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The Star Chart

The sun was shining brightly through my bedroom window on that late September morning. The dog had just landed on my chest with her usual good morning greeting. Her wet nose made contact with my lips and her tongue went to work washing my face.

"Get down, Goldy," I shouted. And she complied immediately. Goldy was my golden retriever. She had been trained by professionals and it was only by accident that we had her. She reacted almost instantly to all of my commands. She seated herself on the throw rug that was located on the side of my bed. Her tail wagged with anticipation. She was waiting for my feet to hit the floor before she renewed our good morning ritual.

I rolled over on my back, stretched and thought about my life. Thought about how nice it was to be a teenager. Thought about my eighth grade class at Northeast Jr. High School, and I thought about my family. My dad, my mom and my sisters. Heather was eight and Mary was rapidly approaching three. I thought about what I had planned for today when my focus suddenly shifted back to the present.

"Damn." I thought. "Damn. Damn. DAMN." I muttered to no one but myself. I had done it again. I had wet the bed. Mom had tried many things over the years to help me stop wetting but nothing had worked. She tried restricting fluids, had me do bladder-stretching exercises, tried raising the foot of the bed, conversely, tried raising the headboard. She had also tried getting me up several times in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. But still, nothing had worked. Mom had even taken me to see several doctors. (Which was a hardship on the family because we were so poor and didn't have any health insurance) The doctors had told her that there was nothing wrong with me physically and that eventually, I would outgrow it. They suggested that she just be patient and wait it out. The last time mom took me to see a doctor was two years ago. I was eleven at the time. She had made an appointment for me at a place called the Enuresis Clinic.

We arrived at the clinic a little early on the day of the appointment and were informed that due to a medical emergency the doctor had been delayed but that she would be with us shortly. Because of the delay, the waiting room was packed with children and their mothers. I noticed that I was surrounded by kids that were a lot younger than I was. I listened as the mothers talked to one another about the "cures" that they had inflicted on their children and I listened to them complain about how much work it was to have a bedwetter in the house. I also noted the sidewise glances that I was getting from some of the mothers and from some of the kids as well.

One of the mothers was having trouble with her son. It was apparent that he did not want to be here and that he was on the verge of throwing a tantrum. His mother grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around facing me. I heard her whisper to him, "Do you still want to be wetting the bed when you're that old?" she asked, pointing at me. I know that she didn't mean for me to hear the comment, bit I did. And so did everybody else in the room.

The room fell silent and for a moment all eyes were on me. The woman who had made the comment looked up at me and we made eye contact. I blushed, she followed suit and then we both looked at the floor. Mom could tell how embarrassed and hurt I was by the comment but said nothing. The woman's son stared at me for a moment longer and then quietly sat down. A few seconds later the women in the room resumed talking about their "cures." I was still staring down at the floor when I felt a little tear crawl across my cheek and fall with a splash to the floor.

Ten minutes later we were called into the exam room. Other than the doctor treating me as if I were a five year old, the exam was uneventful. The doctor said that she would notify us of the results. It was a week later when she finally called. The tests showed nothing remarkable. Nothing was physically wrong with me. The doctor then told mom that she had, had cases where the child was just too lazy to get up and go to the bathroom. It was at this point that mom informed me that she would no longer try to cure my bedwetting. She also indicated that when I had an accident, it was my responsibility to put my wet night clothes and sheets in the washing machine to be washed.

Over the past two years my bedwetting had decreased substantially and I was beginning to hope that it would soon stop altogether. For some unknown reason, within the last month my incidents of bedwetting had increas4ed. I could tell by mom's facial expressions that her patience with me was running out. All of this flashed through my mind as I lay there in my wet bed.

"Wade, time to get up," Mom called. "If you don't get moving you'll be late for school," she continued.

I sprang into action. I jumped from the bed, gave the dog a hug, stripped the bed, removed my wet night clothes and dropped everything in a pile on the floor. I wiped down the plastic sheet, (I hated the plastic sheet. It wasn't really a sheet at all but a large piece of plastic that we recovered from a downed weather balloon. It was thick plastic and its edges were sharp. I had sustained small cuts from it on more than one occasion and the creases in the plastic made sleeping on it miserable to impossible. I had asked mom for a real rubber sheet but she had told me that we could not afford it. Because it was so uncomfortable to sleep on, I had removed it from my bed on more than one occasion. The result was several large stains in the mattress)I ran to the shower.

After a quick shower I went back to my room, picked up all my wet things and headed for the laundry room. (The laundry room was in the basement and in order to get there I had to go through the kitchen) Mom was in the kitchen standing by the refrigerator talking to Mary.

"Was my big girl dry last night?" She quizzed Mary.

"Yes, momma," Mary responded.

