wet and pooped my pants. My mom would get frustrated when I
    had an accident and Heather always said, "You should make him wear
    baby pants." Heather had a doll that wet her pants. She cut her
    hair and called him Mark. She even tried to potty train her doll;
    pretended it was me.
    	Heather virtually stopped having accidents after January. She
    may have wet her bed once or twice, but I don't remember her
    having any accidents. I, of course, had a lot of accidents. Along
    with wetting my bed each and every night, I wet my pants at least
    every week. I also had a weekly messy accident, which further
    complicated matters.
    	Mom never really demanded that I wear diapers or Pull Ups,
    but the option was always there. If we were going out for the day,
    she would say, "You know, you can wear Pull Ups today." I would
    immediately protest that I wasn't a baby and then throw a fit when
    I had an accident.
    	We really didn't do that much that spring, which was unusual
    for us. We usually tried to do something exciting at least once a
    month, but I don't remember doing anything that Spring at all. I
    think we went skiing once, but that was probably it. Mom and dad
    were really busy, but I think my problems added to it. It just
    wasn't worth the trouble, since I always had accidents.
    	Finally after school ended we went to Disneyland for four
    days. Mom wanted me to wear Pull Ups on the trip, but I refused. I
    asked if Heather was going to wear them and mom said, "No, she
    doesn't need them."
    	"Then I don't need them either," I said in a real snotty
    tone.
    	Mom had heard it all before and said "I just don't want you
    to have an accident. Don't come crying to me if you wet your pants
    at Disneyland."
    	Well, to make a long story short, I did wet my pants at
    Disneyland. Several times in fact. I had two accidents on the trip
    to Los Angeles and two more accidents the first day at Disneyland.
    I had another one later that night, which caused dad to bring out
    the Pull Ups. They demanded that I wear them and said I would
    spend the rest of the week at the hotel if I didn't. I reluctantly
    put the Pull Ups on and went about my business.
    	The Pull Ups turned to be a godsend, since I ended up using
    the full package. I wet the very last Pull Up in the package on
    the ride home and slept that night in my underwear. I pretended to
    hate them, because that's what I thought my parents wanted. I
    complained that the Pull Ups made me feel like a baby, but mom
    wouldn't hear of it. She said, "If you would just use the potty,
    you wouldn't have to wear them." In reality, I didn't think they
    were that bad. I kind of liked waking up in a dry bed and not
    having to worry about accidents.
    	The next trip we took was to Wisconsin for my cousin's
    wedding. This was the first of my cousins to get married and I
    thought it was really cool to go to a wedding. I loved the idea of
    flying in an airplane and going to another part of the country. I
    had been to Wisconsin before, but I was really young. I didn't
    really remember much about it, since I was only about five years
    old.
    	A few days before we left mom told me I was going to have to
    wear Pull Ups when we went to Wisconsin. I first tried to protest
    my way out of it (but not that hard), but mom didn't want to hear
    any of it. Then I asked, "Do I have to wear them during the day,
    or is it just at night?"
    	"Well, the night mainly, but I want to you wear them on the
    plane and wedding. Now that I think about, I think you probably
    should just wear them all the time. We really don't want to worry
    about accidents while we are there."
    	The idea of having to wear a babyish Pull Up in front of my
    cousins was worse than could be imagined, but not as bad as the
    truth. We didn't have any Pull Ups left, since I had used the last
    pair at Disneyland. Dad went to the store to buy some more, but
    came back with something different.
    	I could tell that they weren't Pull Ups when he came in, but
    had no idea what they might be. Pull Ups have a dark blue package,
    but I could only see the top of a teal package sticking out, with
    a large P on it. At first I thought it was a new package for Pull
    Ups and just ignored it. It was a few hours before bedtime and I
    wanted to put off the Pull Ups as long as possible.
    	I was just outside of the living room when dad came in and he
    didn't see me. Dad said, "They didn't have XL Pull Ups, but I got
    something that might work better."
    	"What?" mom asked.
    	"Pampers has a new size six, which should fit Mark fine."
    	"Do you think he's going to allow us to put a diaper on him?"
    	"Well, he better. I don't want to go through another trip
    like Disneyland. Besides, it might teach him a lesson."
    	I couldn't believe my ears. My dad was going to make me wear
    diapers, just like a little baby. I didn't know what to do. I
    spent the rest of the day trying to figure out how to get out of
    this, but I couldn't think of anything.
    	Eventually the moment of truth came. It was just a little bit
    after we finished dinner and my parents finished packing for the
    trip. I could feel the tension in their faces, as they tried to
    find the best time to tell me. Mom and dad didn't know that I knew
    about the Pampers and tried to let me go about my business.
    	Mom asked me to pack my own bag for the trip and we were
    going through the bags making sure that I didn't forget anything.
    We were also taking stuff out that I didn't need.
    	"Honey, you don't need to bring seven T-shirts. Let's only
    take three and then we'll wash them while we are there."
    	I packed some underwear, even though we had already agreed
    that I would wear Pull Ups. I just wanted to slip the underwear in
    my bag and wear them instead. As mom was going through my bags, I
    could tell she was leaving the underwear till last. She went
    through and made sure I had some good socks and a toothbrush. It
    didn't take that long and we finally hit my underwear.
    	"Honey, we already told you that you're not wearing underwear
    on this trip. We don't want any accidents." I knew what was
    coming, but still wasn't prepared. Mom didn't sugarcoat it at all.
    She just blurted out "You're going to have to wear diapers this
    time."
    	"Diapers?" I whined.
    	"Yes, you are going to wear diapers. We are going to be in a
    hotel and can only do laundry one time. We can't have you having
    accidents and ruining your clothes."
    	"But I'm not a baby."
    	"Honey, we've been through this already. I know you aren't a
    baby and wearing diapers isn't going to change that. You know you
    have accidents and wet the bed. What happens if you sleep on the
    plane?"
    	I hadn't thought about it and didn't want to have an accident
    on the plane. I decided to ask about the Pull Ups. "Why can't I
    wear Pull Ups?"
    	"The store was out of them when daddy was there. Besides,
    these are better. Pull Ups always leak."
    	"But diapers are for babies."
    	"Not these. They are bigger, for kids."
    	I resigned myself to wearing diapers and decided to see if I
    could get Heather in them as well. I figured it wouldn't be as bad
    if Heather had them also. I didn't want to wear diapers when my
    four year old sister wore panties. "What about Heather?"
    	"Heather doesn't need diapers. She's using the potty every
    time now, even at night. You still need them, because you have
    accidents. You peed your pants two times yesterday." Mom was
    getting more direct with me as the year moved on. "Go take your
    bath and then we will get you ready for bed."
    	I quit fighting and took my bath like a good little boy. I
    tried to take as long as possible in the tub, since I knew what
    was coming after I got out. I take showers now, but back then I
    took baths. Sometimes I wish I still took baths, since they are
    more fun. That time I played with all my toys and spent almost
    thirty minutes in the tub. I finally got out when mom told me I
    had to leave.
    	I got out of the tub and dried myself off. I walked in my
    bedroom and mom was waiting for me. She had the diapers and was
    ready to put them on me. That's the biggest difference between
    Pull Ups and diapers. Pull Ups feel just like a diaper when I have
    them on, but I can put them on myself. My parents have to put the
    diapers on me.
    	Mom told me to get on the floor and I followed her
    directions. The first thing mom did was rub lotion up and down my
    legs. I hadn't worn diapers for seven months and forgot how much I
    liked the attention mom gave me. After the lotion, she put some
    Vaseline on my bottom. Then she placed the diaper under my legs
    and pulled up to my stomach. She taped the diaper up and then
    helped me into my pajamas. The pajamas covered my diaper, but you
    could see the bulge. I walked back into the living room and could
    hear the diaper crinkle each step.
