Oh boy, a trip out with Lorna and her mum Gwen. I loved going out with them – there were always treats, and if I stayed the night, which I normally did, we would all sit up late in Gwens big bed watching films on her big screen TV, eating snacks and giggling. In some ways, although I was usually kept in nappies and plastic pants and slept in Lornas old cot I felt more grown up when I stayed there.

On this particular day I had come round to Lornas straight after breakfast. Later on Gwen was going to take both of us with her into town while she did some shopping. Although my auntie Rosie had put a clean nappy on me after breakfast, I had managed to wet so much that by mid morning the seat of the dungarees I was wearing had become saturated. Gwen pulled these off me along with my nappies and plastic pants and sat me on Lornas old potty in nothing but a t-shirt while she put my dungarees out to dry. Lorna went off to fetch a pair of her old training pants. After the statutory ten minutes on the potty with no results Lorna had put the training pants on me and we carried on playing. Just before lunch though, engrossed in our game, I looked down between my legs to see a puddle appearing and soaking into the carpet. I started to cry softly, both from the mess I was making at my best friends house, and my feelings of babyishness at wetting myself in front of a girl my own age. Gwen as usual though was quite unconcerned. “You can’t help it dear, I thought you may be ready for big boy pants but you obviously aren’t yet”. Leaving Lorna to dry the carpet as best as she could, Gwen took me by the hand upstairs to the bathroom. I stood there as she pulled off my soaked training pants and washed me with a warm flannel. She stood there for a moment looking at me, then opened a cupboard and took out a large towelling nappy. “I think this may be better for you” she said as she laid it on the floor and quickly folded it into a triangle. Again taking my hand she helped me to lie down in the middle of the nappy, and pinned it at the front with a large pink nappy pin. The nappy wasn’t quite as soft as the ones I wore at home, and had several dark stains on it. Evidently Lorna had put her nappies through a hard life when she wore them. From the same cupboard Gwen then pulled out a pair of plastic pants. I had seen her put Lorna in these ones at night in the past. They were quite large, plain white with a slight yellow discolouration around the front – the result of many years of Lornas wetting, but as we weren’t ready to go out yet, Gwen didn’t seem to mind how unsightly they were. “It’s about performance, not looks” she quipped. Not being in any position to argue, given my recent lack of control, I meekly raised my legs when Gwen told me to, enabling her to slide the plastic pants up and over my nappy. “There”, she said brightly, “that’s more sensible isn’t it. Besides you look much cuter like that than with those nasty thin training pants”.

I toddled downstairs holding her hand and we all sat down together for lunch. My nappy felt funny – it had more bulk at the front than usual, the result of Gwen folding my nappy into a triangle rather than the usual kite shape, and the plastic pants were big and baggy. Gwen and Rosie had had a long discussion one time while I was being changed on the merits of a kite fold as against a triangle fold for nappies. Both agreed that a triangle shape was better for babies however Gwen said that she sometime used the kite fold on Lorna as she got bigger, while auntie Rosie was adamant that the kite shape, with a pin at each side, was more secure for active boys in the daytime, especially older ones. Old habits must have died hard with Gwen though, for the unusual thickness in front of my legs attested to the triangle fold she had used on my nappy.

After lunch Gwen said to me “as we’re going out, I think you’ll be better off staying in nappies”. She asked Lorna to fetch a clean nappy so I could be changed and lay me down in front of her. Kneeling down she pulled off my T shirt and plastic pants, unfastened the pin at the front of the nappy and gently slid the mass of wet material away from my bottom. Gwen started to fold the clean nappy into a triangle, then giggled. “Silly me” she said, “an active little boy like you will hardly be able to walk in this” and she changed the fold to a kite fold. Grabbing another pin, she secured the nappy on either side, then looked at me and pulled a face. “Now what”, she said, “you can’t go out wearing wet dungarees. Lorna, fetch some of your old clothes for Davey to wear”. “But auntie Gwen” I said, “I’m not a girl”. Gwen smiled down at me as I lay in front of her dressed only in a fluffy white nappy pinned at each side with a pink nappy pin. “Don’t worry dear, nobody will know and besides, you’ll look much nicer in some of Lornas clothes than those horrible old dungarees.” Lorna came back carrying some items of clothing. First were the plastic pants. As they were pulled up my legs I looked at them. Clearly for a girl, they were lined inside with plastic, whilst on the outside they were far more fancy than the ones I was used to. They were covered in soft pink cotton, and along the bottom were several rows of ruffles. They fit snugly over my padded bottom and the elasticated legs gripped me tightly around the thighs. Next a short matching dress was pulled over my head. I looked at the mother and daughter with a confused look on my face. “Oh Lorna” gushed Gwen, “doesn’t he look adorable”. I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Small for my age, I stood there looking for all the world like a little girl. My dress wasn’t even long enough to cover my well padded bottom - covered with frills it was clearly showing under my dress and it was obvious that I was wearing a large cloth nappy underneath. Although my hair was fairly short, I could easily pass for a 4 year old tomboy. Slightly old to still be in nappies, but otherwise looking cute in a pink dress with matching rumba pants. Being led around the shopping mall by Gwen and Lorna people would naturally assume I was the younger daughter – perhaps a bit slow to potty train but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary. A pair of sandals completed my outfit and then Lorna and I were strapped into the back seat of Gwen’s car and we headed off to the shopping mall.

