One Step Back Brandon was a typical five-year-old. Toy cars and trucks, Nija Turtles and Space Rangers, baseball and riding his bike were his passions. In the morning, his life revolved around kindergarten. In the afternoon, it revolved around cartoons. Brandon was busy playing with a toy garage and a colorful assortment of toy cars and trucks in front of the television set when Cheryl stepped back into the livingroom. His attention was focused on running the trucks and cars into and out of the gas station and around the floor. He wasn't even paying attention to the television, which was set to Sesame Street just for him. Brandon didn't pay any attention to Cheryl at all as she walked over and sat down on the livingroom davenport. "Come here, little guy." "What?" Brandon asked. He didn't even bother to look away from his toys. Pretending to fill up the tank on a toy car seemed much more important at the moment. "It's time to get ready for lunch. You're hungry aren't ya?" Brandon nodded. He pulled his knees up under himself and got to his feet. He started for the dinner table. "Wait a minute, little guy. We've gotta get you undressed first." Brandon stopped and turned around. "How come?" he asked. "'Cause you're gonna take a nap after lunch." "I don't wanna," Brandon objected. "I wanna play with them some more." He pointed to the toys in front of the television. "You can play with them later. After you wake up from your nap. It'll probably be time for cartoons then, too." Brandon's eyes brightened. "Ninja Turtles?" he asked. "Um hmm." "And Space Rangers?" "Um hmm. If you want. But you have to take a nap first. Okay?" "Okay." Brandon approached his foster mother from the far side of the coffee table. Cheryl loosened the velcro straps on Brandon's running shoes. "Do you like macaroni and cheese?" she asked "Yeah. My mommy makes it with tuna fish in it sometimes." "Well. We're gonna have macaroni and cheese, apple sauce, cookies, and apple juice." Brandon leaned back against the davenport as Cheryl pulled his shoes off and then his socks. He looked down and watched, but he didn't make any effort to help her. "What's that stuff for?" he asked, pointing to the coffee table. "What? The baby stuff?" Brandon nodded without saying anything. His eyes remained fixed on the big, round, yellow container of baby wipes and the container of baby powder next to it. "Aunt Cheryl's gonna put some baby powder on ya." "Why?" Brandon asked. "Because you still wet the bed." "Not all the time," Brandon replied. "No. But just about all the time." Cheryl pulled Brandon's shirt off. It came off inside out. She reversed it, and sat it on the coffee table next to his shoes and his socks. Brandon's head dropped as his jeans were lowered down around his ankles. He didn't make any effort to pull his feet free. He just stood there in his Space Rangers underpants, scowling. He almost tripped when his foster mother pulled his left foot free of his jeans. He looked over at the baby wipes and the baby powder again as his underpants slipped down his legs. "Do you have to go potty?" Cheryl asked. Brandon's lower lip sucked in. "Uh uh," he muttered, shaking his head. "You sure? You've haven't gone potty yet. It's been a couple of hours since Mrs. Davis dropped you off. You don't wanna go in your pants." "I don't gotta go potty." "Okay." Cheryl reached under Brandon's arms and lifted him up, grunting a little under her breath because of his weight. She layed Brandon on the davenport. An old blue and white sleeping bag with a floral design served as a cover for the davenport. Cheryl gave Brandon a reassuring smile as she pulled two wipes from the container. Brandon turned his head towards the television. His cheeks blushed as his foster mother pulled his legs back and began to wash his bottom. He didn't turn away from the television until she lowered his legs and started to wash his slender penis. He couldn't keep from giggling when she pulled his foreskin back and ran the baby wipe over the tip of his penis. His little penis stiffened as the baby wipe moved up and down the length of his penis. Cheryl could feel his hips throb up and down slightly in rhythm with the baby wipe. "You like this, don't ya?" Brandon nodded. "Uh huh." He pointed over to the coffee table. "I like baby powders, too." "That's good. 