Mom then pulled down Mary's rubber pants and checked her night diapers. Finding them dry mom said "Hooray! What color star would you like today, Mary?"

Mom held a little dish of stars out in front of Mary and Mary picked a gold one. Mom then picked Mary up and together they placed the star on the calendar. The date was September 28. Mom congratulated Mary again, set her on the floor and said, "Lets go get your big girl pants on." Mary ran down the hall and into her bedroom.

Mom looked up at me and said, "Good morning Wade." She then followed up with a question. "Isn't this the third time this week that you have had an accident?"

"No mom," I replied. "This is only the second time," I lied. Mom looked at me with a questioning look but said nothing. She then turned and walked down the hall towards Mary's room. Looking over her shoulder she said, "Better get on with your chores." And then she continued with a statement that sent shudders up and down my spine. "And we'll talk about this later."

After dinner on the night of September 30th. mom called me into the kitchen. She was standing in front of the refrigerator, taking down the Star Chart for the month of September and putting up a new Star Chart for the month of October.

"I have decided to chart your bedwetting progress," she stated pointing to the Chart. "As you can see, each date for the month of October has been divided in half. The top half is for Mary and the bottom half is for you. As soon as you get up you are to come to the kitchen so that I can see if you are wet or dry. I will mark each date with either a "W" for wet or a "D" for dry. At the end of the month I will decide if we will continue to monitor your problem and determine if some other course of action is warranted. Do you understand me, young man?" She lectured.

Yes." I replied. As I knew that any other response would have negative consequences.

The following morning Goldy greeted me as usual. The sky was cloudy. The leaves on the trees were beginning to change color and my bed was wet. I stalled as long as possible but I knew it was useless. Down the hall and into the kitchen I walked. Mom and Mary were just finishing putting a green star on the chart. Mom took one look at me, picked up a black marking pen and put a big "W" in the bottom square of the October 1st slot.

"OK Wade, go shower and get dressed," was all that she had to say to me. That is the way it went day in and day out. Some days I was wet and some days dry. On October 23rd mom marked another big "W" on the calendar, looked at me and said, "Wade, you have been wet eleven out of the last twenty-three days. I'm beginning to think that the doctor may have been right when she said that you are just being lazy. Even your little sister is doing better than you are. Please try harder."

On Saturday the 25th of October I once again woke up wet. After her usual greeting, Goldy waited for me to get out of bed. I started walking down the hall with Goldy hot on my heals. I was about to enter the kitchen when I heard voices. I slowed my walk an then stopped to listen. Mom was talking to Kathy. (Kathy was the girl who lived next door. We were in the same eighth grade class in school. We didn't like each other very much but mom was very fond of Kathy) I peeked around the corner. Kathy had Mary in her arms and she was telling Mary what a good girl she was for staying dry. Mary picked out a blue star and Kathy pasted it in the bottom half of the October 25th square.

"That's not where it goes," Mary protested. "That's Wades spot."

"Wades spot?" Kathy asked looking at my mom.

Mom hesitated for a moment and then said, "Wade still wets the bed." This was one of the few times that mom ever told anyone outside the family that I wet the bed. She always tried to keep knowledge of my problem within the family. I could feel my cheeks go red. I was dying from embarrassment.

"Really?" Kathy asked with a smirk on her face. "My five year old brother Ronnie still wets the bed. My mom makes him wear night diapers. Does Wade wear night diapers, too?"

"No," my mother replied. "Wade hasn't worn a diaper since he was three years old."

I turned around with the intent of going back to my bedroom. Heather walked into the hall from her room. "Good morning, Wade." She said.

Mom heard the greeting and called, "Wade, come into the kitchen will you?"

"MOM!" I protested.

"Right now, Wade," she insisted.

I knew that any hesitation would be a mistake so I walked into the kitchen in my wet pajamas. Goldy was still on my heals. Kathy looked at me, saw the wet spot and stifled a giggle. Mom looked at me with a disappointed look and turned to Kathy.

"Would you care to update the Star Chart?" Mom asked Kathy.

"Sure, Mrs. Johnston. I would be glad to," Kathy said with glee. Turning to me, Kathy then said. "Let me see. There seems to be an error on the Start Chart. There is a blue star in your square and there should be a big "W". Isn't that right Wade?" She asked.

I hesitated and mom interjected, "Answer her, Wade."

"Ye..ye..ye..yes." I stuttered. With that, Kathy pried the star off of the chart with her little fingernail and using a felt tip marking pen, marked my square with a big black "W". She then commented on how may "W's" I had on the chart and noted that Mary was doing better than I was. Kathy then put a new star in Mary's square.

"Now go get showered and dressed for the day," Mom said.

After my shower, I dressed and gathered up my wet nightclothes and sheets and made a beeline for the basement. Mom and Kathy were sitting at the kitchen table talking. Kathy stifled another giggle as I hurried by. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and listened for a moment.

