The Girl Who Wanted to Wear Diapers

Chapter 13: My Sister's Room

Three years earlier

I had never liked road trips. That much time spent cramped in a tiny space was too much. My body would tell me that I needed to move, and then I couldn't. But what made the drive home from the funeral take even longer was this new idea that I had become obsessed with. I needed more than anything to wear a pull-up again. All I could think of as the miles passed by were schemes about how I could manage to get my hands on one.

"Mommy, I need to pee."

Ahead of me in the front row, my three-year-old brother was squirming desperately in his car seat. Grace and I had retreated to the back row of the van for the return journey home, mostly to give us some space from our annoying younger brother.

"Mommy," Jackson whined again, his voice reaching a painfully high pitch.

Grace and I exchanged a glance. This scene with my brother had been a frequent occurrence on this road trip.

"The next rest stop is in five miles," Mom replied.

As if that made any sense to a three-year-old. How was Jackson supposed to know how long that was going to take?

"But Mommy," he whined as the squirming continued.

It was hard to know how serious of an alert it was from him. Despite all the whining for potty breaks on this road trip, my younger brother hadn't wet his pants at all. He had been potty trained for a little over a year now.

Mom and Dad had gotten to work on it right away after his second birthday. My parents had tossed out all of Jackson's diapers and made him run around naked outside for a couple of days that summer. I didn't understand how that was supposed to help with toilet training, but it had worked, even if the process had grossed out Grace and me a bit.

That Jackson was fully potty trained was unfortunate. If Jackson hadn't been potty trained yet, or had perhaps been a bedwetter like his cousins, that would have been another potential source of pull-ups.

I couldn't recall what methods my parents had used to potty train me. But I hoped that was not how it had gone.

"Should have made him wear a pull-up for the trip," Grace muttered softly next to me, making sure her voice wasn't loud enough for Jackson to notice.

Wouldn't that have been nice? That would have solved my issue of getting a pullup.

I tried my best to ignore my brother's whining for the next five minutes. Having a now-potty-trained three-year-old on a road trip at least meant that we were making a bunch of stops. I'd get a chance to run around at the next rest area. Perhaps it would even have a half-way-decent playground to explore.

Like previously, we made it to the rest area without Jackson wetting his pants. As soon as Dad shifted the gear into park, Mom hurried to get Jackson unbuckled and out of his car seat. The rest of us followed behind at a much more leisurely pace as Dad then took Jackson off to the men's restroom.

Mom would insist that Grace and I make a stop at the restroom as well, even if I protested that I didn't need to go at all. I did manage to pee a little, but only just a little, before heading out behind the rest stop building to check out the playground.

The play area was a bit sad, designed more for toddlers than kids my age. The top of the lone slide was only slightly taller than me. The only good thing was that it had a two-person swing set. I pushed off to get myself started as my thoughts drifted back to my plans to acquire a pull-up.

Even though Mom and Dad had previously assured me that Grace's bedwetting days were long past over – otherwise, I don't think I previously would have agreed to share a bed with her at a hotel – I had nevertheless attempted to ascertain whether she was perhaps secretly wearing pull-ups under her pajamas.