    	I wondered what Heather would say, but fortunately she was
    already asleep. I didn't have to worry about her till the next
    morning, which came soon enough.
    	I prayed that I would stay dry that night. I hoped that if I
    was dry in the morning, mom wouldn't make me wear them during the
    day. My hopes dashed away when I woke up. My diaper was soaked! It
    didn't leak, but it was close. I wondered what mom would say, but
    she just laughed. "Good thing you had the diaper on, you would
    have really soaked the bed last night."
    	The strange part came when she took off my soggy diaper. I
    was used to wearing diapers at night, but rarely had to wear them
    during the day. I hadn't worn a diaper during the day since my
    birthday and it felt strange when mom placed a fresh diaper
    underneath my legs after cleaning me up. I suddenly realized that
    I was going to wear diapers all day long for the next week.

    Part 2

    	At first I didn't feel strange in diapers. It had been a long
    time since I had worn them, but I still knew what they felt like.
    Diapers didn't feel that much different from Pull Ups and it had
    only been a few weeks so I wore Pull Ups.
    	It wasn't until Heather got up from the table that I felt
    strange. I looked at Heather and it was obvious (at least to me)
    that she didn't have a diaper on. She had a nice sun dress that
    dropped to her knees, but when she leaned down I could see her
    panties. I suddenly felt the bulk between my legs and squirmed to
    get comfortable. When I did, I heard my diaper rustle. It was only
    a faint sound that no one else could hear, but I was sure everyone
    could hear it. I looked around to see if anyone noticed, but
    nobody turned. Then I saw the diaper bag on the counter.
    	The diaper bag was common site in our home, especially when
    we were going out for the day. Mom put a lot of our extras in the
    diaper bag. I never cared when mom carried the diaper bag, because
    Heather needed it as well. It didn't look that strange, since
    Heather was still young enough for diapers. This time I realized
    that it was for me and only me. All those diapers were just
    because I needed them and I resented it. It wasn't a really
    babyish diaper bag. It was powder blue with white clouds. It was
    pretty obviously a diaper bag, but most people think mom carries
    it as her "mother's bag" just to keep all the extra stuff that she
    needs for Heather and me.
    	I began to pout, but no one noticed. I just sulked and kept
    quiet. One of our neighbors drove us to the airport and Heather
    and I sat in the back of her van. Heather was excited about the
    trip and airplane flight, but I didn't care. I just kept thinking
    about the diapers I had on and how mad I was at my mom. I wanted
    to punish her for making me wear diapers, but didn't know how.
    Suddenly I had to fart and realized how I could punish her. I
    concentrated really hard and tried poo my diaper. I wanted to lay
    the messiest turd I could in my diaper and wanted to be the
    stickiest crap I've ever taken. I really didn't need to poop, but
    eventually I got something in my diaper. I mostly peed, since I
    was straining so much, but there was some fecal matter in there.
    	I was satisfied with my work, although I wished it was
    messier. I hoped to get diarrhea and then I could really punish my
    mom. At first no one noticed what I had done. The turd was firm
    and didn't smell a whole lot. At first I couldn't even smell it,
    but then I got whiff. It smelled like a really bad fart.
    	It didn't take long for Heather to smell it and she cried out
    "Mommy, Mark farted."
    	We opened the windows, but it didn't help much. Mom waited a
    few more minutes and then asked, "Honey, did you poop your
    diaper?"
    	I gave my best apologetic "Yes."
    	Mom got a quizzical look on her face, since pooping wasn't
    really a problem for me. I rarely messed my pants anymore; I
    usually just wet myself. Even when I wore diapers, I was regular
    enough that we could plan on me pooping in the toilet. I normally
    didn't poo until the afternoon; so around two o'clock mom would
    take me to the bathroom to poop.
    	I think she knew that I did it on purpose, but she didn't act
    mad. "I guess I'll change it when we get to airport."
    	There were two people in the car who got this amazed look on
    their faces. The first was our neighbor, who knew my story. She
    knew me enough to know that I had accidents and knew about
    Disneyland. "I thought Mark was going to wear Pull Ups?"
    	"Well, Safeway didn't have the XL size, but they had a
    special on the new Pampers. We got those instead."
    	Heather, on the other hand, had no idea that I would even
    wear Pull Ups. Heather didn't really understand how I could still
    have potty accidents when she didn't anymore. When Heather was
    still in diapers, she and my mom went shopping with a neighbor
    girl and her mother. The girl was just a smidge over two, but had
    already potty trained. Heather watched as this girl used the potty
    all day long and received a lot of praise. Heather felt like a
    baby in her diapers and wanted to be a big girl. From that point
    on, she associated diapers with being a baby.
    	"Why is Mark a baby today?" She asked. She didn't mean to
    hurt me, but I felt the jibe hard.
    	"He isn't a baby. Mark is just wearing diapers because he
    might have accidents."
    	"But if he has accidents, then he is a baby."
    	"NO. Babies are babies because they are not old enough to be
    kids." Mom wanted to stop the conversation in its tracks, but it
    wasn't working. Heather didn't understand how I could wear diapers
    and not be a baby.
    	"So, boys are babies longer than girls."
    	"No honey, boys and girls are babies the same time."
    	"Then why is Mark a baby today?" Heather was totally serious
    and didn't wanted to know the answer.
    	"That's enough Heather Marie. Mark is not a baby, he just
    needs diapers." Heather wasn't very old, but she was old enough to
    know middle names are not a good thing to question. She stopped
    asking why I was a baby, but didn't understand how I could still
    be in diapers.
    	It took another twenty minutes to get to the airport. By then
    the smell had dissipated somewhat; mainly because the windows were
    open. Dad and Heather checked out bags at the curb and mom and I
    took care of my dirty diaper.
    	Mom had flown from the San Francisco Airport enough to know
    the best place to change my diaper was. She took me to a special
    family restroom designed specifically for families with small
    children. It wasn't the main bathroom, which was good. Both mom
    and dad had changed my diaper in bathrooms before and I always
    hated it. I was too big for the diaper changing table, unless it
    was a one of the cove type. We usually did it in the handicapped
    stall, but people always looked strangely when we walked out. Dad
    usually took me to the men's bathroom, since it was awkward for me
    to go in the ladies' bathroom.
    	The family bathrooms are by far the best place to change my
    diaper. Instead of being just a series of stalls, we walk into a
    hallway. Once in the hall way there are three private bathrooms
    about the size of a walk-in closet. Each has a toilet, a changing
    table and a sink. It offers us privacy, which is exactly what we
    need.
    	The poop stuck a little to my bottom and it took mom a little
    bit of time to get me clean. It took her about five minutes to
    change my diaper and I kept wondering what she was thinking. We
    didn't talk much during the change. Neither one of us felt like
    talking and we didn't know how to use conversation to alleviate
    the awkward situation of changing an older child's diaper. Now we
    begin to talk to each other and changes go by without knowing it.
    We can even joke about changing my diaper, which we couldn't do
    then. That time we just looked at each other awkwardly and it took
    for ever.
    	Mom finally changed my diaper and I walked to our gate. I
    don't think anyone could tell that I had a diaper underneath my
    pants, but I was very aware of it. I kept thinking people were
    looking at my puffy butt and laughing. I swear I heard people
    saying "Look at that kid! He's wearing a diaper!" Mom sensed that
    I was uncomfortable and calmly told me "No one sees a thing. Don't
    worry about it."
    	We arrived a little later than we wanted and we didn't have
    to wait long to board our plane. I was happy to get out of the
    watchful eyes of the public.