"My mom says its a lot less work to keep Ronnie in night diapers. Mom also says that as long as Ronnie wets the bed, he will be wearing diapers," Kathy said. "Mrs. Johnston, wouldn't it be a lot less trouble if you just put Wade back in night diapers?"

"I considered putting Wade back in diapers in the past but at his age I don't think that diapers are an option," Mom responded. "Besides, Wade is close to stopping." Mom looked over at the Star Chart and sighed. She knew that what she had just said was nothing more than wishful thinking.

Kathy got up and walked toward the door. She turned and said, "Goodbye Mrs. Johnston." A second later Kathy stated, "I still think that if Wade is going to act like a baby that you should treat him like one and put him back in diapers."

"Thank you, Kathy." Mom said as Kathy closed the door behind her.

"You bitch!" I hissed so that no one could hear. I took my load of wet things to the laundry room and then went back to my room to ponder what had just happened.

On the 31st of October, at approximately 5:00 PM, I was summoned to the kitchen. Mom, Mary, and Heather were there. The October Start Chart was being replaced with the November Chart. I noticed that the new chart was no longer divided into two squares.

Mom began. "As you can see, Wade, the dates on the chart are no longer divided in half. That is because Mary has now been dry for more than two weeks now and I think that she will stay dry from now on. Starting tomorrow, there will be no more diapers for Mary. She will be wearing big girl panties both day and night."

Mom and heather congratulated Mary, gave her a hug and told her what a big girl she was. Mom also suggested (demanded actually) that I congratulate Mary too. (which I did)

"You are now the sole owner of the Star Chart," Mom stated. "The rules for you have not changed. You will present yourself here every morning for pants inspection. Don't you feel real proud or yourself?" She asked. "And furthermore, young man, you were wet sixteen out of thirty-one days in October. That's more than half of the time. Please try harder," Mom begged.

"Because if you can't come to grips with your bedwetting problem, then I will," she threatened.

Today is Saturday, November 15th. My dry bed success ratio has remained at a little less than 50%. Mary is doing very well, not one accident. Mom is very proud of her. She took what little savings we had and bought Mary a new bed. Mary's old crib and other baby items have been retired to the garage.

The plastic sheet (weather balloon) has been driving me crazy. It has become stiff and hard. I have had a hard time sleeping on it.

Last night I made a big mistake. I got angry because the plastic sheet had cut me again. I removed it from my bed and threw it on the floor. I then fell fast asleep and had an accident. This morning my mattress had a big wet spot in the middle of it. I tried to hide it from mom but she found it anyway. She was angrier than I have ever seen her. She had me haul my mattress out to the garage. It is leaning against Mary's old crib. I hope it will dry quickly.

I had just finished cleaning up around the yard, keeping as much distance between my mom and myself as I could. After putting the garden tools back in the garage where they belonged I decided to check on my mattress. Just as I was feeling the wet spot, mom walked into the garage.

Mom stared at me with a look that would make grown men quake.

"Is it dry?" she demanded. I hesitated and was about to answer her when Kathy walked into the garage.

"Hello, Mrs. Johnston," Kathy greeted mom. "My mom wants to know if she can borrow a cup of flour."

"Sure Kathy. Would you mind waiting for a moment? Wade and I have something to discuss," Mom said.

"Not at all," Kathy responded.

Mom thought for a moment and then turned to Kathy, "Look what my thirteen year old son has done to his mattress," Mom said pointing to the telltale wet spot.

Kathy's facial expression betrayed her contempt for my infantile behavior. She shook her head in disgust but said nothing.

Mom then turned her anger on me.

"You know that you're not supposed to remove the plastic sheet from your bed. Now look what you've done. Don't you think it's about time that you stopped wetting the bed? Do you know how expensive it is to replace a mattress? Do you even care?"

Mom was on a roll. For the next five minutes she lectured me on everything that I had ever done wrong in my short life. Kathy was listening intently to what my mother was saying and at the same time, she was going through the sacks that were stacked on the crib.

Finally, mom was beginning to simmer down. She was trying to find a punishment that would fit the crime. But she was so angry that she was having a difficult time finding the right words.

"I should... I should... I should." Mom always stuttered when she was angry. It was equivalent to some of the other mothers calling their children by all three of their names. She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts and then began again. "I should..."

"Put him back in diapers!" Kathy interjected.

Mom turned to look at Kathy. Kathy had found a sack that contained some of Mary's old cloth diapers. She was holding a handful of them out for my mother to take.

Mom turned and looked at Kathy for a moment. Without saying a word, Kathy extended the hand holding the diapers towards my mom.

"Why don't you mind your own business? You bitch!" I almost shouted.

