In May 1963 I turned twelve. One day that month, I got home early from school because baseball practice got rained out. (No, we weren’t a bunch of sissies; the field flooded easily and the school wouldn’t let us use it.) I heard my two younger brothers upstairs in their bedroom. It sounded like they were having a good time together. This seemed almost incredible. Our mom and dad were always after them for fighting. I was curious to see what could cause them to do so much laughing together.

“Hi, guys. What’s up?” I asked walking into their room.

They were sitting on the floor on the other side of their beds where they frequently set up games—racing cars, army men, and the like. They looked up at me guiltily.

“You’re supposed to knock,” my youngest brother objected. “Don’t come in!”

“The door was open,” I answered innocently.

They were getting more and more uncomfortable and guilty-looking as I approached.

“Stay away,” my other brother said. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

That really made me curious. I continued walking in and, before they could hide under the bed, I saw what they were worried about. They were wearing my diapers! That is, diapers that I had outgrown. Let me explain.

There were six people in my family. My dad and mom, Winston and Elizabeth Malvrey; my seventeen-year old sister, Elaine; me, Wade; my brothers Willis, aged ten and a-half and Winthrop, aged nine. We were a pretty average family, I think. My dad was an insurance broker and my mom an interior design artist. My mom only went back to work the previous year when she thought that Willie and Winnie were old enough to take care of themselves on the occasional days she had to work past her scheduled three-o’clock quitting time.

Now—about the diapers. I was, and still am, a bed wetter. My parents had me thoroughly checked out (multiple times) with always the same prediction—that I would grow out of it soon. The first time I heard that, I was five years old; seven years later I still hadn’t seen any evidence to support that claim. Even all these years later, I still wake up almost every morning with a very wet diaper. To make matters worse, when I am even the least bit sick (mild fever, a cold, the flu, etc.) I wet constantly and have to wear daytime diapers everywhere—which, at age twelve, meant wearing them to school. So far, I had been lucky that no one, except for my best friend Peter, knew about them.

“Let go of me!” Willie screeched indignantly as I pulled him away from his intended hiding place. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

Winnie, who knew the game was up, stood silently by the bed.

“You’re sure not acting like it,” I pointed out.

He calmed down and stood next to Winnie. I couldn’t decide what to do. This seemed like a great opportunity for something. Did I dare try blackmail? They certainly didn’t want anyone to find out what they had been doing, did they?

“What are you doing, anyway?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Willie answered quietly.

“Yeah, nothing,” Winnie answered defiantly. “We’re gonna tell mom that you came into our room without permission.”

“And I’ll tell mom that you’ve been hiding diapers in your toy box and wearing them when nobody’s home,” I retorted.

“How do you know that’s where we hide them?” Winnie challenged.

Actually, I didn’t. I just guessed. Willie rolled his eyes at his younger brother’s gullibility.

“OK,” Willie said, “what do you want?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You know what I mean,” Willie said impatiently. “What do we have to do so that you won’t tell mom and dad?”

“Mon and dad!” Winnie cried as his eyes filled with tears. “You’re gonna tell mom and dad?”

“Don’t get excited,” I answered. (I actually felt a little sorry for them but I got over it quickly.) “I didn’t say I would tell mom and dad but… maybe you could do things to make sure that I don’t.”

“Like what?” Willie asked suspiciously.

“Uh, I don’t know,” I said hesitantly, “I’ll let you know. In the meantime, just make sure that you don’t bug me and my friends when they come over.”

I didn’t actually know what to do with this new secret but I sure didn’t want to blow it by making a spur-of-the-moment decision.

“That’s not a guarantee,” Willie complained.

“Yeah,” Winnie echoed defiantly. (I had to admit that the little kid had guts.)

“OK, I promise not to tell mom or dad anything right now. I’ll tell you tomorrow what I want.”

I spent most of the night trying to figure out what I wanted. I was smart enough to know that I shouldn’t ask for too much. If I pushed them too hard they might tell our parents some things that I didn’t want them to know. I decided on the old standby of blackmailers—money.”

We each received an allowance of two dollars a week, above and beyond what we could beg from our parents. I decided to ask for one dollar from each of them.

“One dollar!” they squealed. “That’s too much!”

