Freddie the Diaper Boy

By David Malone

Part I

	It was six a.m. when Freddie woke up. Something just wasn't 
right. As Freddie came to his senses, he discovered he was lying in a 
cold, wet bed. "Oh Shit," he murmured to himself, "I wet my bed."
	Freddie quietly got up and stripped the sodden sheets off his 
bed. He threw them into the corner of his room along with his wet 
pajamas, and got clean sheets out of his closet. After making his bed 
with the clean sheets and his spare blanket, he stopped to think about 
what he had to do next.
	"I can't let my family know I wet the bed," he thought, "but how 
will I get my sheets cleaned?" Freddie decided to just throw his sheets 
into the washer after everyone was up, and to pretend that he was just 
changing his sheets, which was possible since at eight years old, he 
was responsible keeping his room clean-this included changing his 
sheets and laundering them at regular intervals.
	Freddie climbed back into bed, and realizing that he only had a 
half-hour left, tried to stay awake. At seven, his alarm went off, and 
Freddie walked down the stairs to the breakfast table.
	"So, what do you have planned for today, Freddie?" his mother 
asked him as he sat down. She placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front 
of him.
	"Not much, just me and the guys are going to ride bikes down by 
the creek after school."
	"The guys and I, sweetie," his mother corrected, "and I don't 
like you hanging out by the creek."
	A frown appeared on Freddie's face. He knew that the "creek" was 
just a drainage canal, but it was a cool place to hang out. Freddie and 
Joe had even dug a fort into the side of the bank, and Freddie and his 
friends had made this into a sort of home away from home.
	"There was that boy that drowned a few years ago. I just want to 
keep you safe."
	Freddie did not remember this occurrence, but then he would have 
been five when it happened. His mother brought it up whenever Freddie 
wanted to go down to the creek. Freddie thought the story was a crock, 
but didn't have the guts to tell his mother this. "We'll be careful," 
he promised.
	After his mother relented, and gave him permission to go to the 
creek, Freddie finished his breakfast and went back upstairs. He 
bundled his sheets up and took them down to the basement. He could 
smell his pee on them and decided that he should use extra soap. After 
starting the cycle, he yelled, "Mom, I'm washing my sheets, could you 
pop them in the dryer when they're done?"
	Then he ran back upstairs, all the way to his room. He had to get 
ready for school. After putting on his pants and a shirt, he looked 
into the mirror and tied his tie. "Man," he thought to himself, "why 
can't I go to a normal school. I hate going to The Academy."
	Freddie knew that complaining would do no good. His parents had 
set strict rules about that. Besides, they said, The Academy is the 
only school in town that challenges talented children such as you.
	It wasn't all that bad, though, his best friend Joe attends the 
Academy as well, and he was studying at a ninth grade level. But 
sometimes he wanted to be a normal kid.
	As Freddie walked out the door, he saw the third member of his 
group, Sam. Freddie and Joe attended the Academy, while Sam went to 
regular public school. Freddie envied Sam. Most of the other kids at 
The Academy (it was always The Academy, as if the name had a high 
degree of importance. Freddie didn't think so.) were, in Freddie's 
opinion total wanks. Freddie wanted to go to school with kids who liked 
to ride bikes and dig in the dirt, the Academy kids thought that fun 
was playing with mathematical theorems.
	As the passed on the street, Freddie said, "The creek, after 
school." Sam nodded his head and hurried on. Freddie took his time 
walking down the street-it was only three miles, and at The Academy, 
one is allowed to come and go as he chooses-thinking about the last 
night and his accident. Freddie was a little concerned he hadn't wet 
the bed since he was a baby and just getting potty trained. He hoped 
that it would be the only time.
	Freddie walked through the doors of The Academy, and met up with 
Joe. Freddie and Joe were in the same class, although Freddie was a 
year younger. Joe felt the same way about The Academy as Freddie, and 
the two hit it off from the first time they met. Freddie told Joe that 
Sam was going to meet them at the creek after school, and Joe smiled. 
He got along well with Sam, and Sam always had some juvenile joke to 
tell them. Kids didn't tell juvenile jokes at The Academy, it was 
supposed to be beneath them.
	After a day that seemed to last forever, Freddie and Joe finally 
escaped from The Academy. They knew that they had to hurry, since Mrs. 
Johnson's lecture on the life cycle of the common horsetail went long. 
They liked Mrs. Johnson and didn't want to insult her by leaving in the 
middle of class-they felt differently about most of their other 
instructors.
	When they arrived at their fort, Sam was already there. "What 
took you so long, slowpokes?" He called out when he saw them.
	Before they crawled through the tunnel into the fort proper, they 
all took a leak into the creek. Freddie dribbled a bit onto his pant 
leg. "Peed his pants, didn't he?" Sam joked out loud. After zipping up, 
the boys crawled into their fort.
	After lighting a small oil lamp, the boys could easily see 
around. There wasn't much to see, but they boys had worked hard 
expanding its size and shoring up its walls. Quite the marvel for three 
small boys, two of who aspired to be engineers.
	After several hours of talking about stuff that boys talk about, 
they headed home. Freddie wanted to talk to Sam in private, about his 
accident last night. Sam had been a bedwetter until the age of seven, 
and Freddie thought that Sam might have some advice. Not only that, but 
Sam's experience with the shame of bedwetting would mean that Sam would 
use discretion and not tell anyone.
	After Joe turned down his street, Freddie and Sam walked down the 
street together. Freddie didn't know how to begin, and just blurted 
out, "I wet the bed last night, Sam." Sam just looked at him for a 
second and started laughing. "It's not a joke."
	At that Sam became serious. "Dude, that sucks," he said, "but it 
only happened once right? Besides, Joe and I won't make fun of you if 
it keeps up. You didn't make fun of me, right?"
	After many assurances that his dignity was safe with his friends, 
and that wetting the bed wasn't all that bad, Sam and Freddie parted 
ways and Freddie went inside his house.
	After dinner, Freddie watched some TV and finally went to bed. As 
he lay there trying to fall asleep, he kept repeating to himself, "I'm 
not going to wet the bed, I'm not going to wet the bed, I'm not going 
to wet the bed."