For a moment, there was a silence so complete that you could have heard a pin drop. Mom looked at me with a shocked look on her face. Her facial expression then turned to one of rage. In less time that it takes to write this, a powerful slap from mom's right hand was delivered to the left side of my face. I reeled from the impact. Mom then grabbed my left hand with her right hand and started towards the house. Almost in mid-stride, mom changed direction and approached Kathy.

Mom held out her left hand to Kathy. For a second there was a look of confusion on Kathy's face and then a look of understanding. A smile graced Kathy's lips as she handed my mom a handful of diapers.

Just as quickly as we had changed direction one way, we reversed direction and entered the house. I was amazed at how strong my mother was. She pulled me along as effortlessly as she would have a toddler. We entered my room.

"Take off your clothes and lie down on the floor," she commanded.

I knew that this was no time to dawdle or argue so I complied without question. Goldy was going nuts. Mom had never treated me this way before and Goldy didn't know how to act. Mom grabbed Goldy by her collar and told me that she was going to put her outside. As she left the room she looked over her shoulder and reiterated that if I knew what was good for me I wouldn't have anything on by the time she got back.

About five minutes passed before mom reentered the room. She had two diaper pins in her mouth and she was folding a stack of diapers together.

"Lay down," she muttered. Her speech was muffled because of the diaper pins.

"But mo..." I never finished the sentence.

"Do as I tell you," Mom almost yelled. "And don't move."

As I lay on the cold floor, mom finished folding the diapers together. She told me to lift my butt up and after doing so, she slipped the very thick diaper under my bottom. She instructed me to sit and I lowered myself onto the waiting diaper. She then drew the diaper up between my legs and pulled the left rear corner up over the left front corner and pinned them together. She then pulled the rear right corner up and over the front right corner with such a force that it almost lifted me off of the floor. She then pinned the two right corners together. (Mom used to diaper Mary like this when she knew that she wasn't going to be able to change her diaper for a long period of time. It was not a good sign)

I burst into tears and mom said, "Stop that crying or I will really give you something to cry about." She helped me to my feet and sarcastically commented that it looked like her baby was well diapered. She took me by the hand, like any parent would do to a rebellious toddler, and we started walking towards the kitchen.

As we reached the bathroom, mom stopped for a moment, looked at me with a vengeful look on her face and then pulled me inside. She sat me on the toilet seat and instructed me not to move. She then went over to the sink and started running water into the basin. Mom had her back to me so I couldn't tell what she was doing.

"The diapers are for the wet mattress," she stated. "And this, young man, is for your bad language." Mom turned from the sink holding a lathered bar of soap in her hand.

"No mom," I pleaded. "Please don't," I begged. "I'm really sorry for what I said," I sobbed. "It won't happen again."

It was no use. Mom maneuvered herself into a position where my head was resting on her chest. She then tilted my head back slightly and ordered me to open my mouth. I opened my mouth slightly. Mom tilted my head back a little further and demanded that I "Open Wide" She hissed through clinched teeth. I did as I was told. Mom then thoroughly and vigorously washed my mouth out with the bar of soap.

The entire process took only a few moments but it seemed like an eternity. After mom removed the bar of soap from my mouth, I coughed, gagged and almost vomited.

I hadn't noticed the wet spot that had spread across the front of my diaper until mom said. "It looks like I got you back in diapers just in time." When I realized that I had wet my diapers, I started bawling like a two year old.

Mom then grabbed me by the hand and we continued our trip to the kitchen. I resisted her pull slightly and she delivered a swat to my diapered butt. I pleaded for her to let me wear something over my diapers so that no one else would see me like this. She responded by saying that I had been a member of this household long enough to know that most of the time, babies in this family wore nothing but diapers, tee shirts and baby pants. She then informed me that my status had been reduced from teenage son to baby boy. At this point, I could tell how useless resistance would be and followed her meekly.

Heather, Mary and Kathy were in the kitchen. They all exploded with laughter when I toddled in with nothing on but a very thick wet baby diaper. Once they quieted down, mom explained to all of them what had happened and demanded that I apologize to Kathy for calling her names.

"I'm sorry, Kathy," I stammered between sobs. Soap suds dripped from my chin. Mom then took mercy on me and told me to go to my room for the rest of the day. As I was leaving the kitchen I heard mom ask Kathy if she would help her move some of the baby things back into the house. Kathy said that after she delivered the cup of flour that she had come over to borrow, she would be glad to.

I went to my room and cried for a long time. Finally, I wrapped myself up in a blanket and fell asleep on the floor. I was startled from my slumber by someone entering the room. Night had fallen and the room was dark.

"Wade?" Mom said in a cold and aloof manner as she switched on the overhead light. "I checked your mattress and it is dry. Please move it back into your bedroom."