    	Our plane was a 767 and we had an entire middle row. I hate
    getting the middle of an airplane, since there is no window seat.
    You really have nothing to do but look at the middle of the
    airplane and that's boring. Unfortunately, we always get the
    middle row, since that works best for us. To make matters worse,
    mom and dad sat on the aisle, leaving Heather and me in the
    middle. That way, no child was away from a parent and it was easy
    to take us to the bathroom.
    	We started listening to our headphones and I quickly made
    myself home on the airplane. Mom must have brought 3,000 little
    books, puzzles and games for Heather and me on the plane, but I
    soon got bored of all of it. The flight to Chicago was a little
    over three hours and last two were dead boring. We got lunch on
    the plane and then we got the movie. I forgot what movie it was,
    but I didn't like. Finally the movie ended and we had another hour
    before we landed in Chicago.
    	I hadn't really flooded my diaper, but had slowly wet little
    bits into it as the flight wore on. By this time my diaper was
    getting wet and I started to feel it. The Pampers did a really
    good job holding all the wetness, but I needed a change. I tucked
    on mom's arm and pointed to my diaper.
    	"Is your diaper wet?" She asked.
    	"Yeah. Can you change it?" The idea of asking my mom to
    change my wet diaper didn't sound right, but I went with it.
    	"Do you think it will last till we reach Chicago?"
    	"I don't know."
    	"Well, let me check." Then she did something I didn't expect
    her to do. She stuck her fingers inside my pants and up against my
    wet diaper. "It's pretty wet. I better change it." She went to the
    overhead and pulled down my diaper bag. "I was hoping it would
    last till Chicago."
    	We walked to the galley and mom got the attention of one of
    the flight attendants. I felt like a little kid following his mom
    down the aisle, especially with the big diaper bag leading my way.
    Mom asked the flight attendant if there was a place to change a
    diaper. The stewardess said, "Well, there's a basin that you can
    use for a baby."
    	Mom pointed to me and embarrassingly said, "I think he's too
    big. Do have anyplace where I can change his diaper."
    	Mom told a complete stranger about my diapers, which really
    embarrassed me, but the stewardess didn't seem phased. She smiled
    and said, "Oh, we deal with that every once in awhile. There's a
    larger galley at the back of the plane that will work."
    	I proceeded with my walk of shame down the rest of the
    airplane. I felt like I should hold up a sign telling the entire
    plane that I was going to get my diaper changed. We reached the
    back of the plane and mom had to ask another flight attendant.
    	"I was told that I could change his diaper back here."
    	The flight attendant looked at my mom and said "Yeah, I
    guess. He can lie down right here, if you want."
    	This was a galley with a little wider gap. I lied on a towel
    right in the galley and mom proceeded to change me right there.
    This time we talked about the flight and the impending wedding of
    my cousin. It didn't seem nearly as bad as the last time; until we
    finished. Mom had just finished putting the diaper on me and was
    helping me get dressed. A passenger, older lady who was a bit
    large, accidentally opened the curtain. She saw me standing in my
    diaper and stood back.
    	She didn't say anything to us, but as we left she pointed at
    me and said "Imagine a boy that age in diapers!" It wasn't that
    loud, but loud enough for others to hear it. I noticed a few
    people turn to look at me. Some shook their heads and others gave
    us an awkward smile. I know now that it wasn't a big deal. Most
    people didn't even hear the comment and most of the people who
    heard it couldn't care less. Maybe one in ten would care and some
    of those cared because they were in diapers. The only people who
    think it's bad are jerks and I shouldn't care what they think.
    	At the time it was the absolute worse thing that could happen
    and I felt awful. I got back to my seat and did something I hadn't
    done in years. Without thinking I stuck my thumb in my mouth and
    began to suck on it. At first my mom didn't say anything, but then
    she pulled my thumb out my mouth. When I used to suck my thumb,
    she would make me suck on a pacifier. She felt the pacifier was
    better for my teeth and let me use that. I was five years old and
    still using a pacifier.
    	My thumb ventured back into my mouth again and she pulled it
    out again. This time she looked me sternly in the eye and said,
    "If you want to suck on something, I'll pull a pacifier out of the
    bag. Do you want a pacifier?"
    	The idea of sucking of a pacifier just made me feel more like
    a baby. I was sure everyone now thought I was an idiot and didn't
    want to give any further proof. I dejectedly said "No."
    	"Then keep your thumb out of your mouth, it's bad for your
    teeth."
    	I was feeling really low and tried to keep my thumb from my
    mouth. It was hard and before I knew it my hand was at my mouth. I
    soon began to suck on my knuckles, but I soon lodged my whole
    thumb into my mouth. I must have sucked on for a few minutes, but
    then mom went back into the diaper bag and pulled out a pacifier.
    Heather still used pacifiers when she was uncomfortable and was
    using one for her ears. Mom pulled out my thumb and handed me the
    pacifier. "Here, suck on this."
    	I put it in my mouth, but it wasn't the same. I took it out,
    but then felt uncomfortable and put the pacifier back in my mouth.
    I ended up getting comfortable with the pacifier in my mouth and
    kept there for the rest of the flight.
    	We got off the plane in Chicago and rented a car for the
    week. It was cheaper for us to rent a car in Chicago and drive to
    Oshkosh, than to fly directly to Oshkosh. We needed a car in
    Oshkosh anyway, so it made more sense to rent.
    	Just before we left the rental car lot, mom took Heather to
    the potty. I was still dry, but she decided to have me go with her
    as well. The three of us went into the ladies' bathroom and mom
    made sure we used the potty. She took off my diaper and had me sit
    on the toilet. She asked me to poop in the toilet, which took me a
    few minutes. I suddenly really felt like a little baby trying to
    poop for his mommy.
    	When I finally did my business, I lay back on the floor and
    she put my diaper back on. Heather was there the whole time
    watching and asking mom if she was a big girl.
    	"Am I big girl mommy?"
    	"Yes honey, you are."
    	"I'm a big girl because I wear big girl panties. Mark has
    baby pants, but I have big girl panties." Mom let Heather go a
    little bit before she stopped, which didn't do anything for my
    confidence.
    	Heather only weighed about thirty-seven pounds and still
    needed a car seat. We rented a car seat for her; fortunately I
    gained weight, or I would have need a car seat as well. A year
    earlier I weighed about forty-six pounds, but fortunately gained
    ten pounds that year. I didn't need a car seat and there wasn't
    one big enough for me.
    	Heather didn't mind the car seat, but didn't understand why I
    didn't get one. "Why doesn't Mark need a car seat?" She whined.
    	"Because he's bigger and can use a seat belt." Dad tried to
    explain the law to Heather, but Heather didn't want to hear it.
    	"But he's the baby, not me."
    	"Heather, I've told you to stop teasing your brother. Now
    stop it!" Mom was getting tired of Heather calling me the baby.
    	"I'm not a baby and if you don't stop calling me that I'm
    going to hit you."
    	Of all the violations in our family, hitting was the biggest.
    If I ever got in trouble, more often than not, it was because I
    hit Heather. Heather would call me a name (usually some form of
    baby) and I would get mad. She would keep calling me the name and
    I would hit her. She would cry and I got in trouble.
    	"Mark, there is no hitting! Now the two of you cool it, or
    you both will be in trouble."
    	It was happening again. I wasn't doing anything and I was
    going to get in trouble.
    	Heather had the last word. She got in her car seat and said
    "At least I use the potty like a big girl."
    	I desperately wanted to throw her as far as I could, but had
    to hold my tongue. I just sat there and pretended not to notice
    Heather.
