Smart Boy Caught Taking Cousin's Diapers

I remember one summer evening in 1963 I was 9 years-old I was caught 
wearing two of my cousin’s cloth diapers. They were cloth Curity 47” x 
21” that need to be folded to fit the baby. I had taken them from his 
room when we were visiting that day. My cousin had so many diapers I 
thought my aunt would not miss just two. The day before I had taken a 
pair of his plastic pants. He was sort of fat and I figured they would 
fit me I was right they were Super Size Toddler from Gerber. It took me 
about a half hour to fold the diaper to fit me. When I was finished I 
looked in the mirror I looked just like my cousin after I pulled up the 
plastic pants, only my height was different.

I was just about to put on my pajamas to complete my new look when my 
mom walked into my room. I thought I could get under the covers before 
mom came in but it must have taken me longer than I thought to fold the 
diapers. There I stood wearing diapers and plastic pants. Mom asked, 
“What do I think you’re doing? You want to be a baby, do you?”

I started to cry big tears, saying, “No mom, I just want to see what 
diapers were like to wear.” Mom said she had the perfect place for 
that. We had a nursery with a crib set up in the spare room so when mom 
babysat my cousin he had a place to sleep. I was led to the nursery 
room where mom put me in the crib. I was only 44” tall and the crib was 
52” long, so I was not too big for it. Mom told me not to get out or I 
would get bare-bottom spanked. Mom left me lying in the crib wearing 
nothing but plastic pants and diapers, wanting to get these diapers off 
and get in my big boy clothes. A few minutes later mom returned with a 
baby bottle of warm milk handing it to me telling me to drink it NOW.

I lay down in the crib and started to drink with mom watching. Ever so 
slowly the milk came out just before it was empty I was asleep. The 
next morning I woke up with a soaked diaper and dry bed since I was a 
nightly bed wetter being dry in the morning was a good strange feeling 
for me. Before the diapers when I wet my bed mom just washed my 
pajamas, underwear and all my bedclothes every morning I never gave it 
much thought. This morning all she had to wash is a wet diaper and 
plastic pants. Mom told me this is great now she can cut the laundry in 
half. Mom told me that until I stop bed-wetting this is the way I would 
be sleeping diapered in my crib no more big bed clean up for me just a 
little bed clean up if my diaper ever leaked.

Mom put me on the changing table to change my wet diaper not giving my 
big boy pants back. I was so scared because what if someone saw me wear 
just diapers I started to cry. Mom told me I would get big boy pants 
after breakfast. I ate breakfast wearing just diapers and plastic 
pants. I felt so ashamed at what I was doing I wanted my underwear 
back, but mom was right there making sure I did what she told me to do. 
After breakfast mom led me back to the nursery to remove my diaper, 
handing me plastic training pants for me to put on. Mom told me to get 
dressed as we were going shopping. I asked for my big-boy pants, not 
these baby pants. I threw them back at her and stomped naked to my 
room. Mom had me over her knee, giving me so many spanks from her bare 
hand to my bare bottom. I was kicking and crying so hard. Within about 
ten or more spanks I forget how many I received and then went limp. Mom 
put me on the floor then put the plastic training pants on me. Mom told 
me I needed to get dressed as we were going shopping or do I want to go 
just like I was wearing nothing but my training pants.

I asked her, “Please, I want to have big-boy pants.” Mom said I am 
wearing all the big boy pants I have now. She threw away all my other 
big-boy pants because they were too badly stained.

I ran from the nursery to my room to get these stupid baby training 
pants off and get dressed in my real big-boy pants, not these baby 
underwear. I open my underwear drawer to see nothing but more plastic 
training pants. I cried as mom entered the room and helped me get 
dressed wearing the training pants under my summer shorts. The training 
pants made my summer shorts puff out big time. Everyone would know I 
was wearing baby underwear. Then what could I do? Mom would spank me if 
I did not do what she told me to do.