I reached my feet in a slow and unsure manner. My stomach ached, my head hurt and my vision was blurred because of the sudden addition of light to the room. I shook my head to clear my vision, wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and headed for the garage. As I passed by mom, she grabbed the blanket and took it from me. Our eyes met for a moment. I wanted to see something in her eyes that would give me a glimmer of hope. There was nothing. Her gaze was cold and hard. My chin dropped to my chest in shame. Tears flowed from my eyes as freely as wine does at a French wedding. I continued to the garage. Kathy, Heather and Mary were watching TV in the living room. Kathy said something as I toddled by but I was unable to tell what it was. Getting the mattress into my room was a bit of a struggle but I managed to do it.

"Now make your bed and be sure to put the plastic sheet on it. I'll be back in a minute to check on you," Mom said as she left my room. I did as I was told.

When mom reentered the room she was carrying a plastic bag, scissors and a roll of duct tape. She set these items on my dresser and then checked the bed.

"OK, Wade, that will do nicely," she stated.

"Mom?" I said meekly.

"What do you want, Wade?" She said impatiently.

"I have to go to the bathroom," I whispered, dropping my head so that we would not make eye contact. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, mom took me by the hand and rushed me to the bathroom. When we got there, mom raised the toilet seat, removed one diaper pin, pulled my diaper down around my ankles and sat me on the toilet. "So go," She demanded.

"Mom," I said shyly. "I can't go with you standing there."

"Wade, if you have to go, then goes. You know that I don't leave babies alone in the bathroom." With that said, she took up a position just in front of me. Crossed her arms across her chest and began to tap her right foot impatiently. She then looked at me with a look that would have dried up an oasis. "Do you have to go or not?" She asked in a hostile tone. After another moment, mom took me by the arms and raised me to my feet. She then lifted the moist diaper from around my ankles and then pinned it back in place. She took me by the hand, led me back to my bedroom and stood me by the bed. Mom then went over to my dresser, picked up the plastic bag that she had left there and diagonally cut both the corners off of the bottom of the bag. She then handed me the bag and instructed me to put it on. I placed each of my feet through one of the holes in the bag and then pulled it up like it was a pair of my shorts. Mom then came over with the duct tape and secured the bag in place with two quick turns around my waist. "That should do until we can get you the real thing." She mocked. "Now go to bed."

I cried myself to sleep.

Today is Saturday, December 20th. I have now been back in diapers for a little over a month. The December Star Chart indicates that my diapers have been wet thirteen out of 20 days. When I get up in the morning I have to go to the kitchen for a diaper check. If my diapers are dry, mom makes me pick out a star for the chart. If they are wet, she marks the chart with a "WD". She treats me just like I was three years old and uses the same cheers I watched her use with Mary. Sometimes Heather and Mary will join in. I can't tell you how embarrassing it is to have my three-year-old sister congratulate me for having a dry diaper or for that matter criticizing me for having a wet one. Mom now insists that I refer to Mary and Heather as my "big sisters." My status has definitely been reduced to that of infant.

When my diapers are dry, mom will remove the diaper pins, pin them together and give them back to me. I then toddle down the hall to my room in a diaper that is only being held in place by my baby pants. Once I get to the room, I remove the baby pants and put them on the bed. I then place the dry diaper on top of the baby pants and put the diaper pins on top of the diaper. If I am wet, mom removes the diaper pins and keeps them. I toddle down the hall in a droopy diaper that is only being held in place by my baby pants. Once I get to my room, I remove the wet diaper and place it in the diaper pail that has found permanent residence in my room. I hang up the baby pants to dry and I head for the shower. After I am clean and dressed, I go to the kitchen and mom pins the diaper pins to my shirt. She told me that if anyone should ask me about the pins I am to tell them that they are for my night diapers and that this morning I woke up in a wet diaper.

Kathy has told the entire class about my bedwetting and my return to diapers. She has also told everyone why I have diaper pins pinned to my shirt. Comments like diaper boy or diaper baby are common. The girls whisper and giggle when I walk by. The boys in my class want nothing to do with me and are just as unkind with their comments as the girls are. My status in school is no better than my status at home. Kathy told the girls in the school that if they ask me why I have diaper pins pinned to my shirt that I would have to tell them.

One day a girl asked me about the pins and I refused to answer. I just walked away from her. Kathy told my mom about it and when I got home from school, mom spanked me, diapered me and made me spend the rest of the day in the playpen. Needless to say I now tell everyone why I have diaper pins pinned to my shirt.