    	It took us a little about two and half hours to drive from
    Chicago to my aunt Catherine's house, which was in Oshkosh. I
    flooded my diaper about an hour out of Chicago, but didn't say
    anything. I didn't want to admit that I had just soaked my diaper
    in front of Heather, so I pretended everything was fine. We were
    about a half hour from my aunt's house when Heather announced that
    she needed to potty.
    	"Number one, or two pumpkin?" My dad sweetly asked Heather.
    	"Number one."
    	"We are almost of Aunt Catherine's house. Can you hold it?"
    Dad didn't like stopping the car unless he had to.
    	"I think so. I'm a good holder." She was right; Heather could
    wait fairly long for a four year old.
    	"I know you are, honey." Dad seemed relieved that he wouldn't
    have to stop the car.
    	We were in the farm country and a few minutes later Heather
    let it be known that she had to go NOW! "Daddy, I really have to
    potty. Can we stop?"
    	Dad knew Heather well enough to know that if we didn't, she
    would have an accident. I kind of wish that she wouldn't have made
    it, but dad pulled off the highway and to an empty patch of
    country road. Heather jumped out of the car and did her business.
    While Heather was peeing on the side of the road, dad decided to
    change my diaper. Dad changed my diaper rather quickly and without
    the gentleness that mom did. I didn't really care, since it felt
    nice to be in a dry diaper.
    	We didn't have anyplace to throw away my soggy diaper, so mom
    kept it in a bag till we got to Aunt Catherine's. That's when the
    absolute worse thing that could happen, happened.
    	Aunt Catherine is my mom's youngest sister, about ten years
    younger than my mom. She was in her late twenties back then and
    not married. She was always one of my favorite aunt's, because we
    always had fun with. She was the aunt who would take us to the
    movies and didn't expect us to be good.
    	My mom's other sister, Aunt Beth, was my mom's older sister.
    This is the mother of the bride and about four years older than my
    mom. She already had kids when I was born and treated me like my
    mom did. It wasn't that I didn't like Aunt Beth, but I had more
    fun with Aunt Catherine.
    	We spent the night with Aunt Catherine, since Beth was busy
    preparing for the wedding. Aunt Catherine's house was small, but
    we had enough room for the five of us. Aunt Catherine was always
    peppy, but didn't have kids. As a result, she sometimes suffered
    from foot in mouth disease and this was one of those times.
    	We got out of the car and did the obligatory hugs. Once we
    finally greeted each other, mom went back to the car to get the
    bag that held my used diaper. It was in a white bag, but pretty
    obvious what was in the bag. That, along with diaper bag told Aunt
    Catherine that one of us was still in diapers. Aunt Catherine
    assumed that it was Heather, but was surprised that she would
    still need them. Heather was four and a half years old and getting
    a little old for diapers. We hadn't spent enough time together to
    know that I still wet my bed. "Heather! A big girl like you still
    needing diapers!"
    	The words came out of Catherine's mouth before she could even
    stop them, or mom could cushion the blow. Heather's response was
    almost as fast.
    	Heather was extremely proud of her big girl panties, since
    she had worked so hard to get them. She didn't want to lose face
    to her favorite aunt and said, "Those aren't for me. Mark's the
    one in baby pants. I wear big girl panties." She pulled up her
    dress and said, "See!"
    	Aunt Catherine was stunned and we didn't know quite what to
    say. She turned to my mom and said, "Is this true?"
    	"Yes, it is. Mark wets the bed and has been having accidents.
    He's been having enough that we decided to keep him in diapers for
    this trip and hopefully we will be able to start again when we get
    back."
    	I wanted to find someplace to hide. There I was right in
    front of my favorite aunt and she just found out that I needed a
    diaper. I tried to run away, but my feet wouldn't move. I wondered
    what Aunt Beth was thinking and what the next week was going to be
    like. I had visions of my aunts and cousins all taking their turns
    changing and feeding me. I was sure that I was going to be the
    family baby.
    	There was an awkward moment right after mom told her sister
    that it was my diaper. I think mom wished she could have taken
    back what she just said and I wanted to kill her for saying. Aunt
    Catherine wished the whole thing could start over again and she
    pretended like the diaper didn't exist.
    	Aunt Catherine finally broke the silence with a very forced
    "Just like Ron." Ron was my mom's brother. He was just a few years
    younger than my mom and about seven years older than Aunt
    Catherine.
    	We spent more time with my uncle Ron's family, since our
    families were close to the same age. He has two kids; just like
    us. Ryan is a year younger than me and had just turned eight a few
    days before the wedding. The girl was Rachel and she is only two
    months older than Heather. Rachel and Heather are almost twins;
    they even look alike.
    	At the time I didn't pay any attention to Aunt Catherine's
    side note. I became catatonic and barely heard what she said. I
    don't think I even knew whom she was talking about, since I always
    called him Uncle Ron.
    	The rest of the night was really uncomfortable. Mom felt
    guilty about what she said, but also realized that there was
    nothing that she could do about it. She spilled the milk and now
    we had to clean it up. Aunt Catherine didn't know what to say to
    me and just pretended like nothing happened. She asked me about
    school and what I liked doing. She tried anything to keep the
    topic off my diapers.
    	Fortunately I didn't need a change until it was time for bed.
    My diaper was wet, but not enough to justify changing. When it was
    time for bed, mom took me into the guest room and removed the damp
    diaper I had on. I was right in between the age when I stopped
    taking baths and started taking showers. I actually preferred
    taking a bath, since I could play in the tub, but showers were
    cooler. Showers always made me feel older, so given the option I
    always took showers. Mom gave me the option that night and I
    quickly choose a shower. I needed something to make me feel like a
    big boy and the only thing I could do was take a shower.
    	After my shower, I walked back into the guest room and lied
    on the bed. Mom put another diaper on me and then helped me into
    my pajamas. Mom was getting pretty good at changing my diaper by
    then, since she had already changed four diapers that day. She
    tried to apologize about telling Aunt Catherine, but I wasn't
    ready to hear it.
    	Heather and I slept in the living room, on a pair of special
    air mattresses that Aunt Catherine had for guest. She laid them
    out right on the floor and then made our beds. Then she did
    something really cool. She put a big blanket over two chairs and
    made a tent over both of our mattresses. Heather and I both
    thought it was pretty cool that we were sleeping on the floor, but
    underneath the tent was really cool!
    	Aunt Catherine gave us a good night kiss and then mom and dad
    tucked us in our little tent. Heather was really tired and crashed
    when the lights went out. I was tired too, but didn't fall asleep
    for a while. I thought about the day I had and what the next few
    days would be like. I still didn't know about the diapers and
    wanted desperately to get my underwear back. I thought that mom
    would give me back my underwear if I was dry in the morning, but
    knew that I would wet if I fell asleep. I decided to stay awake
    all night and use the bathroom when I needed.
    	I tried to stay awake as long as I could, but it was really
    boring sitting in the dark. I couldn't turn on the TV, because mom
    would know I wasn't sleeping. So I just lied in my tent and tried
    not to sleep. I couldn't stay awake and gradually drifted off to
    sleep. I have no idea when it happened, but next thing I
    remembered was waking up about 7:30 the next morning.
    	The sheets were dry and for a second I thought, "Cool, I
    didn't wet the bed." It really stinks to wake up each morning in
    cold pee saturated sheets that were beginning to smell. I really
    hated it and felt awful about all the work I was putting mom
    through. It only took me a few seconds until I remembered that I
    had a diaper on and I put my hands to my diaper.
    	It was sopping! I don't know how many times I peed that
    night, but my diaper was saturated. I was close to flooding it and
    knew I needed a change. I decided to get up and go to mom. I got
    out of our tent and the only person up was Aunt Catherine.