Dutifully I held Gwens hand as we entered. Although slightly self-conscious of my nappies, I soon realised that most people didn’t really notice anything too out of the ordinary. After some grocery shopping, we went into a childrens clothing shop. For Lorna, it was a chance to look at some summer dresses. For Gwen, it was a chance to gaze nostalgically at baby and toddler wear. “If only you were my little boy” she whispered, looking at romper suits with poppers down the front, and posters of mothers breast feeding their babies. She stopped at the nappy section. “Since you aren’t ready to get out of nappies yet, perhaps we should buy some things to help keep your little bottom dry”. Although I had no problems with Gwen and Lorna knowing my real identity, I was a bit nervous of what she would tell the sales assistant. I couldn’t stop her though as she called one over. Fairly young, in her late teens, the sales assistant had a kind face and a brisk, efficient manner. I breathed a sigh of relief as Gen started. “My little girl is a late trainer. I need some more plastic pants for her, but have you got any that are a little less plain. Just because she isn’t ready for big girl pants doesn’t mean that she can’t look smart”. The sales assistant looked down at my padded bottom and smiled. She must have guessed I was older than I seemed, as she said “Well, normally at her age we’d just be selling things for night time use and mothers don’t worry too much about looks, but in fact we do have some cute little pants that she would look adorable in.” From the adjacent shelf she selected a couple of packages. Opening the first she pulled out a large pair of plastic pants. A light yellow, they were decorated with pictures of teddy bears and rattles. Shaking them out, she held them in front of me at my waist. She looked at Gwen, who smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “Are you sure they are her size?” The sales assistant looked at the label at the back “for 4 to 8 year olds” she said. “Is that about right?” “Well, actually she is a bit older, but close enough” Gwen said. “We’ll take them”. The sales assistant looked a bit surprised that I was even older than 8 years old, and still in nappies in the daytime, but covering it up she opened the other package. This contained a similar pair of plastic pants, although with pictures of clowns on. After paying for the purchases, we left the shop, the sales assistant looking at my waddling walk.

Our next stop was an ice cream parlour. Sitting outside eating our ice creams, I felt a surge in my abdomen. I hadn’t been able to empty my bowels that morning as I’d been in too much of a hurry to rush over to Lornas. Now however my oversight was coming back to haunt me. “Auntie Gwen” I whispered, “I need to do a poo”. I hoped Lorna hadn’t heard – I wasn’t very comfortable with anyone but auntie Rosie seeing me doing a poo but Gwen I could just about handle. Gwen looked concerned. “Well”, she said. “I haven’t bought any nappies to change you – do you think you can hold on until we get home?” I looked up at her. “I’ll try” I said in a shaky voice. I wasn’t used to waiting – in the past I hadn’t had much success. “Come on, let’s go” said Gwen taking my hand. Lorna looked quizzically at her. “Davey needs to do a poo, so we’d better get back home” she said. Lorna looked at me. “We don’t want baby to mess his pants do we” she said. Gwen smiled. “It wasn’t that long ago I would have been saying something similar to you” she said. Lorna smiled back – “but I’m past all that aren’t I, I’m not baby anymore”. “No dear,” Gwen said, “but boys are always slower than girls, and some boys” looking down at me “are much slower”. We walked back to the car, my bowels protesting more and more. I started to cry as we reached the car. “Auntie Gwen, I don’t think I can hold it in” I said. “Never mind dear” said Gwen, “ it won’t be the first time I’ve had to change a smelly bottom”. She looked over at Lorna who at least had the grace to look mildly sheepish. “But do try and be a big boy – really, we’ll be home soon”. I nodded my head miserably and we started off. It was no use though. Halfway home I couldn’t hold it any more. With a quiet sob, I had to let go to release the pressure in my bowels. I could feel the poo filling the seat of my nappy and squishing around my thighs, and the car instantly filled with the smell of the results of my lack of control. Gwen smiled, as the smell bought back memories. Lorna was more vocal. “Phew” she groaned, opening the window, “baby really does need changing now”. I sat there quietly with tears running down my face as we reached home. As I walked in, I could feel my nappy, filled, and soaking wet, hanging down. Gwen took me by the hand again and brightly said “I know a little boy who needs a bath”. Taking me upstairs, with Lorna following, we headed for the bathroom.

As she ran the bath, she stood me in front of her. My nappy, very full and wet, sagged down. Gwen pulled the front of my plastic pants down and unfastened the pins. She then pulled the nappy and pants off together, and wiped away as much of the poo from my bottom as possible with a flannel. Plonking me in the bath she poured in a cup of bubble bath and left me to play while she took the plastic pants off and rinsed the nappy in the toilet. From the same cupboard that she had earlier taken out a nappy for me, she pulled out a nappy bucket with a resealable lid. “I didn’t think I’d need this again” she said to herself, as she half filled it with water and dumped my nappy and plastic pants into it. Meanwhile Lorna had started to wash me with the flannel. Standing me up in the bath, she carefully washed me all over with a flannel, taking care to thoroughly clean my nappy area. I felt humiliated having a girl my age washing me, but since she had just watched me having my dirty nappy unpinned I couldn't really feel much worse, Finished at last, Gwen took over. She laid a large towel on her lap and lifted me out of the bath and sat me on top of it. Drying my top half, she laid me on her lap on my back while she dried around my bottom. Lorna was ready with some baby powder which was lavishly sprinkled on me, and then Lorna handed Gwen another towelling nappy. One of my new pair of plastic pants – the ones with teddy bears and rattles was pulled up my legs, and over my nappy. Standing me up, my dress was pulled over my head and Gwen carried me downstairs. She sat the couch and nestled me into her arms. After the emotion of the long day, I buried my face into her breasts and drifted off to sleep, the picture of innocence and helplessness smelling sweetly of baby powder, and dressed only in a pink dress, and yellow plastic pants….