Part II

	Later that night, Freddie wet the bed.
He awoke in the same manner as the previous morning, but today he had 
the advantage-his mother had to work early on Wednesdays, so he was 
able to immediately go downstairs and wash his sheets. As he was 
pulling his sheets out of the washer and tossing them into the dryer, 
his little brother came in. "Freddie, didn't you wash your sheets 
yesterday?"
	"Yes, but they need to be washed again," Freddie growled, trying 
to hide his wet pajamas.
	Pat asked, "Why? Did you wet the bed?"
	"No! And if you tell Mom or Dad, you'll regret it." Freddie 
realized he gave himself away and started to cry. Pat just left the 
basement.
	"You might just want to tell Mom, she'll understand," he said as 
he shut the door.
	Freddie just stood there in his wet pajamas and waited for his 
sheets to dry. When they were done, he made up his bed and got ready 
for school.
	All day at school, Freddie couldn't concentrate on his studies. 
His instructors noticed, but most of all, Joe noticed. "What's wrong 
buddy?" Joe asked as they mounted their bikes and headed towards the 
creek.
	"Nothing," came the replay.
	As they approached their fort Freddie wet his pants. He couldn't 
help it, as he told Sam, "I thought I could hold it until we got to the 
creek."
	Joe just smiled, "I guess not." Freddie burst into tears, 
embarrassing both himself and Joe. Through his sobs, Joe heard about 
the last two nights, and now this afternoon. "It's OK, I won't tell 
anybody. Hell, I've almost wet myself coming out here, so don't feel 
bad."
	Freddie didn't feel much like hanging out, so as soon as his 
pants were dry, he left. Since Sam had a doctor's appointment, and Joe 
didn't like hanging out at the creek by himself, he left too.
	Freddie snuck in the door and went up to his room. He changed his 
pants because although the dark spot on the crotch was gone, he could 
smell pee. As he sat down on his bed, he heard a faint crinkling sound. 
After further inspection, Freddie discovered a plastic mattress cover.
	His mom stuck her head through the door. "The cover's just in 
case your GoodNites T leak, sweetie." She watched her son's reaction to 
being discovered, and as he started to cry, she walked over and hugged 
him. "It's going to be OK. We're in this together, and if this was only 
a two-time thing, then you don't have to wear the GoodNites."
	"How did you know?"
	"Freddie, you changed your sheets over the weekend, and then you 
changed them again only two days later. I thought something was up, so 
after you left for school, I came into your room and found your wet 
mattress. I stripped your bed and made sure your mattress was dry by 
the time you got home, I thought it might have just been a one time 
thing, but then I found your wet pajama bottoms today. Honey, you 
should have told me, I wouldn't have gotten mad, and the mattress cover 
is just to protect it."
	Freddie was still sobbing, promising not to wet the bed again 
when his mother noticed that he had changed his pants. "Did you have an 
accident this afternoon?" Freddie could only nod his head. "I guess 
this is worse than I thought, Freddie."
	"Mom," he said, "I was at the creek and didn't have anywhere to 
go. I couldn't hold it."
	"Its OK sweetie," his mom said quietly, "and Pat doesn't have to 
know."
	"He already does-he caught me this morning with my wet pajamas"
	"OK, but I won't tell him about your new sleepwear."
	Freddie's mother left and walked down the stairs. He walked over 
to his dresser and opened the top drawer. There, in all their gleaming 
whiteness was a package of GoodNites, opened and neatly stacked like 
underwear. "I guess I should try one of these on," Freddie thought to 
himself. He pulled off his pants and underwear, then proceeded to slip 
on his first GoodNite.
	"A little snug," Freddie thought to himself, "but I like the 
padded feel." As he pulled his pants back on, forgoing the underwear 
(that seemed a little redundant), Freddie felt the urge to urinate. 
"What the Hell, that's what they're made for," he thought to himself as 
he relaxed his bladder. A smile crept across his face; the warmth of 
the urine migrated through his GoodNite. Freddie walked down the stairs 
and plopped down on the couch.
	After watching his afternoon TV programs, Freddie got up to the 
kitchen for a snack. His mother walked up behind him and said, "I guess 
it's a good thing I put the mattress cover on your bed, your GoodNites 
do leak."
	Freddie didn't know what to say he just stood there knowing he 
was caught-not only wearing a GoodNite, but having intentionally wet it 
as well. "Mom, I just wanted to know what they felt like before I had 
to wear one to bed, and then I had to go, and since I had a GoodNite 
on, I just went."
	"Its OK, sweetie. If you want to wear GoodNites during the day, 
that's fine. In fact, I think it's a good idea, after your accident 
today. But you should put on a dry GoodNite, so you don't leak all over 
the furniture, and change your pants, or Pat will see that you wet them 
when he comes home."
	Freddie slunk up the stairs, wet GoodNite and all. He stripped 
down and stood in his room naked. He was thinking about the last few 
days. He was eight years old and wetting his bed and pants like a baby. 
He couldn't believe it. But his friends seemed supportive, and his 
mother was understanding, and that's all that mattered. That and the 
fact that his "little problem" had to clear up before the end of the 
term. Freddie's father was going to take them to Disney Land, and he 
didn't want his father to think he was a bedwetting baby.
	Freddie pulled up another GoodNite and pulled a dry pair of pants 
on over it. He thought that they leaked quite a bit, and hoped that 
they wouldn't leak in his bed. Freddie went downstairs and by this 