'Cause I'm gonna put some baby powder on ya in a minute. I gotta go get somethin' first, though." "What?" Brandon asked. "You'll see in a minute. I'll be right back." Cheryl stood up and walked out of the livingroom. She walked down the hallway to Brandon's new bedroom. She was gone just a few seconds. Brandon's eyes widened when she returned. His cheeks blushed again. He knew exactly what his foster mother had in mind when he saw what she had in her hand. "I think you better wear a Pamper," Cheryl told him. Her voice was calm, matter-of-fact. Brandon shook his head adamantly from side to side. "I don't wanna," he declared. Cheryl sat back down. "I think you better. Just until you wake up from your nap." Brandon shook his head. "I don't wear dem no more." "You don't?" Cheryl pretended to be surprised. "How come?" "'Cause I'm big." "But you still wet the bed." "So?" Brandon replied. "And sometimes you even go potty in your pants." "How'd you know?" "Your mommy told Mrs. Davis. And Mrs. Davis told me. Mommy said it was okay, if you wear Pampers here." Brandon shook his head. "No, she didn't! She runned outta diapers when I was four. Mommy don't want me to wear them no more." "Mommy said it's okay if you wear 'em all the time here. We're not gonna do that right now. Not unless we have to. You're just gonna wear this while you take your nap. Then we'll put your Underoos back on. It'll be okay. You'll see. You're gonna like wearin' these when you sleep." Tears welled up in Brandon's eyes as his foster mother opened the diaper. "No," he moaned as his foster mother pulled his legs back by the ankles. "I don't need to wear Pampers." He started to bawl. "Ssh!" Cheryl tried to quiet him. "Ssh!" Cheryl ran her fingers over Brandon's baby fine, brown hair. "It'll be okay. You'll see. You're gonna like wearin' Pampers when you sleep." "No," Brandon moaned. Diane waited until he calmed down a bit before she slipped the diaper underneath his bottom. Brandon whined and whimpered as his foster mother powdered him. He started to hiccup. He started to bawl again when she pulled the diaper up between his legs. Cheryl ignored him and adjusted the diaper for a comfortable, yet snug fit. She taped the diaper in place. "There!" she said, sitting him up. "All done!" She gave Brandon a big smile. Brandon's face twisted into a pout as he looked down at his diaper. "What if I gotta go potty?" "You can come ask Aunt Cheryl. I'll take ya to the bathroom, take the diaper off, put ya on the potty, and then I'll put the diaper back on ya." "What if I go potty in it?" "That's okay, too. That's what the diaper's for. In case you have an accident." Cheryl fed Brandon lunch. Brandon sat in a booster chair. He managed to get most of his lunch from the plate either to his mouth or around his mouth. A few dribbles slipped down his bare chest. Cheryl cleaned him up with a washcloth and escorted him by the hand to his new bedroom. Brandon's bedroom was as much a nursery as a bedroom for a kindergartner. It was equipped with a crib and a youth bed. The dresser had a changing table built on top. A curtained window was centered over the dresser, giving the room plenty of light. "Do you have to go potty?" Cheryl asked him again. Brandon shook his head. "Are you sure?" Brandon nodded. "Okay. It's a good thing you're wearin' a diaper then huh?" Brandon nodded again. Cheryl put Brandon down for his nap in the youth bed. She hugged him and kissed him. Brandon hugged onto a pound puppy. When Brandon woke up from his nap, he had a familiar warm feeling in the area of his diaper. He was wet. Not much of a surprise. He was wet almost everynight. He still wet when he napped as often as not. His mother kept him in diapers at night until just after he turned four. The aides at daycare used them at naptime a few months longer. They stopped when his mother threatened to pull him out and enroll him somewhere else. It had been almost a year since his mother last put a diaper on him. She threatened him with diapers often enough still. Especially if he had a toilet accident. Wet pants were becoming less frequent since he started kindergarten, although they still happened. They even happened at kindergarten on three different occasions. The other children teased him, calling him pee baby and chanting, "Brandon needs a diaper!" Brandon climbed out of bed and slowly