Another weather balloon went down and we recovered enough plastic for a new plastic sheet. Mom took me down to the thrift store and I bought four pair of used super toddler baby pants for 15 cents each. I earned the money by selling pop bottles that I collected from the roadside. It was really embarrassing when she held every pair of baby pants she found up against me to see if they would fit. With one small pair she also commented that she didn't think that they would fit over my diapers. Mom also found a pair of training pants in one of the bins. She held them up to look at them when a woman with a two year old in toe commented that, that's what she had been looking for. Mom held the training pants up in front of me for sizing purposes, turned to the woman and handed her the training pants saying that she didn't think her baby was quite ready for these. My face turned a bright red. The woman looked at me with an amused look on her face, thanked my mother and continued looking through the bins.

The woman at the register noticed my diaper pins and wanted to know if the baby pants were for me. Mom was right behind me so I had no other choice than to say yes. Mom then spoke to the woman and stated in a voice that was loud enough for everyone in the store to hear, "My son wets the bed like a two year old, so he wears diapers to bed like a bedwetting two year old." Laughter filled the store. The woman with the two year old was standing behind mom in the check out line. She looked at mom and asked, "Why don't you teach him a lesson and make him wear diapers all the time." I blushed and looked at mom apprehensively. She smiled at me, patted me gently on the rear and said "Maybe I will."

My room now smells like a nursery. Baby powder and the smell of wet diapers fill the air. Goldy has relocated to Mary's room because of the smell. Mom kept adjusting the thickness of my diapers until she found a thickness that was functional for her "big baby". Mom folds eight Curity cloth diapers together to make one of my night diapers. She particularly likes the stretch style diapers. She tells me they fit very well and they seldom leak. They are so thick that they make me toddle like a toddler. One night I complained to mom and she told me that if I didn't like toddling, I could always crawl around the house in my diapers. Mom asked Kathy to tell her mother that she was right about diapers being less work than a wet bed.

At 7 o'clock sharp, each night, mom diapers me on the living room floor. She doesn't care who is there and when I complained about some of Heather's friends laughing at me she pointed out that babies aren't entitled to any privacy. And that all I had to do to get out of night diapers was to be dry every night for a week. "It's entirely up to you Wade." She said. (She also pointed out that dydee boys my size deserve to be laughed at.)

This morning I woke up wet again. As it is Saturday, I stayed in bed as long as I possibly could. Last Wednesday, mom told me that from now on if my night diaper was wet, I would have to stand in the corner for 30 minutes with nothing on but a wet diaper and think about how bad I had been. I got up and headed towards the kitchen. Mom wasn't there. I called down the hall to her and she said that she was busy and to let Mary check my diaper. Mary heard this and giggled. She started walking towards me and I backed away. There was no way I was going to let a three year old check my diaper. Mary complained to mom who said she didn't have time to deal with it. Just then the back door opened and in walked Kathy. Mary told her what was going on and mom asked Kathy if she would take care of the diaper check. The next thing I knew Kathy had her hand down the front of my diaper. "Mrs. Johnston" Kathy called. "Your baby is soaked." Both Mary and Kathy giggled at this comment and my face turned crimson.

"Kathy," mom called back. "Will you please handle this for me." Kathy smiled at me with an evil grin and said "Sure, Mrs. Johnston"

Kathy then took me by the hand and led me to the corner. She looked me in the eye and said, "Your mom told me about the new rule." She then pulled my baby pants down around my ankles exposing a very wet and saggy diaper.

"Your 30 minutes begin right now, diaper boy," Kathy stated with a malevolent smirk on her face.

About 10 minutes of corner time had passed when I felt a certain rumbling way down in my stomach. After two more minutes I was sure, I had to poop. I called out to mom. "Mom, I have to go to the bathroom."

Mom called back and said that there was no reason for me to leave the corner. At the 15-minute mark I was doing a potty dance and knew that there was no way I was going to last for another 15 minutes. At 20 minutes the pressure was too much to stand. I squatted down slightly and completely filled my diaper with poop. A minute later, mom, Kathy and Mary entered the living room.

Kathy looked at the rear of my diaper, turned to my mother and said, "It looks like your diaper boy has a bulge in the rear of his diaper."

Mom looked at me in surprise and shock and asked, "Did you go poop in your didee, little one?"

I didn't answer so mom came over and pulled the back of my diaper back and took a quick look. The smell alone answered her question. "You're right Kathy." Mom exclaimed. "My little one is a stinker." Mom and Kathy laughed at this and Mary giggled. With that, mom placed her hand on the back of my diaper right on top of the bulge. She pushed gently against the bulge.

"I'm really disappointed in you, Wade." Mom said. "I thought that I was through with diapers and now I find that I have a teenager with the potty habits of an untrained two year old.

Mom started talking again but was interrupted by Kathy. "Mrs. Johnston. "Kathy called from the kitchen. "How would you like me to enter this on Wades Star Chart?"