“Yeah,” Winnie complained. “We need that money to wash our diapers.”

“Huh?” I reacted.

“”For the Laundromat,” he explained.

“You take the diapers out to wash them?” I asked in surprise. “Aren’t you afraid someone might see you.”

“We’ve got that all figured out,” Winnie said proudly. “We tell people that mom makes us wash the cleaning rags separately so that they won’t wreck our washing machine.”

Willie looked a little embarrassed at Winnie’s explanation.

“Oh,” I said. “How much do you spend each week?”

“About seventy-five cents,” Willie answered.

“OK,” I relented, “pay me fifty cents each and I’ll throw your diapers in with mine when I wash them.”

For the last year or so, I had been assigned the job of washing my own diapers. I actually liked it this way. Even in front of my mom and dad I was very embarrassed about them; the fewer people who touched them, the better. Also, since this was the only chore I was given to do around the house I felt like I was ahead of the game. They conferred for a few seconds and agreed.

“There’s just one other thing,” I said as they looked at me suspiciously. “Why do want to wear my old diapers?”

Willie turned bright red and Winnie looked down at the floor.

“I don’t know,” Winnie said in a small voice. “It’s just for fun.”

I didn’t get it.

*****

For the first couple of weeks everything went according to plan. Willie and Winnie used only about three diapers each because they didn’t have much time alone in the house (even though alone now included any time I was in the house with them without our parents or Elaine). The third week, however, things changed. Our mom received a big assignment that would require her to work until five or six o’clock for the next month. Elaine and I were assigned the job of making sure that Willie and Winnie were watched every afternoon. We begged mom to hire a babysitter but she wouldn’t hear of it. Disaster struck on the very first day of this new routine: Elaine was picked to be in the school play and she would be at daily rehearsals until five o’clock for at least five weeks and most of the day on Saturdays. (Personally, I think she made some of that up so that she could stay out of the house as much as possible.)

“It’s not fair,” I complained to my mom. “Why do I have to be here every day with Willie and Winnie?”

“I’m sorry, Wade,” my mom said, “but it can’t be helped. Dad and I will make it up to you, I promise.”

I didn’t see how they could but I still had no choice. Willie and Winnie were delighted; they would get lots of alone time every school day. By the end of the week, they had ten diapers for me to do.

“Look, guys,” I said wrinkling my nose at the smell emanating from the bag they handed me, “you have to take better care of your diapers and stuff.”

I showed them how to add rubbing alcohol to the bag in which they kept their diapers (to keep down the smell).

“Have you been washing your plastic pants every day?” I asked.

“No,” Willie admitted. “We’re afraid that mom might see them while they’re drying.”

“You have more than ten plastic pants?” I asked in disbelief.

They showed me their collection. I was amazed at how much of my stuff they had amassed. They had about two dozen diapers and almost as many plastic pants.

We loaded their diapers into the washer and hand washed and rinsed the plastic pants. I let them use my drying rack and reminded them that they would have to be removed before our mom came home.

“You should be doing this every day and not letting them pile up. Before you know it they’ll have a pee smell that you’ll never get rid of.”

“Thanks,” Willie said sincerely.

(This almost made me feel guilty about taking their money but I once again successfully fought back the feeling.)

A little while later I was in my room listening to the radio when Winnie came racing in. I whipped off my headphones, ready to yell at him for coming into my room.

“Mom’s home,” he said.

“Shit!” I exclaimed.

“And she moved the diapers from the washer into the drier. I think she saw the plastic pants, too.”

“Double shit!”

“Wade! Can I see you for a minute?” my mom called up the stairs.

“Yeah, OK,” I answered nervously.

“I’ll tell mom it’s our fault,” Winnie offered.

“Not yet,” I answered. “Let me see what she wants first.”

“Wade,” my mom said, more than a little annoyed, “what’s with those diapers and plastic pants in the laundry room?”

I didn’t expect her to be so blunt. I was taken by surprise and didn’t answer, although I could feel my face getting hot.

“Look, honey,” she said softening her voice. “I know that you hate having to wear diapers every night but you’ve still got to let dad and me know when you need new ones. Those plastic pants are so small they must be cutting off your circulation.”

