This event took place in the summer of 1962, shortly after my first cousin, Guy, and I had turned 12. We were both bedwetters (hereditary predisposition) and would not be completely free of diapers until our late teens, me at 17 at him at 19.While growing up we were very close; his father and my mother were brother and sister. They were British and had come to the United States after World War II. They, too, were close in age, being the sixth and seventh children in their family. Also, they were the only blood relatives they had in this country.

Further promoting our closeness was the fact that we grew up in a small town (about 5,000). We were in the same grade at school and the best of friends. Our birthdates were only five weeks apart: he was born in early May and I soon followed in mid-June. We were frequently mistaken for twins, even after we were grown. Also, we lived very close to each other and frequently spent overnights at each other’s house, especially during the summer.

Despite these similarities, there were marked differences in our upbringings. I was the youngest of four children (my siblings were older by ten years [my bother] and twelve years [my twin sisters]). He was the oldest of seven. (At the time of this story he had four younger brothers and one younger sister. His very youngest brother would be born on Christmas Eve later in the year.)

While our siblings never teased either of us for wearing diapers, his parents’ attitude about the situation seemed very different from mine.  Before I was old enough to put on my own diapers, my parents diapered me just before putting me to bed and they always removed them as soon as I got up, whether they were wet or not. In Guy’s house, the atmosphere seemed more relaxed. He would frequently be in diapers shortly after dinner, and, in the mornings, it was typical for him to wear them until after breakfast. In fact, when I was very little, the only time I got my diapers put on early was when he slept over- and that was because he would ask for it. At first, I think my parents were surprised by his request but they agreed anyway. (In time, my parents learned that it was easier to diaper me before I became sleepy so they, too, began diapering me earlier in the evening but never as early as Guy was diapered.) It was because I was staying at his house that the following incident happened.

It was shortly after the Fourth of July and my parents had gone away to a conference in New York. They would extend their time away by taking a ‘mini-vacation’ after the conference. In all, I stayed ten days with my cousin.

On this particular day, a Sunday, we had gone to nearby Crystal Lake to spend the afternoon swimming. When we got home around five o’clock, my aunt decreed that we should get cleaned up before dinner. The younger kids protested loudly, correctly assuming that my aunt would get them ready for bed at the same time.

Guy helped his mom and dad get the younger kids ready for their baths and then we went to take our showers. He went first and I was surprised to see that he had already put on his diapers when I got out.

“It’s not even six o’clock. How come you’re already diapered?”

“We’re going to eat soon and I’d put them on after dinner, anyway. I didn’t want to get any more clothes dirty,” he explained.

That must have made sense to me because I decided to get diapered, too.

As I mentioned before, my mother and Guy’s father came from England. Because of this they had very definite ideas about what a diaper was. Our diapers and plastic pants were sent over from London by our aunt Madge. They were very thick terry cloth squares that had to be folded correctly to wear. The first thing was to fold the square in half to form a long rectangle. Then about one third of this rectangle was folded onto itself. This formed a quadruple thick layer that became the front of the diaper. Once it was pinned on, this diaper was extremely thick but very soft and comfortable. Naturally, we also wore plastic pants. (There is an unforgettable rustling sound that plastic pants make as they gently rub against a terry cloth diaper.)

The house was very hot from being closed up all afternoon so we decided to go without shirts. We did, however, put socks on since my aunt had this thing about bare feet on her waxed kitchen floor. Dinner was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches which we ate in front of the television. At seven o’clock, the Walt Disney program came on and my cousin and I thought it was too ‘little kid’ for us so he suggested that we go outside and throw a baseball around. We put our sneakers on (red high-top Keds with white shoe laces) and headed for the backyard.

Going outside wearing just our diapers was not really as daring as it might seem. His house was an old country farmhouse with a lot of property around it. The nearest neighbor was at least two hundred yards away and the immediate area behind the house was surrounded by a six-foot high wooden fence. We had played outside in our diapers before and thought nothing of it.

The sun was just beginning to go down and the temperature was perfect. We were so intent on our play that we didn’t hear the car pull into the driveway or the people get out. The first sign of trouble came when my cousin suddenly froze in place and allowed an easy ground ball roll past him.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, following his stare over my right shoulder.

Standing just inside the gate was a girl by the name of Suzanne, a classmate of ours. She, too, seemed frozen in place, her eyes darting back and forth between my cousin and me. My normally gregarious cousin was as tongue-tied as me.

“Why are you wearing those?” she asked.

My emotions were all over the place. Shock had been followed by embarrassment. Then, there was fear. Through all of it, I couldn’t find my voice. Besides, the last thing I wanted was to admit to her that I wore diapers because I still wet the bed. (Why was she doing this to us? I thought irrationally.)

The more she stared, the more I became aware of my diaper and plastic pants. Prior to her arrival, I hadn’t felt the diaper at all. Now, I was only too conscious of its bulk and how it bulged out, especially in the front. My plastic pants also seemed to have gotten tighter. The leg bands and waistband seemed to grip more snugly than I had ever noticed. (Why didn’t she go away? …Please, go away.)

 I was hoping that Guy would think of something to get us out of this jam. He didn’t. He admitted to the truth. I could feel my face heat up as he explained that we were bedwetters. I truly understood what people meant when they said that they wanted to die.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“You are?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes, I am,” she answered peevishly. “Do you think I’m a mean person or something, Donny?”

“No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that… well, I… I’ve got to go inside.”

I felt bad about abandoning Guy but I was dying from embarrassment.

“My parents are inside talking about club business with Guy’s parents,” she announced. (My aunt and uncle were the treasurers of a local square dance club.)

That stopped me. I certainly didn’t want anyone else to see me in my diapers.

Guy suggested that we move over to the picnic table. Guy and I sat on one side (with our backs to the house) and Suzanne sat on the other. At least our diapers and plastic pants were mostly hidden by the tabletop. In my opinion, Guy suddenly became way too talkative, telling her everything about our diaper wearing habits.

“You mean you wear those every night?” she asked with mild surprise in her voice.

“Yeah,” Guy answered, “and even during the daytime when we go on long trips.”

“Guy!” I protested, eyeing him significantly.

“Well, we do,” he said defensively. “Suzanne may as well know everything. I think we can trust her. She’s being nice about it.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said doubtfully. I had enough sense to realize that I shouldn’t insult Suzanne so I added, “I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” she said. “I won’t tell anyone, Donny. I promise.”

At this point, my uncle and aunt came into the backyard with Suzanne’s parents. (So much for escaping them seeing me in my diapers.) My aunt and uncle must have alerted them to what was going on because they didn’t seem surprised by what we were wearing.

“Time to go,” Suzanne’s father said.

“OK,” she answered.

As she got up she whispered very quietly “I promise I’ll never tell anyone.”

After Suzanne and the adults left, Guy and I got into an argument over what he had told her. Even though I knew that it would have been wrong to lie, I still didn’t think he should have told her so much. My aunt came back to the picnic table before we resolved our argument.

“Are you guys OK?”

“I guess so,” I answered. “What if she tells?”

“She won’t tell,” Guy insisted.

My aunt shushed him and continued, “Donny, don’t worry about things that haven’t happened yet. She seems like a nice girl. I heard her whisper to you that she wouldn’t tell. I think you should trust her and not worry about it.”

My aunt and Guy were right. Nothing ever came of it. Still, for the next year or so, every time she smiled at me I cringed at the thought that she might also be remembering me and Guy in our diapers and plastic pants.