🏞️ Diapered at grandma's
Part 5: Sébastien, 7 years old
⚠️ This is a work of fiction
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Mom and I enter the rest area station and head towards the restroom.
"Can you go by yourself to the boys' restroom, or would you rather come with me?"
"I'd rather come with you."
When dad is around, I prefer to go to the men's restroom with him, but without him, I prefer to go with mom. And I know that she also prefers me to go with her anyway.
I enter the women's restroom with mom, and there, I see a lady taking care of her baby on the changing table area. But when I say baby, I would rather say a boy of 6, maybe 7 years old. We are about 3 meters away from each other. He's wearing white pajamas with the bottom around his ankles. I look at him, and he looks at me.
His mom is unfastening his diaper while talking to him.
"Well, this diaper has been quite useful again," she says to him.
He doesn't respond and turns his head away so our eyes no longer meet.
"Hello," mom says to her.
"Hello," the lady replies.
"Tom, hurry up and pee, dad and Lily are waiting for us."
I head towards the toilets, but I can't help but watch the scene. I find the boy a bit old to be wearing a diaper. While peeing, I keep turning my head to see what's happening. Mom, on the other hand, has entered a stall to pee. Now I see the lady cleaning the boy with a wipe.
"I'll put another diaper on you for the rest of the journey, but it's only for emergencies, Sébastien, you understand."
The boy just nods. Mom comes out at that moment, and I realize I've finished peeing; I hadn't even noticed because I was so absorbed in the scene. As I put my underwear and sweatpants back on, I notice that a little pee has leaked onto the latter, and it's a bit wet. I turn to face mom, and her gaze falls on me, as does the lady's.
"It looks like there's been a little accident," the lady says, smiling.
"Tom! Isn't it enough that you wet the bed last night, now it's during the day too?"
Hearing that makes me blush. Sébastien's gaze meets mine again, and I prefer to lower my head.
"Are you going on vacation?" the lady asks mom.
"Yes, yes, my husband and I are dropping him and his friend off at my parents', and this morning Tom wet the bed, it's the second time in a week. Super convenient on the day of departure for vacation. But sorry, I'm rambling. And you?"
"Sébastien and I are going camping for a week, and as you can see, there are a few accidents here too."
As she speaks, the lady puts a diaper on her son and makes him stand up on the changing table. His diaper is blue with an Iron Man design on it.
"He still wets the bed at night too, and I've opted for diapers. Actually, I've never stopped; he's never managed to stay dry for a whole night."
As she continues talking, I see the lady buttoning up a onesie. I already found the diaper babyish, but now, a onesie, it's astonishing.
"And the onesie is a habit I've kept. At one point, he took great pleasure in undoing the diaper's Velcro, you can imagine the mess in the morning. And it's very practical! It holds the diaper in place well and prevents him from getting cold when his pajama top rides up."
The lady then pulls Sébastien's pajama bottoms over his diaper and pats his bottom.
"I put it on him directly from his bed to his car seat this morning; my big baby didn't even wake up."
I look at mom, and I see that she too is somewhat surprised by the scene. My gaze returns to the changing table, and I see that Sébastien's nighttime diaper is still there. His mom follows my gaze and sees me looking at the diaper.
"And you? No nighttime diaper then?"
I no longer know where to look, and I don't want to respond to the lady, or even look at her, and fortunately, it's mom who speaks for me.
"No, but I must admit I thought about it this morning when I saw the state of his bed."
I look at mom with wide eyes, but she apparently doesn't see me. How could she imagine making me wear diapers at 9 years old?
"As a single mother, I see only advantages! I wouldn't have the strength to wake up at night to change his sheets, and it also saves on washing machine costs and time!"
"Fortunately, it's only very occasional for Tom. I hope he won't have any new accidents at his grandmother's. Last year, my mother kept him for a week, and he wet the bed twice. I can tell you, I heard about it. And in fact, she brought it up again yesterday on the phone."
"Why not make him wear diapers at night? At least for the vacation at your mother's."
I'm dismayed by what I hear; I want to crawl into a hole. This lady, whom I don't know, is telling my mother to put a diaper on me for sleeping.
"But he's quite big! Tom is 9 years old now."
"You know, Sébastien is currently 7 years old. Normally, I only put them on him at night, but now I'm putting one on for the journey because he sometimes really needs to pee and can't hold it for long, and on the highway, it's not possible to stop quickly."
Mom looks at me; I feel like she's trying to figure out what I think. I don't want to wear diapers. What will Lily say? And my friends? If they find out about this, they might not even want to talk to me anymore.
"And I can tell you that there are at least two other children in Sébastien's class who wear them at night. I know because I talk to other moms outside the school, and they too are dealing with this bedwetting problem."
"I'm not sure..." Mom responds to the lady. "I don't know if my husband would agree to our son wearing diapers at night. Nor Tom, for that matter," she adds, looking at me again.
"Here, take these two diapers," the lady says, handing them to mom. "One is a Pampers that I put on Sébastien at night, and the other is a Drynites. It's a pull-up diaper that I put on him during the day, for trips, for example, but also on other occasions like outings to amusement parks."
I see mom hesitating and eventually taking the diapers in her hands. She examines them, turning them over in all directions. As for me, my heart is pounding hard, and a feeling of shame overwhelms me.
"Thank you," mom finally says. "I'm not sure if I'll use them, but if I do, it will allow me to check if the size is right."
"But you're welcome, it's a pleasure. Among mothers, we must know how to help each other."
Mom and I leave the restroom. She holds my hand with her left hand, and in her right hand are two diapers meant for me.
Fate plays a cruel trick on me. If I had decided to go to the men's restroom, none of this would likely have happened.
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