When we got to the store mom put me in the child seat of the shopping 
cart. I did not want to draw attention to myself so I sat in the cart 
quietly as mom shopped. I paid no attention to what mom was buying. She 
bought big-boy clothes that looked more like toddler-style clothes, 
except they had no snaps like real toddler clothes. The clothes had 
Barney, Thomas the Tank Engine, Blues Clues and other baby things all 
in my size. Then she bought 4 boxes of Curity diapers, a dozen in each 
box. She bought 10 pair of super sized toddler plastic pants just like 
the ones I took from my cousin. I knew I was in trouble now. Mom was 
mad at me. She was going to teach me a lesson.

I was squirming in the cart seat as we were in the check out line. I 
was trying to hold my pee. Mom asked what my problem was. I whispered 
that I needed to pee pee. Mom told me I needed to hold it until she 
could check out. We were next in the checkout line when I lost my 
battle holding my pee. I had stopped squirming and mom asked me if I 
had wet my pants again. With tears in my eyes, before I could answer 
her she stuck her finger in the top of my training pants.

Mom said she figured I would not be able to hold it very long, so it 
looked like I didn’t need those trainers like my cousin. He started 
wearing his training pants last week. He had a few accidents but now he 
was wearing just thin cloth training pants.

“Looks like you still need diapers. Most little boys have accidents; 
just one accident a day, or not at all. This is the second one for you. 
Now you have wet your pants twice this morning so you must not be potty 
trained well enough for training pants. When we get home you are going 
back to wearing diapers so we can try to potty train you in three 
weeks.”

When we got to the car mom pulled off my wet plastic training pants, 
grabbed a pair of dry ones from the diaper bag she had brought. I felt 
like a toddler as I stepped into my training pants as mom held them 
open. Mom told me I need to be diapered when we get home so we would 
stop by my cousin’s house and pick up some washed diapers from his 
supply. She told me my aunt has been potty training him so he doesn’t 
need that many during the day, only at night and on shopping trips. Mom 
explained why she had to get diapers that have been washed. I could not 
use my new unwashed ones. She told me she needs to wash new diapers to 
make them soft and more absorbent to soak up my pee.

I was so upset when she fastened my child seat belt, something I 
stopped using when I started using the adult seat belt. I cried and 
whimpered all the way to my cousin’s house I was still crying when mom 
led me into my cousin’s room with him taking a nap in his crib. Mom 
warned me that if I did not stop crying she would make me take a 
pacifier. I continued to whimper as she put me on the changing table so 
in my mouth went a pacifier. I knew if I did not take it mom would get 
really mad and as mad as mom was she would spank my bare bottom so hard 
so I sucked it at first begrudgingly. The more I sucked the more I felt 
better. My training pants were wet again so mom removed my wet pants 
and dropped them in the empty diaper pail. I was on the same table I 
had watched my aunt change so many of my cousin’s diapers, wondering 
what it would be like to be in his position, wishing I could trade 
places with him. Mom started to clean my diaper area, putting diaper 
rash cream on, followed by baby powder. I loved the smell of baby 
powder. While I sucked the pacifier I smelled the baby powder I was 
taken away to my dream place. I watched mom fold my diaper then pin it 
on me followed by plastic pants.

When we got home just two blocks away mom put me in my cousin’s 
playpen. It was four-foot square and thirty-six inches high, about chin 
high to me. I tried to climb out when mom left the room but it was too 
high for me to climb with my thick diaper on since I was not a climber.

Mom was busy removing my regular bed setting up taking it to the attic, 
bringing another crib and changing table down from attic storage 
transforming my room into another nursery. I was confined to the 
playpen playing with my cousin’s toys, starting to have fun. Mom walked 
in telling me it was snack time. I wished I could go back in time and 
not wear that stupid diaper I stole from my cousin’s room; then mom 
would not be punishing me now.

When I found where mom was going to put me I started to kick and cry 
but nothing could stop her as she sat me in the highchair. She had the 
seat belt fastened and the tray in place with me screaming, kicking and 
crying. Mom said I can kick and scream all I want but until I take my 
bottle and eat my cookies I would be sitting in my new highchair. Mom 
said for my screaming and kicking I will get bare-bottom spanked when I 
finish my snack, about ten spanks. She told me if I don’t do what she 
tells me from now on I will get a bare bottom spanking on the spot no 
matter where we are.

