The Weekend Visit, Part 46

Everyone in the kitchen must have known my answer before I said a single word.

My cheeks were probably as pink as my dress as Kate blatantly asked about the state of my diapers in front of everyone. Fidgeting slightly, not sure whether to look at my sister or my aunt, I awkwardly muttered, “Umm . . . I, like- I didn’t, umm-”

“Use your words, little sis,” Kate giggled. She was entertained by something I was too embarrassed to notice at the moment–After a day and a half of overusing the immature filler words, they were now happening completely unintentionally whenever I felt awkward and/or put on the spot.

“Your sister asked you a question,” Aunt Miranda said, “We’re working on maturity this weekend, remember?”

I flushed more deeply at that. Even our aunt was treating me as if I was Kate’s little sister, clearly not impressed with how I had been acting recently. Between the 24/7 diapers and the events at the country club, her attitude towards me was more judgmental than the initial amusement she had towards the tween ‘disguise.’ My mouth suddenly felt dry, and it took a considerable amount of effort to push the words out. “ . . . I wet the bed.”

Kate let out an exaggerated sigh. “That’s the fifth night in a row, Annie.”

My eyes widened. As usual, Kate was making it sound so much worse than what it actually was. This had all started two days ago; I wasn’t a chronic bedwetter! But was anyone in the room going to believe me if I insisted otherwise? I would just look like a girl who was lying in order to save face, just like any other young teenager.

The twins looked both surprised and a little bit curious. As in, what girl my age still needed diapers? At least they didn’t giggle like Kate did a minute ago, though that was probably because they were still under the impression that I was in middle school. Meanwhile, Kate and Aunt Miranda knew the truth. The split of who knew what only made this more complicated for me in terms of how I was supposed to be acting.

Thankfully, our aunt spoke up after a moment or two, as I had no idea how to respond to the quantity Kate just casually lied about beyond the frustrated denial that was on the tip of my tongue. “Do you need a change, Annie? Or can you wait until after breakfast?”

Umm. Obviously, I needed a change. The sooner, the better. I only hesitated because I wasn’t sure which answer was more mature. While I wanted to be in clean diapers, and felt as gross and self conscious as ever as I walked around in soaked padding, it could potentially come across as selfish to ask for Kate’s help if it meant her meal would be cold by the time we were done. I might have been overthinking it, though Aunt Miranda could have just as easily told me to clean up if she wasn’t testing me to some degree.

Kate didn’t come to my ‘rescue’ this time around, leaving me to scramble for an answer. “I, like, need a change,” I mumbled. Saying I could wait would basically be implying that I was okay sitting in my own pee. Selfish or not, my impulse was to avoid anything that would normalize extended time in used diapers around our relatives. Especially considering how I already had a bit of a rash from not telling Kate about the mortifying accident I had on the obstacle course until well after the fact. I also wasn’t sure when I wet the bed last night; for all I knew, it could have been hours ago.

“On it,” Kate said, like this was business as usual. She stood up and glanced towards our cousins. “Save me a few pancakes?”

“Of course!” Luna exclaimed, “There should be plenty for everyone, including Annie.”

“Perfect. Come on, little sis.” She took my hand, giving everyone the patronizing visual, and walked me back towards the hallway and then up the stairs. “That dress is perfect for a girl like you,” she said, once it was just the two of us, “We should put your hair in pigtails again; I liked those better than the high pony.”

“Whatever,” I huffed.

She led me to the bathroom, where I was expecting her to tell me to undress for the diaper change, or to help me out of the dress herself despite how I could do it without her fussing over me. Instead, she asked, “Have you relieved yourself this morning?”

What? No. Was she accusing me of using my diapers upon waking up, and using bedwetting as an excuse? “Like, no,” I said. My body did generally have to go first thing in the morning, and there was definitely a hint of a signal from my bladder now that we were in the bathroom itself, but the fact that I had gone overnight meant that there wasn’t much of an urge at the moment.

“Okay. Why don’t you go now, just in case?” she said.

“But- umm,” I vaguely gestured to the diapers that were barely hidden by the skirt of the dress. As in, I was pinned into the padding. Even if it was tape, rather than pins, anything but lying down would probably end up making a mess.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Use your words, Annie.”

Phrase of the day? Or just a follow-up reference to how I really wasn’t coming across as the most mature girl with my responses? The crazy part was, I was generally self assured and had never had an issue speaking clearly before. After nearly 48 hours of wearing diapers and being treated like a little girl, however, I was starting to constantly doubt myself. It didn’t help that it was impossible to keep up with all of Kate’s unfair rules and conditions.

Letting out another teenage-like sigh, I said, “I need to, like, take these off first.”

“Take what off?” she replied.

Blushing again, knowing right away what she was fishing for, I averted my gaze and said, “Like, my diapers . . . ”

“Why would you take off your diapers?” Kate asked, like I wasn’t making any sense, “They’re already dirty. It’ll be quicker, and easier for both of us, if you just wet yourself before I change you.”

Wait, what? It definitely didn’t sound like she was kidding. “I’m not-” I paused, too caught off guard to immediately respond in a coherent way. Lowering my voice, as the bathroom door was still open, quietly insisted, “I’m not wetting myself on purpose, Kate!” It was the first time in a while that I had stood up for myself, without any filler words to boot.

Sounding more calm by contrast, she tilted her head and asked, “Why not? You’re basically wearing a toilet. And it’ll be so much more work to clean you up, supervise you while you pee and wipe properly, and then get you back down onto your fresh diapers.”

I opened my mouth to say something, only to find myself trapped as always by her ‘logic’ that only made sense in a roundabout way that made things more embarrassing and overwhelming for me.

When I couldn’t immediately find the words, Kate jumped back in. “Come on, Annie. You don’t want everyone waiting for us, do you?” She pointed towards the area right next to the toilet. “It’ll be fine. Just squat down and pee in your diapers. If you keep arguing, you’re not going to get changed until lunch.”