My name is Donny. In 1959 I was six-years-old in first grade. 
Everything was good until a classmate (I forget his name) wet his 
pants. We were told to stay in our seats while she takes him to the 
nurse’s office. She returned a few minutes later without him. Fifteen 
minutes later he returned dressed in baggy bib-overalls with a slight 
bulge that looked like he was wearing diapers.
	At recess we found out he was wearing thick terrycloth training 
pants. Everyone teased him, calling him a pants-wetter baby. He went to 
the bathroom, so I followed to see his training pants because the 
stalls in the grade school had no doors. Some of the other boys in my 
class watched, too. The classmate unfastened his overalls and pulled 
down his thick training-pants. Boy, were they thick! I could see why he 
waddled when he walked.
	It was just a week later when I found myself in the same 
predicament. I had wet my pants on the bus ride to school. I spent the 
rest of the day being teased even by a kindergartener. I said that 
would never happen again. I hated every minute sitting in class with 
such thick underwear on.
	Two days later I ran off the bus to go to the bathroom but a 
teacher caught me and made me walk slowly the rest of the way there, 
causing me to wet my pants again for the second time in a week. I hid 
out in the restroom until the teacher that caught me running found me 
minutes later. I was led to the nurse’s office where she remembered me 
from a few days ago.
	My wet pants and underwear were removed then she washed my bottom 
off. Then, unlike before she lifted onto the little table in her 
office. I watched as she opened the cabinet the held the thick training 
pants and removed a thick piece of cloth and what looked like plastic 
pants. I thought I was going to have to wear plastic pants over the 
training pants. Then she unfolded the cloth and started to fold it 
again. I did not know what she was doing until she grabbed my ankles 
and put the cloth under my bottom. I started to kick and scream but she 
was too fast and strong for me. Every move I made she countered it 
until she had it pinned in place. I continued to kick but she pulled 
the plastic pants up over the diaper. The nurse continued to dress me 
until I was wearing the same baggy overalls I wore two days ago. This 
time I was wearing diaper under them instead of training pants.
	I did not want my classmates to see me but I had no choice. The 
rules are if you wet your pants at school the first time you have an 
accident you wear training pants after that you wear diapers. The 
plastic pants crinkled so loudly you could hear me walking from across 
the room.
	I had quite a few accidents at school until the third or fourth 
grade. I think that is why I like diapers and plastic pants today.