I quit my crying and started to drink my bottle, letting pee into my 
diaper without thinking of what I was doing. It was just a small amount 
I barely noticed. I ate my oatmeal cookies and finished my milk in 
fifteen minutes. Mom did not check my diaper when she lifted me down 
from the highchair. Mom had me by the hand walking towards the door I 
started to bulk when she gave me a stern look. I started to whimper as 
we walked to my cousin’s house.

We walked into the back yard where my cousin was playing wearing big-
boy play clothes. He did not even say anything about seeing me wearing 
only diapers he wanted to play. My cousin looked so thin in his play 
clothes then I realized it was his diapers that made him look fat. I 
looked down at myself to see I looked fat now. We played with his cars 
and trucks in the sand I need to pee again so I let it go into my 
diaper for the second time since mom diapered me two hours ago. My 
cousin got up ran to the house a few minutes later returned, announcing 
he just pottied. He is a big boy, not a baby, pointing to my diaper. I 
felt so bad I started to cry uncontrollably. As I cried I never noticed 
my cousin running to the house and retuning with a pacifier. When he 
put it to my mouth I started to spit it out but saw mom watching me. I 
knew I had better do what my cousin wanted me to do so I started to 
suck it as soon as it touched my lips, quieting my crying. I sat in the 
sandbox sucking my pacifier wearing just a wet diaper and plastic pants 
playing with my baby cousin, but who is the baby now?

Mom said it was time to eat dinner. Mom had me by the hand leading me 
to the house. I felt my diaper sagging with every step; it was soaked 
with my pee. I must have peed even more than I thought. When we walked 
into the kitchen mom picked me up and sat me in my cousin’s old 
highchair as my aunt fastened the safety belt, followed by the tray. I 
watched my cousin climb into my old booster seat to sit at the table. I 
cried that I wanted to sit at the table. “I am a big boy, too!” Mom 
said that since I was wearing diapers I needed to sit where babies sit. 
I said I wanted my big-boy pants since I was a big boy, not a baby. Mom 
asked me if my diaper was dry. If it was she would give my big-boy 
pants back.

Mom said my potty training will begin when I have a dry diaper after 
two hours. If I can hold my pee for two hours like my cousin then I can 
be potty trained. If I wet before two hours I am not ready to be potty 
trained and need to stay diapered and treated like a little baby.

I watched my cousin feed himself and drink from an opened top cup while 
mom fed me three jars of baby food and held my bottle while I drank 
from it. I was so ashamed but what could I do, run away wearing diapers 
and plastic pants where could I run? After dinner mom changed my wet 
diaper on my cousin’s unused changing table with my cousin watching. My 
cousin said, “me a big boy, me pee in the potty not my pants.” My aunt 
told me, “That’s why you wear big-boy pants, not diapers. Diapers are 
for babies.” My cousin said, “Yeah, diapers are for babies.”

After my diaper change mom led me back home where I played in the 
playpen until bedtime. When mom led me to my room I saw my new crib for 
the first time. I started to cry to mom, “Why am I a baby now? I want 
to be a big boy.” Mom said I should not have taken my cousin’s diapers 
and worn them but since I did she knows how to handle my misbehavior. 
My wet diaper was changed for a thick night diaper followed by a thin 
sleeper that zipped up the back out of my reach. Mom put me in my new 
crib, raising the side and sealing me in for the night. Mom handed me 
my night bottle and I started to drink without resisting. It was normal 
for me to drink from a bottle now.

In less than twenty-four hours I have been turned into an un-potty-
trained toddler, not a nine-year-old big boy, all because I was curious 
about diapers and getting caught. Now because of my small bladder and 
mom’s potty training rule of I must have a dry diaper for two hours 
before she would start my potty training.

As I slept I dreamed of being a big boy again, not a baby, but then I 
woke up sucking a pacifier and it was so relaxing and calming I 
continued to suck until mom came in to let me out. Mom changed my 
soaked night diaper for training pants. I thought I was going to be a 
big boy again. Until mom put me in the highchair and started to feed me 
breakfast. I suddenly felt the need to poop and told mom. Mom told me I 
had to hold it until after breakfast. I was just about done eating when 
a little poop came out. I got scared and clamped down to stop it. Then 
as I relaxed a little the whole load came out into my diaper as pee 
flowed at the same time. I could not stop it with both happening at the 
same time. Mom said, “I smell poopy. Baby has poopy, don’t he?”