time, Pat had come home after soccer practice. For dinner, they had 
steak-thick, juicy, and perfectly done (pink all the way through, with 
a sliver of red in the center).
	After dinner Freddie just slunk to his room. He didn't want to 
have to look his family in the eye, knowing that he was the only one 
among them who wet the bed. After climbing into bed, Freddie 
immediately fell asleep. He woke up wet.
	When Freddie awoke, he expected the cold clamminess of a wet bed. 
He reached down and felt his sheets-They were dry! Then Freddie 
remembered his GoodNite. He reached his hand inside and felt that it 
was soaked. "Well, at least it didn't leak," he consoled himself.
	After stripping off his wet GoodNite, he replaced it with a dry 
one and got dressed for school. We smiled at his mother after sitting 
down at the table, "No wet sheets today!"
She smiled at him and asked, "So the GoodNite worked OK? It didn't 
leak"
	"Not a drop. But almost."
	"You have seven left right? When they're gone, we might want to 
get you something more absorbent. That is, if you still have your 
problem."
	Freddie didn't want to know what "something more absorbent" 
meant. But it wouldn't be good news. "Oh well," he thought to himself, 
"we'll burn that bridge when we get there."
	Freddie went to school grudgingly, it was Thursday and that meant 
special project assignments. Freddie and Joe had been working on an 
Electric Field study, but Joe had dropped the electron tube and it had 
imploded. Today they would have to explain to Mr. Smith why their 
project would be late.
	Mr. Smith most likely would not take kindly to the destruction of 
school property, albeit accidental. Freddie had confessed to Joe that 
Mr. Smith was a hard-nosed bastard during lunch a few weeks ago. Milk 
had shot out of Joe's nose. As he walked to school, he chuckled to 
himself at this thought.
	After explaining to Mr. Smith why their project was going to be 
late, both Freddie and Joe were expected to stay after school and copy 
texts. "What a useless activity," Joe moaned as he copied page 104 out 
of the encyclopedia, "if I have to see one more article about 
monotremes, I think I may scream."
	"I don't have it much better," countered Freddie, "I have the 
French Revolution."
	"Touch�."
	Mr. Smith stuck his head into the library cubicle. "I see that's 
its 5:00. You may go now." The boys handed in their work, and then Mr. 
Smith tore their hard written pages to shreds. "You said yourself that 
it was a useless activity, Joe. Now be sure that your make-up 
assignment is on my desk first thing Monday."
	Freddie and Joe walked down the street, "Let's get together this 
weekend and finish our project. You heard what Mr. Smith said," Joe 
suggested. Freddie didn't respond-he was worried about his bedwetting. 
"If you're worried about your bedwetting, I don't care. I'll come over 
to your house, that way it stays in your family, Ok?"
	Freddie nodded agreement, and waved to Joe as he turned down his 
street. Freddie felt the urge to urinate and started jogging towards 
his house. He dashed up the stairs and into the bathroom, pulling his 
pants down just in time. As Freddie peed into the toilette, he smiled, 
thinking about how he didn't wet his pants. Maybe things were going to 
get better after all.
	That night Freddie wet the bed and this time his GoodNite leaked. 
In the morning, he looked at the large urine stain on his sheets, 
standing in his soaked pajamas, thinking he might as well have worn 
nothing at all. His mom walked in and saw him standing there, almost 
ready to cry.
	"It's OK, sweetie. It's really my fault. I knew that GoodNites 
sometimes leaked, I should have bought something better right from the 
start. Just go get cleaned up and dressed. I'll take care of your 
bedding."
	Freddie slunk down the stairs after getting dressed; he sat down 
at the table and ate his breakfast. He headed to school, dreading the 
coming weekend. "What would Joe think if he finds out I piss so much at 
night my GoodNites leak?" Freddie lamented.
	All day at school, Freddie couldn't concentrate on his studies, 
and he almost wet his pants at lunch, but made it to the bathroom just 
in time. None the less, he managed to dribble on his pants, but 
fortunately it didn't show. "Don't know why I'm so worried," he thought 
to himself, "I have a GoodNite on, I'm well protected."
	After school, they stopped off at Joe's house, and picked up his 
overnight bag. Freddie carried it, since Joe was packing the electron 
tube and voltages source. "Just don't drop this one," Mrs. Johnson 
chuckled, "Ol' Smithy would have a cow."
	On the way to his house, Freddie did wet himself. All the way 
home, he kept thinking, "Please don't leak, please don't leak, please 
don't leak." As luck would have it, it didn't leak. As soon as Freddie 
stepped in the door, he had Joe turn on the TV, then sped up to his 
room to change his GoodNite.
	Just as he had pulled a dry one on, Joe came in the room to see 
what was happening. Freddie quickly pulled up his pants and Joe didn't 
see anything out of the ordinary. Freddie pulled off his tie and tossed 
it on the bed. "Just getting out of these stupid clothes," he muttered.
Joe saw the wet GoodNite lying on the floor, and didn't want to say 
anything and embarrass his friend. "Let's get this started," Joe said 
as he set up the electron tube, "if we get this done tonight, that 
gives us all weekend to hang out at the creek."
	Freddie saw his wet GoodNite lying in the open and kicked it 
under his bed. After hours of tedious measurements, Joe and Freddie 
finally finished their project. Since it was well after midnight, they 
decided to write-up the experiment in the morning. Joe spread his 
sleeping bag on the floor, and Freddie crawled into bed.