made his way down the hallway that led from his bedroom to the livingroom. Cheryl was dozing on the davenport. CNN was playing on the television set. Brandon watched her for a moment from the end of the hallway. The soft padded feeling between his legs was gone. Instead, the diaper felt stiff and heavy. The lingering warmth was pleasant. And the diaper's perfumed fragrence wafted through the air. The disposible diaper rustled as he stepped into the livingroom, waking Cheryl. Cheryl yawned as she said, "Hi there, little guy." She sat up and patted the davenport with her right hand. "Come on over here." Brandon slowly crossed over to the davenport. He stepped past Cheryl, bent his shoulder, and rolled over onto the sofa. Cheryl looked him over. The diaper's white color was now a yellow-grey. "Good thing Aunt Cheryl put a diaper on you. Huh?" "Yeah," Brandon answered her. He looked over at the coffee table, just two feet away. The baby wipes and the baby powder were still there. There was a pink bottle of baby lotion with them this time. Brandon's socks were stuffed inside his shoes. His jeans and shirt were neatly folded. The shirt laying on top of his jeans. A fresh Pamper was laying on top of his shirt. His underpants were gone. "We have to go to the store," Cheryl explained. "We gotta get some things." "What?" "Some cereal. Some paper towels. Some other things." "Some diapers?" Brandon asked. "Ya. We gotta get you some more Pampers, too. I'm almost out. I only had a couple. We don't wanna run out. Do we?" Brandon grinned and shook his head. He pointed to the diaper on the coffee table. "Whose are dem?" he asked. "Those were for when I babysit." Cheryl loosened the tapes that held Brandon's diaper in place. "Did you poop?" Brandon shrugged. "I don't know." Cheryl pulled the diaper back and lifted Brandon's legs. "Nope," she said with a smile. "Just a wet one." Brandon grinned. Cheryl changed Brandon into a fresh Pamper. She used baby lotion this time instead of baby powder. Then she dressed him. The visit to the grocery store was brief. Cheryl picked up the few things she needed first. Then she pushed the cart to the aisle with baby needs. She put two packages of Pampers in the cart. Cheryl removed Brandon's diaper after they returned home and everything was put away. The diaper was still dry. She left the diaper on the coffee table and pulled on Brandon's Space Rangers underpants. Brandon spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the cars and trucks and watching cartoons. Cheryl let him wear his underpants until it was time for supper. Then she swapped the Space Rangers Underoos for the Pamper he wore earlier in the afternoon. Brandon didn't protest at all. Cheryl put Brandon on the changing table for the first time in the morning. His diaper was wringing wet. After Cheryl removed the diaper, she guided him to the bathroom, waited while he tinkled a few drops into the toilet, and then guided him back to the bedroom. Brandon expected to wear underpants. As he lay on top of the dresser, Cheryl got out his school clothes, including his favorite pair of underpants -- his Ninja Turtles underpants. She sat the clothes aside and put a dry diaper on him instead. "We'll put your underpants on after breakfast. When you get dressed." Cheryl kept her word. A half hour or so after breakfast, she went to his bedroom and got his clothes. She changed Brandon in the livingroom while he watched morning cartoons. As she loosened the tape's to Brandon's diaper, she told him, "When you get back from kindergarten, you're gonna wear this." Brandon nodded. When he got back from kindergarten, the baby wipes, the baby lotion, and the morning Pamper were waiting for him. Cheryl guided him straight to the davenport. Brandon wore the diaper until he woke up from his nap. Brandon's placement with Cheryl was almost five months. Cheryl continued to use the diaper. Brandon wore Pampers from evening until morning, and he wore them from lunch until after his nap. He continued to have sporadic toilet accidents. When he did, Cheryl cleaned him up and put a nice, soft Pamper on him. Cheryl never informed her social worker about diapering Brandon. As she put his clothes in the suitcase, she packed a small handful of Pampers. She figured the next set of foster parents would take the hint and use them at night.