"Kathy," mom called out. " I only use a Star Chart when I am trying to potty train my kids and I don't think that Wade is either ready or interested in being potty trained. Please take the chart down and throw it in the trash. As of today, Wade will be put back in diapers full time and he will wear them until he earns his big boy pants back." I heard Kathy giggle and heard the sound of the chart being torn from the refrigerator. I heard the lid on the trash can open and shut.

"Kathy?" Mom called.

"Yes Mrs. Johnston?" Kathy responded.

"How good are you at changing diapers?" Mom asked.

"My mom has me diaper and change Ronnie," Kathy stated proudly.

"I may be in need of a babysitter some time soon. Are you interested?" Mom asked.

"I would be more than happy to sit for your 'big baby', Mrs. Johnston." Kathy exclaimed placing emphasis on the words "big baby."

I thought that I had been embarrassed in the past but this topped everything that I had ever experienced. I think I blushed from head to toe.

Mom laid me down on the floor and removed my baby pants from around my ankles. She removed one of my diaper pins and then she pulled the droopy diaper so tight that I was physically lifted off the floor. Before any of the tension could be lost, she expertly pinned the diaper in place.

She stood me up and removed my t-shirt. All I had on was a very dirty diaper and it was apparent that I would be in it for some time. She pressed my nose into the corner and told me not to move until she told me I could.

Silent tears overflowed from my eyes and fell to the carpet. What little pride I had left, had been stripped away and replaced with a white badge of shame. I had no idea how long my baby treatment would last but I knew that from this day forward, my life would never again be the same.

And all of this because of that damn Star Chart.

Epilogue


>

It has been many years since I stood in that corner with nothing on but a wet, soiled, diaper. But I still remember it today as if it were yesterday. If I close my eyes and concentrate, I can still recall the odor. Still recall how humiliated and embarrassed I was. A small chill still runs up and down my spine and I shiver every time I recall how miserably cold that wet diaper got before my diaper time-out ended. I can recall the remarks that were made by both mom and Kathy. Comments that cut deep into my soul leaving wounds that have never healed. But above all, I remember the laughter and the tears. Laughter from the women in my life and the tears that I shed in shame.

I remember.......

"Wade?" Mom called from the kitchen.

"Ye, ye, ye, ye, yes," I stuttered between chattering teeth. "Boy this wet diaper sure is cold," I thought as I shivered uncontrollably. It had only been a little over an hour since my mom had stood me in the corner like a naughty two year old, but it seemed like an eternity.

"Come into the kitchen will you please?" she asked.

I left the corner and started towards the kitchen. My first few steps were a little shaky because of the stiffness in my leg muscles. A few more steps and my stride steadied and I arrived at the kitchen. I toddled up behind my mother who was at the sink.

"Someone stinks!" Mom exclaimed as she turned around. Her eyes bored into me like a hardened steel bit drills into wood. "Would you like to get out of that dirty diaper, Wade?" she asked.

My gaze fell to the floor and apprehensively I said, "Yes." Mom then turned to the sink and when she turned around again, she had a baby bottle full of milk in her right hand.

"Take this Wade," she insisted pushing the bottle towards me. "After you finish your bottle, I will change your diaper."

"Mom," I protested weakly, refusing to take the bottle.

"Take it, Wade", Mom said, pushing the cold baby bottle up against my bare chest. I still would not take it.

"No bottle, no diaper change," Mom threatened.

The skin that was incased by my diaper had started to tingle. From the recent past, I knew that, that tingle spelled the beginning of a diaper rash. I also knew that if I waited much longer, I would be in real trouble. I reached up and took the bottle.

Kathy was sitting at the kitchen table enjoying my ordeal. She had an enormous grin on her face.

"Mrs. Johnston, I would love to change your baby," Kathy chimed in. I could tell by the expression on mom's face that she was surprised by the proposal. I also sensed that mom was seriously contemplating accepting the offer. I started to protest but, with a wave of her hand, mom dismissed my objection.

"Thanks for the offer, Kathy, but I think it would be best if I changed Wade's messy pants." I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt as if I had been granted a reprieve. "Thank God," I whispered. Mom grabbed me by the hand and led me out to the garage.

"When you finish your ba ba, call me," Mom stated as she turned and walked back into the house.

I had no idea how hard it was to get milk out of a baby bottle. I sucked until my lips went numb and the nipple on the bottle collapsed. It took a while but I finally managed to finish the bottle.

"Mom," I said opening the door.

"Have you finished your bottle?" Mom asked.

"Yes," I responded.

Mom got up from the kitchen table, entered the garage, inspected the empty baby bottle and then took me by the hand. We entered the back yard through the door in the back of the garage. She pulled me to the center of the yard, removed one diaper pin from my diaper, and allowed the diaper to fall heavily to the ground. She instructed me to step out of the diaper and I did. She then instructed me to stand still while she went over and picked up the garden hose and turned it on.