    	Aunt Catherine was making coffee in her kitchen, which was
    right next to her living room. It was one of those houses that had
    an open kitchen, right next to the living room.
    	I walked to the kitchen. My diaper was so soggy that it hung
    below my hips. It weighed so much that it was about to fall
    completely off, but amazingly it didn't leak! Aunt Catherine
    looked at me and it was obvious I needed my diaper changed.
    	I meekly asked, "Is my mom up?"
    	"Not yet. What's a matter honey? Do you need your diaper
    changed?"
    	I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to tell Aunt
    Catherine that I wet my diaper, but I really needed a change. I
    was getting uncomfortable and was afraid that my diaper would fall
    off. As hard as it was to admit, I fessed up and said, "Yeah."
    	"I can change your diaper." There was almost a hint of
    anticipation in her voice.
    	That's exactly what I didn't want Aunt Catherine to do. It
    was bad enough that she had to know that I wore diapers, but I
    couldn't imagine having Aunt Catherine change my diapers. I mean I
    could handle having Aunt Beth change my diaper, since she never
    let us do anything anyway. Aunt Catherine was always the cool
    aunt; she was almost the really cool older cousin. I would rather
    have had Becky, my cousin getting married, change my diaper;
    because I didn't worry about impressing Becky.
    	Aunt Catherine could tell I was reluctant and tried to quell
    my fears. "Come on, I used to change your diaper when you were a
    baby. It's nothing I haven't seen before and I won't tell
    anybody."
    	The combination of the soggy diaper and Aunt Catherine almost
    begging convinced me to let her change my diaper. My response was
    far from enthusiastic, but I gradually said "Ok."
    	"Great, I'll get your diapers and clothes and you can go in
    my room."
    	There was a hallway next to her kitchen. The guest room was
    just to the left and her room was on the right. She went in the
    guest room to pick up my diapers and clothes and I waddled to the
    right into her room. The diaper was getting so heavy that I had to
    waddle like a kid learning to walk.
    	It was a small hallway and I heard Aunt Catherine tell my
    mom, "Mark's diaper is really soaked, so I'm going to change it.
    Where are his diapers?" I didn't hear what my dad said, but a few
    seconds later Aunt Catherine was carrying my diaper bag and a
    change of clothes.
    	"I haven't done this since Rachel was three years old." That
    comment didn't make me feel any better.
    	Aunt Catherine pulled out the changing pad and placed it on
    the floor. I obligingly lay down on it and she undid the soggy
    diaper that had virtually fallen off anyway. Everything the diaper
    covered was drenched and Aunt Catherine took baby wipes and
    cleaned it all up. She held my legs with her left hand and wiped
    my bottom with her right. It was like she was a pro and you would
    hardly know she was changing an eight year old's diaper.
    	At first she didn't say anything and I was just lying naked
    on the floor. I tried to day dream, mainly to take my mind off my
    present situation. It took her about thirty seconds to finish
    cleaning my bottom, but it seemed like five minutes. Finally she
    finished and started to speak.
    	"You know, lots of kids wet the bed."
    	"Yeah, but they are all babies. I'm probably the oldest kid
    in history to still need diapers."
    	"Have you ever seen Goodnites?"
    	"Yeah."
    	"Well, who do think they make those for? Do you know they are
    making those in an even bigger size?"
    	"Do you know anybody else who wets the bed?"
    	"Not that I know for sure, but I know some people who used to
    wet the bed and their pants. You do, too." During this whole time
    she was drying off the area that she cleaned and pouring baby
    powder on my bottom.
    	"Who do I know who used to wet their beds?" I was very
    doubtful that anyone I knew wet their beds. I could accept that a
    few people my age still wet their beds, but they weren't very
    many.
    	"Well, do you promise not to tell them I told you?"
    	At this point I wanted to know and how could I say anything.
    Aunt Catherine held an even bigger secret about me, so I wouldn't
    tell anyone. "I promise; tell me."
    	"I know that your cousin John wore diapers when he was your
    age." John is Becky's younger brother and about nine years older
    than me. At this point Becky was 21 and John was 17.
    	"How do you know that?" I didn't believe that my big cousin
    John could have wet his bed. He is a big football player, who
    plays in College now. At the time John had become the biggest
    person in our family and everyone bragged how big he was. I
    couldn't imagine someone like that could ever have wet his bed.
    	"I used to baby-sit him and Becky when they were younger. I
    had change his diaper at bedtime. He was still wetting when I went
    to college, so he might not have stopped."
    	That sounded pretty cool, but I wanted more. Aunt Catherine
    placed the fresh diaper under my legs and I asked "Who else?"
    	"Uncle Ron used to wet his bed as well. He even wet his pants
    and he was older than you."
    	"Uncle Ron used to wet his bed?"
    	"Yeah and he used to accidents in his pants. I remember when
    I was five and I had to take a nap on Uncle Ron's bed. I didn't
    wet the bed, but Ron did and had a plastic sheet on his bed. I
    couldn't believe my big brother still wet the bed, but saw him wet
    his pants after that. He was twelve years old and I thought only
    babies wet their pants. I got in trouble for teasing him and
    calling him a baby. I don't remember when he stopped, but I think
    he still wet when I started school."
    	I suddenly didn't feel so alone when I heard about my other
    relatives who wet their beds. Aunt Catherine finished diapering me
    and helped me get dressed. We went back to the kitchen and she
    fixed me some juice. The two of us just sat at the table eating
    our breakfast for another twenty minutes before anyone else woke
    up. It was really a nice time and I began to feel diapers weren't
    that bad after all.

    Part 3

    	Mom was the first to join our little powwow. There really
    wasn't a lot of talking. Aunt Catherine and I were just sitting
    quietly at the table enjoying a simple breakfast. Aunt Catherine
    had bought some donuts, which I normally didn't get to eat. I had
    a donut and a big glass of orange juice; not the usual glass of
    OJ, but the same size that I usually drank milk in. Aunt Catherine
    had the paper out, and we were both reading the paper. She read
    the front page, and I read the comics.
    	Mom groggily walked up to the table. I normally didn't see
    mom like that, since she always woke up before me. When I was
    younger I used to think that mom never slept, since she always put
    me to bed and then woke me up in the morning. Mom hadn't had her
    coffee, and didn't say anything till she sipped her coffee.
    	Aunt Catherine spoke up.
    	"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"
    	Mom mumbled something, but I didn't understand what she said.
    Finally she took the first sip of coffee, and the cheery morning
    smile came back.
    	"I slept really well, that's a lot better bed than you had."
    	Mom walked over to me, and gently kissed my forehead. It was
    her way of saying good morning. She asked, "Did Aunt Katie change
    your diaper?"
    	I always called her Aunt Catherine, since she hated Katie.
    Mom used to call her Katie, and sometimes forgot. "Yeah."
    	"That's nice, did you thank her?"
    	I couldn't remember whether I thanked her for changing my
    diaper. I never thought about. I was grateful, especially since
    she helped me feel better, but I didn't consider thanking her for
    changing my diaper. I figured I'd better thank her now, before
    Heather woke up. I turned to my aunt, and said, "Thank you."
    	"You're welcome. .. ." She was about to say something else,
    but stopped herself.
    	Mom started talking to Aunt Catherine. "I should let you
    change all his diapers. Its a nice break."
    	"It wasn't that bad. I'll gladly take care of Mark at the
    wedding."
    	"Don't speak too quickly, I may take you up on it. You still
    haven't changed one of his poopy diapers. His poops are pretty
    bad."
    	"Well, that goes with territory."
    	"If you keep giving him that much juice, you will get your
    chance to change him."