I cried big time until mom put my bottle in my mouth saying she would 
change my diaper when I finished my bottle. I was now just like a baby. 
I pooped in my diaper, not wanting to, but poop came out anyway. From 
that time on mom would check my diaper every hour. If I was wet she 
would change me, telling me to try to hold it longer, or I would not 
get out of being a baby. Two months later I could hold it about an hour 
and a half, no longer, and school was going to start in three weeks.

I did not want to go to school wearing diapers so I tried not to wet or 
mess but it happened anyway. I could not control it. Wetting was the 
hardest. Poop happened only after breakfast, so one poopy diaper a day 
and 9 to 12 wet diapers a day put me in the “not ready to potty train” 
group. Mom said when I get down to 4 to 5 wet diapers a day I will be 
ready to potty train, not until then. I kept forgetting to hold my pee. 
I would be playing when it happened. I was wetting my diaper so often 
my bladder did not grow past the one and a half hour point. Every one 
and a half hours my diaper was wet no matter how hard I tried. Pee just 
came out into my diaper. Sometimes I would know when it happened, 
sometimes not. My cousin started to ask me if I wet my diaper every 
fifteen minutes. That helped keep me dry but the three weeks went by so 
fast. I was still not ready for the potty when school started. I had to 
go to sixth grade wearing cloth diapers and plastic pants. In 1964 they 
had few disposable diapers so mom made arrangements for the nurse to 
change me at lunchtime. The cloth diapers I wore were good and thick. I 
only needed one diaper change a day at school. I never poop at school, 
but three or four times on my walk home poop came out in my diaper. The 
school year went by so quickly and before I knew it school was out for 
the summer.

During the summer of 1964 I was getting close to my goal of having two 
hours of keeping my diaper dry. My cousin was three and a half years-
old. He was an expert at using the potty, never having an accident in 
more than a year, not even a wet bed. He could dress himself feed 
himself even tie his own shoes. I was not aloud to do any of these 
things because I was still wearing diapers and mom did not want more of 
a mess to clean up. Mom dressed me every morning in my clothes she 
picked out if I wore clothes that day. Most days I wore just diapers 
and plastic pants that helped to cut down on the laundry and to shame 
me out of diapers. She would even spoon feed me most of the time, 
telling me I needed to stop wetting my diaper like a baby, then I will 
be allowed to feed myself.

Mom told me I was going to have to go to daycare once or twice a week 
to help with my potty training. It was not fun for me, either. In the 
early sixties older diapered kids were not accepted with the regular 
kids his own age; the diapered kid stayed with the babies. My cousin 
was in the preschool, not the nursery school with me.

The other older kids never saw me at daycare that much. The nursery 
school was the first door to the right and nobody went in that door 
because they were told anyone under twelve would be automatically 
diapered and spent the rest of the day diapered. I was always the first 
one at the school so they never got the chance to tease me. I played 
quietly with the babies. I showed them how to play with all kinds of 
toys. I became their leader until they were potty trained and left the 
class.

At home my cousin told me what I could play with and what I could not. 
He was the boss of me there. Checking my diapers every half hour or so 
and changing me when I needed changed, even poopy diapers, but I don’t 
poop in my diapers that much. I am almost a big boy. Every morning mom 
would put me on my own potty chair with a safety belt to make sure I 
stayed where she put me. I would spend ten minutes sitting on my potty 
and poop to make her happy and keep her off my back about being such a 
baby. She would wipe my bottom and diaper me for play.

By the time school started I way doing seventh-grade school work and I 
was in plastic training pants, keeping my pants dry for two hours, and 
after three months I could wear cloth training pants, no plastic 
protective outer cover. Seventh grade classes were okay. The teenagers 
were good to me, not teasing me. I could help them with their work and 
make their understanding of their work easier.

I was still a bedwetter, so I still slept diapered in a crib either at 
my house or my cousin’s house.