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.