    	It felt really strange to have my mom and aunt discuss my
    bodily functions right in front of me. I quickly downed my juice
    and went back into the living room to watch some TV. Turning on
    the television woke Heather up. Heather was still a little drowsy,
    and waking up in an unfamiliar environment startled her. She cried
    out "Mommy!"
    	I immediately stuck my head inside our little tent. Heather
    instantly relaxed when she realized she wasn't alone. I didn't
    understand why she shouted out and hoped that she wet the bed. I
    secretly thought, "if she wets her bed, mom may make her wear
    diapers as well." I decided to be a good big brother, and help my
    sister through this accident.
    	"What's a matter? Did you wet the bed?" As hard as I tried to
    hide it, I couldn't disguise my optimistic anticipation of her
    really being wet. Heather fully recovered from the initial shock,
    and was back to her normal self.
    	"No. I don't need baby diapers. I'm gonna use the potty like
    a big girl."
    	Heather ran straight into the bathroom and peed all by
    herself. She normally took help from my parents, but was beginning
    to want independence in using the toilet. Her desire for
    independence increased when I went back to diapers. Mom saw
    Heather come from the bathroom to the kitchen and praised her for
    using the toilet all by herself.
    	"Did my big girl use the potty all by herself?" There was an
    element of surprise in her voice, since Heather rarely tried this
    by herself, especially now that she was in a different bathroom.
    	"Uh huh, I can do it by myself now," Heather pronounced
    proudly.
    	"Did you wash your hands like mommy wants you?"
    	"Yeah. I flushed the potty, and then my washed hands. Just
    like you showed me."
    	Aunt Catherine expressed her admiration. "My what a big girl
    you're becoming!"
    	Mom candidly responded "Yeah, maybe she can teach Mark."
    	I know mom wasn't trying to make me feel bad. She was
    frustrated. She felt inadequate as a parent, because I couldn't
    use the toilet. She didn't like to compare herself to my Aunt
    Claire, who is Uncle Ron's wife. Both Rachel and Ryan were potty
    trained before their third birthday. I'm almost a year older than
    Ryan, yet he was potty trained more than a year before me. Rachel
    and Heather are almost the same age, but Rachel was potty trained
    about a year before Heather.
    	A year earlier Uncle Ron and Aunt Claire took Ryan and Rachel
    to California for vacation. We spent a week together, usually
    doing something each day. Neither Rachel nor Ryan needed diapers
    at any point during the week. They made it all the way to
    California, in a car, without a single accident! They didn't even
    wet their beds! Heather still wasn't potty trained at all; she
    wouldn't start until the fall. I still wore diapers at night, and
    used them on the outings as well. Mom was so embarrassed, because
    Heather and I spent most of the week in diapers, while Ryan and
    Rachel didn't need them.
    	I didn't feel as bad about needing diapers, but I was still
    apprehensive about meeting Ryan. Ryan and I weren't especially
    great pals, but hung out on family outings since our ages were so
    close. Our families figured we should be great friends, but we
    almost always got in fights. Ryan wasn't very nice. He was really
    selfish with his toys, and called me names all the time. It didn't
    help matters that I wasn't really potty trained. He didn't
    understand why I still wet my pants, and it got worse the older he
    got. The last time he kept calling me a baby, and wouldn't let me
    play with any of the toys he brought. He said, "These aren't for
    babies." Of course, he always wanted to play with my toys, but I
    couldn't play with his. I tried to retaliate and prevent him from
    using my toys, but I got in trouble. When I protested, dad said,
    "Well, you're older, and should know better."
    	We had a hotel room in Appleton for the next two nights, but
    couldn't get in the room until 2:00. We still needed to get a
    wedding gift, so my parents decided to take us to the mall by our
    hotel. Before we left I realized the big glass of OJ made its way
    through my system. I had to pee, and the bathroom was full. I
    decided just to use my diaper, and just let it go. Right in my
    diaper. I think mom could tell that I wet on purpose, because I
    stood up to pee. When I finished I announced, "Mom, I wet my
    diaper."
    	This clearly frustrated mom. She was getting herself dressed
    and helping Heather get ready. She knew that I did it on purpose,
    and sighed, "Mark, I wish you would let me know before you go
    potty. Just because you're wearing a diaper doesn't mean you have
    to use it. You'll just have to wait until I finish getting
    dressed."
    	I pretty much flooded the diaper, and it was leaking on the
    side. "But mommy, it's leaking." I cried.
    	"Well, my hands are full right now. Daddy will be out in a
    minute, and he can change you." I knew my dad would eventually
    have to change my diaper, but I wanted to prevent it as long as
    possible. I didn't know how gentle dad would be, and was afraid he
    would be angry. I realized that it was going to happen, and
    prepared for the worst.
    	Aunt Catherine came to my rescue. She called me into her
    room, and said, "Mark, I'm free. I can change your diaper." Once
    again, I was lying on the floor in Aunt Catherine's room while she
    changed a soggy diaper.
    	We spent most of the morning at the mall in Appleton. It was
    a big mall, much bigger than the one next to my house. This was a
    bigger mall than ours, but still had the same stuff.
    	Mom, Aunt Catherine, and Heather went to all the girlie
    stores, while Dad and I went to Sears. I had the choice to stay
    with mom and Aunt Catherine, or go with dad. I chose dad, which
    was really cool. We went to the hardware section in Sears, and dad
    looked at all the power tools. I didn't know anything about tools,
    which made me bored. I started playing with the tools and dad got
    mad.
    	"Mark, stop playing with that. Those aren't toys!"
    	At first I was afraid to talk to him. Dad was normally hard
    to talk to and I thought he was mad at me because I was wearing
    diapers. When I said that I wanted to stay with dad, it looked
    like he preferred that I stay with mom. Mom gave him my diaper
    bag, which had the big Mickey Mouse ears on it. It wasn't
    something dad wanted to carry and he abruptly gave it to me. He
    said, "Here, you can carry this." It looked like carrying the
    diaper bag embarrassed dad, especially since it was for his eight
    year old son.
    	Eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I began to
    ask about the various tools we saw. Dad was so appreciative that I
    showed some interest and answered each question. It was a great
    father-son moment that we hadn't ever shared before. He wasn't
    speaking to me as the disappointing young son, but the with total
    pride that his son wanted to learn about tools. He told me what
    each tool could do and why he wanted to get one. He showed that he
    would get, and told me what he was going to do with it. I had
    never seen my dad like this, and I suddenly felt much closer than
    I ever did before.
    	We got so engrossed in our conversation that we totally lost
    track of time and I lost track of using the bathroom. I soon felt
    my diaper sag and realized I needed a change. I wondered what
    would happen to our newfound respect if dad needed to change my
    diaper, but knew a leaking diaper would be worse. I swallowed my
    pride and told dad about my soggy diaper. I tucked on his shirt
    and whispered "Dad, I peed in my diaper. I need a new one."
    	I could tell that he wished mom was around. If mom was around
    I would have told her and she would take care of it. Now, even if
    mom came by, he still had to change me. If he told mom that I
    needed a change, mom would just show him which bathroom to use. At
    first I thought he was going to be mad, but he didn't seem angry.
    	"Let's see if we can find the bathroom."
    	The men's bathroom at Sears was in the top floor, and we
    walked all around the store trying to find it. I came really close
    to soaking the diaper. It couldn't hold much more, but I've had
    wetter diapers. I knew it wouldn't leak, but really wanted a new
    one. Dad eventually had to ask one of the clerks, and he pointed
    us to the right direction.
    	There was one of those diaper changing tables in the
    bathroom, but it wasn't big enough for me. Dad pulled it down and
    examined it. He turned his head, and said, "I don't think you'll
    fit there. I guess were going to have to do it in a stall."
