• True Story
• Length: 2160 words; ≈11 min read
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• Rating: 4.91 (100 voted)

When I was nine I went camping with my family, Aunt and Uncle, and cousins off in the mountains for almost two weeks. At the time I had a growing problem with bed wetting that had been causing me lots of heartache. Mom had been patient, insisting that I just let her know when I'd had an accident so that we could wash sheets. Of course I was very ashamed so a lot of the time I tried to cover it up or hide my wet sheets, which mostly just landed me in trouble. Mom had been getting me up at night to pee, something I rarely remembered happening. It sometimes worked. Besides that she had me sleep on a washable mattress pad. I refused to have rubber sheets on my bed again and Mom didn't push the issue. Of course on the very first night of our trip I wet my bed in our trailer. The little mattress pad did little to help. With no washing machine we had to wash my sleeping bag, sheets, pajamas and even the foam trailer mattress by hand in the camp site. Then dry them on a line for the entire day. I vividly recall wringing out the green foam over and over, holding back tears. There was no hiding what had happened and since I was the oldest of the six kids there, I was especially devastated. But every kid wets the bed sometimes right? If I could stop it there then my cousins surely wouldn't think any less of me. The second night I was careful not to drink a drop. Mom got me up to pee twice that night and I was so scared of peeing in my sleep that I was still awake the first time she came. Come morning though I had wet again. I had thought washing my pee soaked sheets in the middle of camp by hand the first time was humiliating, here I was the very next morning, repeating the process, and letting everyone know that it hadn't been a one off. That afternoon my Dad went to town. We were a ways from the nearest large town so he was gone for some time. When he got back Mom and dad took me into the trailer and sat me down. They had bought a rubber sheet. I wasn't surprised, in fact I was relieved. However that wasn't the end of it. They had also bought me some Goodnites. I hadn't even heard of them before. Back then Goodnites were a fairly new product and weren't sold everywhere. They tried to tell me that Goodnites were basically just special underwear but they weren't any different from the pull-ups my four year old brother wore to bed whenever we went camping. They asked me if I would wear the Goodnites and I flat out said no. But they were only asking to be polite, so that they wouldn't have to force me back into a diaper. Mom and Dad insisted and I relented. I normally wore just boxer shorts to bed when it was warm, and it was blazing hot that trip. So that was all I had to wear over top of my new diaper. The Goodnites, at that time were plain white, bulky, and had a high waist that sat up above my belly button. The top stuck out above my boxers so I had to hike them up really high so nobody would see the waistband of my diaper. That just made the bulkiness more apparent though. I decided to wear a T-shirt too. My seven year old sister noticed the change and coyly kept asking why I was wearing a shirt to bed. She obviously had figured out I was wearing a diaper and was teasing me in the subtlest way she could without catching heck from my parents. Technically I wasn't the only kid in diapers. My four year old brother wore pull-ups to bed when we were away from home. My cousins were six, five, and two, so I knew at least the youngest wore diapers, possibly the others too. That was hardly solace though considering I was nine. The Goodnites worked, mostly. The first two nights with them I absolutely soaked them, small amounts of pee leaked out around my legs and along the waist, getting my shirt wet and getting the mattress pad damp. Mom was visibly frustrated by this each morning, and I was thankful only that we didn't have to stand outside washing everything again. Although there were no leaks the following night, Mom was determined to prevent leaks altogether. That night she asked me to put on my Goodnite and nothing else and come out to see her. Laying on the bed was an old towel curiously folded into a triangle that reminded me of a paper airplane. On the counter were a box of safety pins, that's when I clued into what was happening. Mom called it "a little extra protection", but I knew it was a classic cloth diaper. Wearing just my Goodnite, which was embarrassing enough, I took my seat on the diaper as instructed. I laid back as Mom pulled the towel up between my legs. It was even higher than my Goodnite! She told me I was probably too skinny for Goodnites, that's why they were leaking. I did indeed resemble a bean pole, just skin and bones. The Goodnites may have been made for kids my age, but not for kids as scrawny as I was. With that theory in mind she snugged up the towel as tight as she could around my legs and waist. It was almost absurdly tight, and certainly wasn't comfortable. I stood up and turned completely red, the cloth diaper was huge! Mom grinned and said I looked cute and reminded me it was only for a few more nights, she'd get me some plastic pants when we got home. That was when it occurred to me that this trip wouldn't be the last time I'd wear Goodnites. I was too scared to ask if those plastic pants she mentioned were just for camping and sleeping away from home or if I was going to be wearing diapers every night, even at home in my own bed! I then realized that I was wearing a massive towel around my crotch, and there was no way anyone wasn't going