“Well, I, … I guess so,” I stammered.

“I’ll call Mrs. Morrison and see if she has bigger diapers and plastic pants in stock. And,” she added, “don’t let them pile up so much before washing them.”

I went back up to my room. Willie and Winnie joined me right away.

“Well?” Willie asked.

“It’s OK. Mom doesn’t suspect a thing. She thinks that I’ve been wearing those diapers and plastic pants myself. She’s just a little bit annoyed that I didn’t ask for new ones.”

“Really?” Winnie exclaimed.

“Yeah, really,” I assured him. “Since I’ve been diapering myself and taking care of my own laundry I guess mom has forgotten what my stuff looks like. She’s calling Mrs. Morrison to get me some bigger sizes.”

“Can Winnie and me have your old diapers and plastic pants when your new stuff comes?”

“Yeah, sure. Why not?” I laughed. “But they’ll probably be too big for you.”

“Maybe too big for Winnie, but they’ll be just right for me,” Willie answered. “The ones we have now are getting too small for me.”

I still didn’t get it.

*****

I got my new diapers and plastic pants the very next day. Actually, it was probably time for me to get new ones anyway. As soon as I put them on, I realized how much more comfortably they fit. There was a knock at my door.

“Who is it?”

“Winnie and me,” Willie answered. “Can we come in?”

I thought I knew what they wanted—they wanted to see my new diapers and plastic pants. I let them in.

“Cool,” they giggled.

I could see the anticipation in Willie’s eyes; he could hardly wait to take possession of my old ones.

“Here,” I said, handing him three diapers and plastic pants. “You’ll get the rest later.”

From the way his face lit up, I was beginning to get it.

*****

Another week went by. I was beginning to enjoy my brothers’ antics when they wore their diapers and plastic pants. I found it fascinating that they acted so free and happy. They sensed my approval and tried to coax me into joining them, but I wouldn’t. Wearing diapers was totally different for me. For one thing, it wasn’t voluntary and I wasn’t about to wear them one minute longer than I absolutely had to. But, fate intervened and I came down with a cold. There seemed no doubt that I would be in diapers all week. This led to renewed coaxing from my brothers. They begged me to take off my regular pants and join them in wearing just diapers and plastic pants. I remained inflexible and refused.

I was feeling so much better by Wednesday that I hoped the next day would be the last day I would have to wear my daytime diapers. I came home from school and went to my room to change. My brothers must have been listening at the door because as soon as I pulled up my plastic pants they stormed in. I knew that they were just playing so I joined in. Willie tackled me while Winnie ran out of the room with my pants. I quickly fought Willie off and went in pursuit of Winnie. He was in the family room trying to look innocent while he watched TV.

“OK, squirt. Where are my pants?” I asked.

“What pants?” he snorted.

“Oh… so that’s the way it’s going to be,” I said smiling. “Tell me where they are… or else…” I threatened.

He knew what my ‘or else’ would be—I would tickle him until he told me what I wanted to know.

“Go ahead,” he said while trying to escape. “I still won’t tell.”

I had barely started tickling him when his giggles because full-blown laughs.

“Willie! Help!” he called.

Willie jumped me and Winnie escaped. They took advantage of the situation and wrestled me to the ground. A couple of years ago I could have easily fought them off, but not anymore. Despite my best efforts, I found that I could only fight off one of them at a time. I was on the verge of surrendering when a voice made us all freeze in place—our mom’s.

“What in the world…?” she asked.

Winnie made a sound something like that of a puppy whose paw has been stepped on while Willie and I became absolutely silent. I didn’t immediately think that my brothers had just gotten caught wearing diapers. I was simply embarrassed that my mom had caught me downstairs in my diaper.

“Well…?” she prompted in an impatient voice. “I’m waiting.”

We were all tongue-tied. Willie and Winnie pulled at their shirts, trying to hide their plastic pants. I had stood up behind them and looked guiltily at the floor. I didn’t know if we were in big trouble or not.

“Well …,” our mom repeated in a louder voice.

“I came home from school and changed into a dry diaper and Winnie took my pants and hid them. I was trying to find out where they were,” I explained.

“That’s not what I’m asking about,” she answered. “Willie, what’s going on?”