    	We both walked into the handicapped stall, and dad undid my
    diaper before I lay down. It didn't take him long. He changed my
    diaper like it was an Olympic event for speed. The diaper came
    off, he wiped down, powdered my bottom and then put the fresh
    diaper in place. All told it only took him a minute, and it seemed
    faster than that. There wasn't any chatter, but I didn't feel
    awful. The only awkward part came when we got out of the stall.
    Dad was still holding the used diaper and tossed in the garbage
    can on our way out. Another guy was using the urinal and I saw him
    stare when we both came out of the stall. Then he saw dad throw
    away a wet diaper and he really had a stunned face. I needed one
    more change before we got to the hotel. It was right after lunch,
    and I pooped in my diaper. I was walking with Aunt Catherine, and
    she looked at me and said, "Did you just poop?" I didn't say
    anything, but I smiled.
    	Aunt Catherine told mom, "Mark just messed his diaper. I'm
    taking him to the family bathroom."
    	"Are you sure you want to do that? His stinky diapers are
    really bad."
    	"Don't worry about it."
    	I walked with Aunt Catherine across the mall, to the family
    restroom. Both bathrooms were occupied. Catherine and I waited in
    a small waiting room, which fortunately didn't take very long. We
    only waited about a minute. I didn't like waiting, because I knew
    someone would see me go in with Aunt Catherine. Aunt Catherine was
    carrying my diaper bag, which made it pretty obvious I needed
    diapers. I didn't feel like hearing in snide comments, but I
    expected it I just kept my head on the floor, and waited for a
    room to open up.
    	Finally a door opened, and I couldn't believe what I saw. I
    saw a kid who looked about five years old and his mother was
    carrying the same type of bag that Aunt Catherine was carrying. I
    wasn't sure, but assumed he was in diapers as well. Aunt Catherine
    and I both looked at each other but didn't say anything. And then
    I looked at the boy and he looked at me. We both knew what each
    other was thinking but didn't know what to say to one another.
    	I waited until Aunt Catherine closed the door, and asked, "Do
    you think he's wearing diapers?"
    	"I don't know, but it looks that way. I'm sure you're not the
    only kid who has to wear a diaper."
    	"How old do you think he is?" I guessed that he was five, but
    he could be any age. A lot of people would think I was only six,
    because I was so small. He may have been a big four year old, but
    he didn't act like he was four. He looked embarrassed when he came
    out of the bathroom, and little kids don't get embarrassed about
    diapers.
    	"I'm not sure. Probably just a few years younger than you,
    maybe six." Aunt Catherine opened up my stinky diaper and held her
    breath.
    	"Your mom wasn't lying. You really did a number in this
    diaper."
    	I felt kind of guilty, but didn't really know why. I was
    wearing diapers for a reason, and so I might as well use them.
    Anyway, I didn't know I was going to poop until it was too late. I
    didn't really try to hold it when I was wearing diapers, and just
    let everything go. I realized I had less control in diapers than
    underwear. I apologized anyway. "I'm sorry."
    	"Don't be sorry, that's what diapers are for. I just have to
    clean you. Anyway, it gives us a chance to talk. I don't get to
    talk to you much, since you live in California. So tell me, what
    do you like to do?"
    	Aunt Catherine began talking to me like that while she was
    cleaning my bottom. I was looking directly into her face and
    forgot what she was doing. The whole time that she talked to me,
    she held my legs with her left hand and cleaned my bottom with the
    right hand. If we weren't talking I would have been really self-
    conscious about my diaper being changed, but I didn't even realize
    what she was doing. Pretty soon she dropped my legs and pulled up
    the new diaper. "All done!" I didn't want to admit it, but I
    wished it took longer.
    	We went back to my parents, and then it was time to check in
    the hotel Heather asked, "Mommy, is there a pool at this hotel?"
    	"I think so, honey."
    	"Goody, we can go swimming!" Heather and I didn't get to swim
    much, but we both knew how to swim. Heather thought a little bit,
    and then asked, "Mommy, what's Mark gonna do?"
    	"What do you mean, sweetie?"
    	"He can't swim, because he's got diapers."
    	"I didn't think of that. We should have picked up some swim
    diapers for him, which he should use anyway. I guess he won't be
    able to swim." "What!" I complained. "Why not?" Not swimming was a
    cruel punishment, especially since Rachel, Ryan, and Heather were
    going to spend most of their time in the pool.
    	"Honey, we don't have anything for you to wear." "I've got a
    swim suit!" I knew that, because I packed it myself. It wasn't
    just the pool, but there was also a lake that was next to Ryan's
    house. I couldn't comprehend not being able to swim, but mom
    refused to relent.
    	"We don't have any swim diapers, and I'm not going to let you
    in the pool without them."
    	"I'm not a baby. I don't need diapers!" I protested
    vehemently, even more than when they first put them on me.
    	"Well, you haven't proven to me yet!" Mom's words were harsh,
    but to the point.
    	Just as we got ourselves settled in the room Uncle Ron came
    over. "Hey Jim (which is my dad's name) come on over to our room.
    We've got pizza, beer, and sodas."
    	"Well, we've already had lunch, but a beer sounds pretty
    nice."
    	"Yeah, the Cubs are on. Claire and kids are getting ready to
    go in the pool. You and I can watch the game while the kids swim."
    	Heather was already in her swim suit, and almost ran across
    the hall to Uncle Ron's room. I wasn't going to be swimming, so I
    didn't rush. This was one of those suite hotels that have small
    bedrooms in it. We walked into their room and I could see into the
    little bedroom where Ryan and Rachel were getting dressed. Rachel
    was already in her swimsuit, but Aunt Claire had her hand in a
    package of Lil' Swimmers Diapers. I only knew what they were
    because I saw an ad for them once. I never expected to see someone
    wear one; let alone one of Aunt Claire's kids.
    	Aunt Claire handed Ryan the Lil' Swimmers Diaper. Ryan had a
    disgusted look on his face, and asked, "Do I have to, mom? Can't I
    wear a normal bathing suit?"
    	"No, because we threw your bathing suit away, and you know
    why. You're going to have to wear these for the rest of the
    summer, and if you prove that you are ready I'll buy you a new
    bathing suit next year."
    	I wasn't alone in my surprise. Mom looked at Aunt Catherine
    and asked, "What are those for?"
    	Aunt Claire was clearly embarrassed. "Oh those. Ryan and a
    few friends decided it would be really funny if they leave their
    mark while swimming in a neighbor's pool. They pooped in the pool.
    We initially banned him from swimming for the rest of the year,
    but that was too hard on Ryan. Not swimming in our neighborhood is
    like taking a kids legs from him, so we gave him a choice. He
    could swim, but he had to wear the Lil' Swimmers Diapers. He's
    only been wearing them a week and he's still getting used to it."
    	Mom thought for a moment, and asked, "Can we use one?"
    	"What for? Does Heather need them?"
    	"No, it's Mark."
    	At that point Aunt Claire looked up and saw the top of my
    diaper. "I see." She whispered so I wouldn't hear, but I could
    still hear.
    	"Why is he in diapers?"
    	Mom whispered back, "he's been having accidents, and it was
    just too much. We're using diapers this trip, and seeing what
    happens when we get home."
    	Aunt Claire gave mom one of the Lil' Swimmers Diapers, and
    then mom turned to me. "Here Mark, you can swim now."
    	I was still angry that she wasn't letting me wear my swimming
    suit. "I wanna wear my swim suit."
    	"Well, that's not going to happen. It's either going this, or
    nothing. Do you want to go swimming?"
    	"Yes!" I had a very snotty voice.
    	"Well, than you're going to have to wear this, or not go. And
    you can stop the attitude, or I'll just put you down for nap!" I
    got the point.