to see that under a little pair of boxer shorts. I couldn't even get my boxers over the diaper. Instead Mom fished out one of Dad's shirts and let me wear it. I was reminded that boys can wear nightgowns too but it sure felt girly wearing the same thing as my sister, who was literally wearing one of Dad's old shirts too. It would have to do though. It was enough to convince me nobody noticed my diaper as we sat around the fire drinking hot chocolate and eating marshmallows. In hindsight I realize that everyone must have known. I at least got to drink hot chocolate though! Every other night I'd had to say "none for me thanks" even though Mom specifically avoided offering me any. Keeping up the charade that my secret wasn't plain as day I think was pretty much only for my benefit. I really figured for the longest time that my siblings and even friends never caught on to my bedwetting. Even as I got older and realized I had probably been found out I always managed to trick myself, thinking that they probably knew I had been a bedwetter but think that I stopped. Really, all these friends and relatives who I was sure would rat me out at school if they ever had an inkling were the most noble and loyal safeguards of my dignity. Of course even today I wince at the thought of even mentioning having been a bedwetting late into my childhood, despite the years that have passed. Sitting there drinking my hot chocolate it suddenly occurred to me that I had to pee. What exactly was I supposed to do, I thought, Mom hadn't told me! The boys always went off to the bush at the edge of camp to pee when we were camping, but that clearly wouldn't work. I squirmed a bit trying to come up with a plan and finally decided to go to the trailer. As I passed Mom though she took my arm and whispered in my ear. She told me to just go in my diaper. That was the first time she even called it a "diaper". She assured me it would not leak, and that she didn't want to dress me a second time that night. I paused in confusion. I couldn't exactly just stand there and pee myself with everyone around. Mom knew what I was thinking though and told me to just go out to the trees like I normally would and pretend I was pulling my boxers down. I listened, gingerly going out to the trees I stood there, my back to the group, lifted the front of my oversized shirt, and peed right into my Goodnite and diaper. Sure enough it didn't leak. The Goodnite wasn't even full, nor did it spill any into the towel since I was peeing straight into it. I returned to my chair around the fire, feeling ashamed. Without limiting my fluids in the evenings I woke up each morning having emptied a full bladder and then some into my diaper. Mom just loaded each damp towel into a garbage bag to wash when we got home, then dressed me in a new one each evening. She discussed me wearing Goodnites at home, and told me, without any option, that I'd certainly be wearing them any time I wasn't sleeping at home. I just asked her not to let my sister and brother know. Mom diapered me in a towel over my Goodnite for the last five nights of that trip. As I undid the pins on my diaper that last morning of our camping trip Mom knocked on the door. It was an nine and a half hour drive home, and even though we'd be taking lots of breaks, previous little accidents on road trips told Mom that maybe I should have a little protection on. Under the door she slid a Goodnite, asking me to wear it instead of my undies for the day. The whole day. She added that my brother would be wearing his pull-ups all day too. That wasn't new though and not very comforting. I asked if my sister would be too but was reminded that my sister never had accidents. Lucky her. So putting aside my briefs I slipped on a Goodnite once more. It fit under my shorts fairly well, although a little bulkiness was apparent. I wondered if this too would become a rule for road trips. Much to my chagrin I found myself nodding off in the hot and humid van and coming to peeing. Mom was right to make me wear diapers, I was absolutely accident prone. I was asleep when we got home, so Dad carried me to bed. I vaguely remember waking momentarily then nodding back to sleep. Coming to once more. I was laying on my bed, naked from the waist down with Mom slipping a fresh Goodnite over my raised ankles and sliding it down my legs. The last time she ever diapered me. She prompted me to raise my bum when she got to it, I listened, half aware, then nodded back to sleep. That morning I woke up wearing nothing but the soaked Goodnite and looked across the bedroom at my little brother in his bed. He wore nothing but Mickey Mouse print briefs, and they mocked me. Later that day Mom had me unpack the remainder of my Goodnites and make some space for them in my underwear drawer. For the next two years I'd wear them nearly every night, and for another two years after that the left side of my underwear drawer always had fresh Goodnites for special circumstances or bad spells of accidents. I grew to appreciate them even if I was always ashamed and secretive about wearing diapers. Part of me wishes I hadn't had to go through such an ordeal before being put back in diapers. Had Mom made her decision to have me wear something back when I first started bedwetting I would have been wearing diapers to bed at seven, and might not have been so against them when the time came at nine. Ironically my little brother wore Goodnites off and on until he was ten or so, never seeming to mind to much. He probably knew his big brother had done it, or was still doing it, and didn't feel so ashamed. So I'm glad at least someone didn't have to suffer as much.