“Wade made each of us pay him fifty cents a week not to tell you and dad,” he blurted out.

My mom looked momentarily confused but continued on, “We’ll get to that later. (My heart sank.) How come you’re wearing Wade’s diapers?”

“Because we want to,” Winnie answered. “Me and Willie have been playing with them for a long time.”

Willie turned toward Winnie, a look of horror on his face. My mom’s reaction was totally unexpected.

“I see. Well, in that case I see no reason to stop you. Show me your supplies.”

We all went up to my brothers’ room. They piled their diapers and plastic pants on their beds. She went through them and pulled out everything that she considered beyond use. This still left them with about half.

“I’ll contact Mrs. Morrison to get you more,” she said.

Willie and Winnie looked at each other in amazement. They could hardly believe that mom was going to allow them to continue playing their diaper games.

“Now, put all your underpants on the bed, too.”

“Huh? What… what for?” Willie sputtered.

“You won’t need them if you’re wearing diapers all the time.”

“But we don’t wear diapers all the time!” Willie tried to explain.

“Get them,” mom said coldly.

I saw tears pool in Willie’s eyes. I wondered if he was thinking of his friends and what they would say when they found out. I really felt bad for him. Winnie, on the other hand, didn’t seem the least bit troubled.

“You too, Wade,” my mom said.

“Huh? Me? What?” I asked with a sinking feeling.

“Get your underpants, too. You won’t be needing them either,” she answered.

“But I didn’t do anything!” I shouted.

“Want do you call extorting money form your brothers?” she asked with arched eyebrows.

“But, they were paying seventy-five cents a week at the Laundromat; I’m the one who’s been washing their diapers! They owed me!”

As soon as it was out of my mouth, I knew that I had made a serious mistake. I could tell that my mom had just figured something out.

“So, whose diapers and plastic pants were those in the laundry room a few weeks ago?”

“Willie and Winnie’s,” I answered.

“So you not only extorted money from your younger brothers, you also lied to me.”

She had us nailed—completely and absolutely. I brought my underpants into my brothers’ room.

“You are to stay dressed exactly as you are until dad comes home. If you need a change, ask. Do not change yourselves. Is that clear?”

I stormed off to my room and slammed the door. My stupid brothers! This was their fault. Why did they want to wear my diapers anyway? My last hope was that our mom wasn’t serious about her threats. Maybe she just wanted to scare us. I brooded over these things for some time. I was interrupted by a knock at my door.

“What?” I asked peevishly.

“Winnie needs his diaper changed and mom sent me to get your changing pad,” Willie explained.

I opened the door and let him in.

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Find it yourself,” I said peevishly. Then, realizing that I didn’t want him looking through all my stuff, I added, “In the closet… on the top shelf.”

It had been more than a year since I started changing myself so I hadn’t needed it. I blushed when I saw it. The plastic pad was covered with teddy bears and balloons. I groaned inwardly at the thought of once again being changed on such a babyish object. My stupid brothers!

*****

Our mom made us do our homework in the dining room where she could keep an eye on us. After we were done, she had us set the table and then go to the den to watch TV. I wanted to say something nasty to my brothers, but I was afraid of what mom would do if we started fighting. Willie and I sullenly watched the program that Winnie had picked. I was really irritated that Winnie didn’t seem the least bit upset by what was happening to us. Every time he laughed at his program, I wanted to sock him.

Our dad came home and wasn’t at all surprised to see us sitting there in plastic pants and wet diapers. Mom must have called him while he was still at work.

“I see that you managed to get yourselves into quite a bit of trouble with mom,” he said.

I don’t think that dad did this on purpose, but whenever we got into trouble he always started out sounding like he might be on our side. Experience had taught us, though, that he always sided with our mom. We also knew that he expected us to answer him… and without hesitation.

“Yes, dad,” we dutifully answered.

“You’ve stumped me on this one,” he continued. “I don’t know where to start. You’ve been doing things behind our backs, extorting money, and lying. We’ll discuss this after dinner.”

What he really meant was that he and mom would discuss it and then they would tell us our punishment. It wasn’t fair.

“Right now, it looks like you two could use a diaper change,” he said to Willie and me.