    	"Now, what do you want to do? And I want it nice, or you're
    going back to the room and take a nap."
    	"Can I go swimming, please?"
    	"Yes you can." I lay on the bed, and mom undid my diaper. She
    helped me into the Lil' Swimmers Diaper, which was tight. It fit,
    but barely. They were in bright primary colors, which wasn't
    common for normal bathing suits. We could have worn our regular
    bathing suits over those things but our moms wouldn't let us.
    	There were some other kids in the pool, but nobody really
    noticed we had strange swimming suits. Ryan and I started swimming
    together, and it seemed like was nicer. He and I horsed around,
    while my mom and Aunt Claire talked. I pretended not to hear what
    they were talking about, but I was really listening. Mom was
    talking about me and why I was wearing diapers. She told Aunt
    Claire about our trip to Disneyland, and how Heather started using
    the toilet in October.
    	Aunt Claire told mom about the problem she was having with
    Ryan. Ryan had been wetting his bed, not every day, but about
    three times a month. It was really strange, since he stopped when
    he was three. He also had occasional accidents during the day, and
    it was getting worse. She said Ryan had already had four accidents
    in the last month, and wet his bed four times. We stayed in the
    pool till 4:30 and then mom made us get out. She said that we had
    swam enough, and it was time to rest. I didn't know what she meant
    by this, but soon found out.
    	All four of us went back to Aunt Claire's room, and then mom
    took Heather and me to our room. We got in our room, and mom told
    us "We are going to be out late tonight, so I want you guys to
    take a nap."
    	A nap! I hadn't taken any nap since I was four years old, and
    had no intention of starting now. "I don't need a nap!" I
    protested. "It's going to be a late night and I don't want you
    cranky. Lie down, and sleep for a few hours. I'll get you up at
    six."
    	"I'm not a baby, and I don't take naps."
    	"Yes you are, and I don't want anymore lip."
    	There was only two beds, which meant Heather and I would have
    to share. Dad was sleeping on my parent's bed, so I couldn't use
    that one. Heather and I aren't agreeable as sleeping partners
    since we both toss around. We end up knocking into each other, and
    a lot of time we get in fights. We can sleep next to each other in
    sleeping bags, but never in the same bed.
    	"I don't want to sleep with Mark. I don't like sleeping when
    he pee pees."
    	"He's wearing a diaper, so I don't want to hear anymore about
    it."
    	Heather and I immediately started fighting with each other.
    We both hated sleeping in the same bed, and tried to stay on
    opposite ends. Eventually we fell asleep, and ended up tossing
    into each other. When that happened, we woke up and started
    fighting again.
    	The fighting wasn't the worst thing that happened. I ended up
    using my diaper quite a bit, and it leaked. I peed all over the
    bed and Heather woke up. At first she thought it was her, but saw
    my clothes. My pants were all wet, and hers weren't. She cried out
    to mom. "MOMMY!"
    	"What happened?" Mom and dad came rushing in.
    	"The beds all wet. Did I pee pee in the bed?"
    	"Let's see." Dad examined the scene, and confirmed that my
    diaper leaked. "Looks like Mark's diaper leaked. Let's get you all
    cleaned up."
    	Dad took Heather in the bathroom, and cleaned her all up. Mom
    took care of my diaper and stripped the bed. I listened to Heather
    as she complained that she didn't want to sleep with me anymore.
    She said that I was a baby, and she didn't think it was fair that
    she had to she share her bed with me. I didn't say anything, but
    mom and dad both agreed that sharing beds wasn't going to work.
    	"We've got to get a change in linen anyway, I'll just ask for
    a rollaway as well." Dad said, nodding his head. He left the room,
    and mom helped get both of us ready for our night out.
    	A few minutes later dad was back in the room. "They're going
    to change the linen this evening. It'll be ready when we get
    back."
    	"What about the rollaway? Do they have a rollaway?"
    	Dad started talking silently to mom, and I couldn't hear what
    he said. He was nodding his head, and mom nodded back at him. I
    only heard a few sounds, but couldn't figure out what he said. One
    of the words ended in "b", but I wasn't really sure. It was clear
    he didn't want us to hear his answer, which I figured wasn't good
    news.
    	People were coming from all over the country for this
    wedding, and a lot of them were spending Friday night in Appleton.
    The groom's family had a dinner party in Green Bay for all the
    visitors, so they had somewhere to go on Friday night. It wasn't a
    formal party, so we didn't have to get dressed up. This was more
    like a Barb-b-que, and we could wear our really fun clothes.
    	There were a lot of people at this party, and I only knew a
    few of them. The only people I knew were my relatives. Becky and
    John were both really busy, and I didn't get to talk to them much
    at all. Aunt Beth and Uncle Don helped host the party, which kept
    them busy. They only gave me the obligatory "Hi, nice to see you."
    	There were a lot of kids around, including a few my age. At
    first we didn't play with each other, since we didn't know each
    other. Ryan and I ran around by ourselves, and the other guys ran
    by themselves. Fortunately, it didn't take us long to start
    playing together. They were three other boys who were close to my
    age. I only remember one guy's name, which was Steven. Steven was
    a cousin of Becky's husband, and he was from Texas. I hadn't ever
    meet anyone from Texas before, and I remember his name, because
    his voice was so funny.
    	The other two were brothers, and nephews of Becky's husband.
    Steven was the oldest; he was almost eleven. One of the brothers
    was nine, and the other was seven. There were a few girls around,
    and we played with them as well. We even had some of the older
    kids start playing with us, including John for a while.
    	Most of the time we played tag, but right at the end of the
    night we played capture the flag. It was boy's versus girls, and
    we had a really big yard to play in. It was getting dark, which
    made it even cooler. It was easy to sneak up on the flag, and then
    try to run away. I thought the teams wouldn't be fair, because we
    were boys. Most of the girls weren't as good as us, but there was
    one girl who was really fast. She got our flag two times, and we
    couldn't catch her. One time I got their flag, and started to run
    back to base. I got so close, but she caught me.
    	I thought someone would notice my diaper, but no one seemed
    to notice. I wasn't sure whether they couldn't tell, or were just
    being polite. I didn't really care, because I was having so much
    fun. I even forgot about the diaper until the very end of the
    night.
    	I walked by mom, and she said, "How's your diaper?"
    	I put my hand on my crotch, and said, "I don't know, but I
    think it's wet."
    	"Well, let's go change it." Mom and I went to our car and she
    changed my diaper while I lied on the back seat. It was the best
    place, but at least no one noticed.
    	I got up from my diaper change, and at the other end of the
    yard I saw Ryan crying. At first I didn't know why, and ran to see
    what happened. I got close enough, and soon realized why he was
    crying. There was a big wet patch right in the front of his jeans.
    He peed his pants! Aunt Claire was already on scene, so I just
    stood at the distance and watched.
    	"What happened?" She asked. Her voice seemed skeptical, and
    frustrated.
    	"I wet my pants."
    	"Why didn't you go to the toilet?" I always thought that was
    a stupid question, because I never chose to pee my pants; at least
    not right in front of everybody. If I knew that I was going to
    pee, I would have peed in the toilet. It obvious I didn't know
    that I was going to pee, so why are you asking me.
    	"I don't know." Ryan was clearly not getting any sympathy
    from his mother, and I felt sorry for him.
    	"Do you want to wear diapers like Mark?"
    	"No!" Ryan had to fight back his tears, but had stopped
    sobbing. He realized that sympathy wasn't going to come, and it
    was a waste of energy to cry. He now tried to maintain whatever
    dignity he had left. "Well, I suggest you start trying a little
    harder, or I might have to put you back in a diaper."

    Mark Holtebeck(AKA Sparky)