"Mom, what are you going to do?" I asked.

"I'm going to clean you up before I allow you back in the house," she responded. As she walked towards me she bent down and picked up a washcloth, soap and towel that were lying on the lawn. She then thoroughly washed me down with the garden hose and cleaned the hard to reach areas with the washcloth. I was shivering uncontrollably again. My teeth chattered like maracas to a Latin Beat. The goose bumps on my arms were so large I wouldn't have been surprised if they had honked :)

"You have a bit of a diaper rash," Mom observed as she dried me off with the towel. "I'll have to take care of that rash before it gets any worse. I don't want to have to deal with a cranky baby because of a diaper rash," Mom stated.

After I was dry, mom wrapped me in the towel, took me by the hand, and led me into the house.

"I think a little time as a naked baby will help that rash," Mom stated as she removed the towel from around my body. (When Heather and Mary were babies and had the beginning indications of a diaper rash, mom would let them run around the house with nothing on in order to air out the diaper area. Mom called it "naked baby time.")

"Mom!" I stated in shock while standing there in my birthday suit. I immediately assumed a shy time position and blushed. Heather and Kathy thought it was hilarious. They laughed until they almost fell off of their chairs.

"Don't be silly, Wade," mom stated. "A little naked baby time will help heal that rash. Now go play," she said, while patting me on my bare, red bottom and pushing me towards the living room. Over the next hour, I died 1,000 deaths due to embarrassment.

"OK, Wade, lets get you dressed," Mom stated as she and Kathy entered the room carrying all the supplies that were needed for a diaper change. "Come over here and lay down."

"Mom." I protested. "Not with her here," I said, pointing at Kathy.

"Wade, sometime in the near future, Kathy may be your babysitter, and I need to know if she can handle the job." Mom said. "But mom." I protested again. "Wade!" Mom interjected. "You have only two choices young man. Either you let Kathy diaper you or you can continue playing naked baby."

What a choice. After thinking it over for a moment I chose the diapers. Kathy approached me and instructed me to lie down. I did as I was told without comment. Mom then handed Kathy one of my thick night diapers.

"Lift your little bottom," Kathy commanded. I self- consciously did as I was told and she slid the diaper underneath me. She then ordered me to set my rear end down on the diaper.

"Here Kathy," Mom said handing Kathy the baby powder. I rolled over to look at mom and Kathy slapped me on the thigh.

"Ouch!" I cried.

"If you wiggle or move while I am changing you, I will slap your leg," Kathy informed me with a wicked look on her face."

"Mom?" I asked just as Kathy delivered another slap to my thigh.

"I told you to hold still, Wade." Kathy scolded.

"Don't look at me, Wade. You got yourself into this and you know what you have to do to get yourself out," was mom's response.

Kathy took the powder and sprinkled it all over my diaper area and then worked it in with her hands. She then ran her fingernails down my left leg leaving me with a very uncomfortable feeling. Kathy then pulled the diaper up between my legs and took one of the diaper pins that mom was handing her.

"These are really cute ducky diaper pins, Mrs. Johnston." Said Kathy.

"Yes they are, aren't they? I picked them up at the market today," was moms' reply.

Kathy pinned the left side of my diaper closed. She then pulled the corners of the right side of the diaper together and shoved the diaper pin viciously through the folds of the diaper harpooning me with the point of the diaper pin.

"OW!" I shouted. "You stuck me."

"Sorry." Kathy said without remorse. A smug look of satisfaction momentarily crossed her face.

"Mom," I said, seeking some kind of support from her.

"Wade, just deal with it." Mom said with disgust.

I felt betrayed and all alone in the world. Kathy finished pinning the diaper on me and helped me to my feet.

"Not bad," Mom said to Kathy as she turned me around to look at the entire job.

"Not bad?" I thought. The diaper almost fell off of me when I stood up and it hung out everywhere. Mom took me by the hand and led me down the hall to the full-length mirror. She had me stand in front of the mirror and look at myself.

"Don't you think you look silly?" Mom asked. "I do," She interjected before I could say anything. The trials of the day had taken their toll. I took one look in the mirror and burst into tears. Mom took me by the hand led me back into the living room and finished dressing me. Baby pants, socks, shoes, and T-shirt. She then looked at me and said, "I have one more job for you to do. I want you to go into the back yard and get the diaper you had on earlier and rinse it out in the toilet, wring it out and put it in your diaper pail."

With that said, mom gave me a swat on my diapered butt and headed me towards the back yard. I retrieved the diaper from the back yard and made my way to the bathroom. I rinsed out my dirty diaper in the toilet, rang it out, and then threw it in the diaper pail that was located in my room.

Yes, I remember.... I remember.... I remember.... And I pray to God that some day I will forget.

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