Willie went first. He didn’t seem at all unhappy about dad changing him. In fact, he sounded sincere when he thanked dad for putting him into a dry diaper. On the other hand, I felt totally humiliated as dad took off my plastic pants and diaper. I blushed with shame when he commented that I had gone too long without asking to be changed. Everything he did—washing my diaper area, rubbing powder on me, pinning up my diaper, and pulling on my plastic pants—made me feel like a two-year old.

Mom explained the situation to Elaine when she came home from play practice. I could sense that, like me a few weeks ago, she was trying to figure out how she could use this situation to gain advantages over us. For the time being, all she said was that we looked cute in our diapers.

Dinner was quiet. Mom and dad avoided the subject of our punishment except for mom’s side comment that Mrs. Morrison had diapers and plastic pants ready for pick up after dinner. We put the dishes in the dishwasher like we always did and then mom told us to get into the car.

“Like this?” I screeched. “What about our pants?”

“We’re only going to Mrs. Morrison’s. Now, get going. I won’t repeat myself.”

We meekly got into the car. Willie and I were a bundle of nerves, afraid that someone would see us. Mom parked in Mrs. Morrison’s driveway and we got out. I had hoped that it would be dark by the time we arrived but it was barely dusk. We were about halfway to the door when a voice called out from behind us.

“Hi, Willie.”

My brother turned around open-mouthed.

“Terrell!”

Terrell was his best school friend. At the moment, though, he didn’t look it. He had a smirk on his face that radiated pure malevolence. At the same moment, Mrs. Morrison opened her door to us.

“Terrell, I think it’s time for you to go home,” she said.

“See you in school, tomorrow,” he said to Willie, the whole time keeping that smirk on his face.

Willie burst into tears as soon as he walked into Mrs. Morrison’s living room. He was not only embarrassed; he was enraged. He rejected my mom’s attempt to console him and accused her of setting him up. I guess mom knew that talking to him would be useless so she ignored his accusation and turned her attention to Mrs. Morrison. Our order was sitting on the worktable in her sewing room. There must have been at least five-dozen diapers and about half that number of plastic pants (mostly for Willie and Winnie). There were also several dozen thick strips of diaper cloth.

“Those are called soakers or diaper doublers,” Mrs. Morrison said in response to my unspoken question. “They double the capacity of your diaper without increasing the bulk very much.”

“In other words,” our mom explained, “you won’t need as many diaper changes.”

Willie, who had calmed down somewhat, burst into tears again. Mom gave me the keys and told Winnie and me to take the new stuff out to the car. Once again, Winnie was really irritating by the way he didn’t seem to care that we might be seen. When we got home, mom let Willie have it. She was really mad that he accused her of setting him up. Willie seethed with anger and stormed up to his room as soon as she was finished. As of yet, we had not heard what our punishment would be, except that we would be wearing diapers twenty-four hours a day, every day. Mom and dad spent some time talking privately on the patio before they announced their decision to Winnie and me. (Willie refused to come out of his room.)

“First of all,” my dad said to me, “you will pay back all the money you took from your brothers.”

“OK,” I answered.

“Next,” he added,” you are all grounded for one month with the usual rules, except for one new one. When you come home from school you may change each other’s diapers only if Elaine or mom aren’t home yet. Otherwise, only Elaine, mom, or me are to change you.”

“Why is Elaine allowed to change us?” I griped.

“Because it appears that you can’t be trusted to do things responsibly,” my mom interjected.

“Lastly, you will be responsible for washing all the diapers,” my dad said to me. “You and Willie,” he said to Winnie, “are to take care of all the plastic pants.” “These chores are to be done daily as soon as you come home from school. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” we answered together.

“What about school?” I asked timidly.

“What about it?” dad answered.

“Will you write me a note to get me out of PE?”

Usually, when I was sick and had to wear diapers my mom wrote a note saying that I was to be excused for a certain period of time. It also occurred to me that I would have to tell Peter that I couldn’t play baseball anymore.

“I’ll write a note,” my mom answered.

With that, we were brought upstairs and prepared for bed. Since we were grounded we also had an earlier bedtime. Willie was still quite upset but he allowed himself to be changed.