Part III

	That night, once again Freddie wet the bed. His GoodNite had 
leaked again, but the wet spot on his pajamas was barely noticeable. 
The sheets show no signs of wetness. Freddie stripped down to his bare 
bottom, and pulled on a nice, warm, dry GoodNite. He picked up the one 
he had just wet, and reached for the one under his bed. But it was 
missing! Freddie figured that his mom must have picked it up when they 
had left his bedroom for a soda break. He walked down the stairs and 
threw his wet GoodNite into the garbage. He turned around to see Pat.
	"Pat," Freddie began, "Mom already knows. She's the one that 
bought me the GoodNites."
	"I know. She told me not to make fun of you, that you couldn't 
help it. Don't worry, I used to wet the bed, remember?"
	"Yeah, but you were four. I'm eight."
	Joe walked down the stairs, and Pat had the good judgment to 
change the conversation. For breakfast the boys had to have cold 
cereal, as there was nothing else to eat. Just as they finished up, Joe 
and Freddie ran out of the house, and headed for the creek. They hung 
out in their fort, waiting for Sam. While they were waiting, Joe spoke 
up. "Freddie, I have a confession. I'm wearing one of your GoodNites. 
The one you wet yesterday. I just wanted to know what one felt like."
	"Hey Joe," Freddie said as he moved toward the tunnel, "I'm 
taking a leak."
	Joe smiled, "Just wet your GoodNite. That's what they're made 
for."
	Freddie stopped in his tracks and let his bladder relax. Joe 
starred as Freddie's GoodNite began to sag with the weight of his 
urine. Just as Freddie finished peeing, Sam came through the tunnel. 
"Dudes--that's twisted. How come you're wearing diapers?"
	Joe laughed, "Freddie here can't seem to control his bladder, and 
I just wanted to see what one felt like."
	Sam said, "Well count me in. We can be a diaper club. But we have 
to get you guys better diapers. Come over to my house. I have something 
to show you."
	The two semi-naked boys pulled their pants back on, and followed 
their friend, not knowing what he was going to show them.

To be continued