🎢 Mathilda at Europa-Park
Part 4: Morning preparations
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I am the first to wake up. In fact, I didn't wake up alone; it's Mom who shakes me.
"Yes, yes, I'm awake, Mom, stop shaking me."
"Wake up your cousin and get up quickly," Mom tells me before leaving the room.
I rub my eyes a bit and look at my cousin. She's sleeping on her stomach, arms under her pillow, but the quilt doesn't completely cover her, and I can see the top of her diaper.
Moreover, in addition to the view, I also have the smell; it smells like pee in the room, and it's not very pleasant. I can't help but observe her, and I think I really prefer my condition as a young girl having daytime accidents to hers.
"Faustine, wake up," I tell her while pushing her gently, "we need to wake up and get up."
"Hummmmm."
That's all I get as a response from her, and I feel like it's going to be complicated to get her out of bed.
Then she turns a bit, and this has the effect of sliding the quilt even further. Her diaper is now much more visible. I also notice that she's no longer wearing the pajama bottoms she had on last night when going to bed.
The daylight through the shutters is not very strong, but the light from the corridor and the open door provides enough illumination for me to see that her diaper is swollen in the crotch.
I don't know why, but I imagine the scene of what would have happened last night if Faustine hadn't worn a diaper. It would have been a flood in the bed, and both she and I would have been wet.
It would have been embarrassing for her and would certainly have been very uncomfortable. As for me, it would not have been pleasant at all.
"Faustine," I say again, "if you want to go on the rides, you really need to get up."
"Oh yes," she replies with her eyes still closed, "I forgot."
While saying that, she turns in bed while stretching and now finds herself on her back.
Either Faustine has no shame at all about wearing a diaper in front of me, or she really doesn't realize anything, but her diaper is not hidden at all.
Now I see the front of her diaper, and I can see that it's also well swollen, a sign that it did its job and absorbed Faustine's pee from last night.
As I continue to gaze at her diaper, I finally get the answer to my question.
"I did well to wear a diaper last night, didn't I?"
"Um... Yes, it seems so," I say, feeling uncomfortable looking at her.
In any case, it's clear that my cousin is not ashamed at all of wearing a diaper in front of me, even if it's wet.
"Imagine otherwise, you would have been soaked," she adds.
While saying this, Faustine sits up on her elbows and presses the front of her diaper with her hand.
"I took off my pajama bottoms last night; I was too hot. I put them on yesterday evening because you were here, and you seemed uncomfortable with the situation, but otherwise, I hardly ever wear them."
I don't know how to respond, and I'm even less able to look at her.
"Again, Mathilda, don't be embarrassed. I'm the one wearing a diaper, and it doesn't bother me. Yes, I wet the bed, and yes, it's a bit babyish to wear these kinds of undergarments, but whatever, it helps me sleep better."
Her confidence and composure still surprise me. Without hesitation, Faustine stands up. Her diaper hangs between her legs, and I can't take my eyes off it.
"I'm sorry for the smell," she tells me while opening the window and then the shutters. "You see, that's what bothers me the most about wearing diapers at night because of my bedwetting. They say you should drink more so that it smells less... But well, I don't want to take any risks and have my diapers overflow."
Faustine continues to talk about this topic that bothers me so much, or at least, it makes me uncomfortable. I wonder if I would be as embarrassed if I had these accidents during the day.
This time, the light enters the room fully, and her diaper appears completely. In addition to hanging between my cousin's legs, I can see that it's no longer white but yellow, and Faustine sees me looking at it.
"It doesn't hurt, you know," she says, laughing.
"Yes, I know..."
"You're surprised that I talk about it so freely, huh?"
"Yes, I would be embarrassed, for sure."
"At first, I was, and then I realized that it doesn't change anything. Now, you see, I'm going to take off the diaper and take a shower, and voilà... Out of sight, out of mind, well, okay, not entirely out of mind, a bit, by the family," she concludes with a wink.
Her way of thinking amazes me, what maturity! Isn't she right, after all? Why let life be spoiled by relatively unimportant little problems?
And as she announced, here she goes out of the room, and I see her walking away with her wet, yellowed, and hanging diaper between her legs, heading to the bathroom.
During her absence, I get dressed. Mom and I have decided on the clothes I will wear. We agreed that I wouldn't wear a dress because it might lift during the rides. It was either shorts or leggings, and I chose the latter.
As I go to leave my room, I see Faustine approaching, a towel wrapped around her. She is holding her night diaper in her hands.
"Oh, you're already dressed. I need to hurry then. Would you mind taking my diaper to the kitchen bin?"
I hesitate, partly because the object bothers me, and maybe also because it disgusts me a little. Faustine must see from my expression that something is wrong.
"It's not gross, you know. You won't even touch my pee. My mom taught me to seal it properly with the tabs after rolling it up."
"Okay," I finally say.
"Thanks, that's nice of you. And come back to me afterward; I need to talk to you about something."
Faustine hands me her diaper, and I take it in both hands. It's warm, and I realize it's her pee that gives it this warmth. I thought I would be disgusted to have this wet diaper in my hands, but it's not as bad as I thought. In fact, I'm more embarrassed at the thought of my mom or aunt seeing me with it! It's as if I wore it and used it, even though I didn't, and everyone knows it!
While walking, I wonder what Faustine wants to talk to me about. I don't really have time to think about it because when I enter the kitchen, I see my mom and aunt looking at me. They are not looking at me, but at what I'm holding. I feel myself blush, and without looking at them, I quickly throw Faustine's diaper into the kitchen bin and leave the room.
Before returning to Faustine's room, I pass through the bathroom and wash my hands. Even though I didn't find the diaper disgusting, I feel a bit dirty on my hands and prefer to wash them. While rubbing my hands, I can't help but reflect on all this, on everything I've been experiencing since we arrived at Faustine's. I can't understand why I feel so awkward.
Once again, I'm pulled out of my thoughts.
"Oh, there you are. I was wondering where you were," Faustine says.
Faustine has dressed, choosing the same outfit as me: a top and leggings. Her top is a bit nicer than mine, and I envy her a little. I find my clothes less nice than hers.
"Instead of a long speech, I'll get straight to the point," Faustine says very seriously.
And then I see her lift her top slightly with one hand and lower the front of her leggings with the other.
"Did you put on a diaper for this morning?" I say, very surprised.
"Well, first, it's not a diaper but a DryNites, even though I agree it serves the same purpose. But let's call it that. The advantage is that I can pull it down to use the toilet. And it's not specifically for this morning but for the whole day."
"But why do you want to wear one today? You only have accidents at night."
"We discussed it with Mom, and it was her suggestion for the stay at Europa-Park. Wearing it allows, in case of a strong urge to pee, like in a long queue for a ride, not having to leave quickly to go to the toilet. It also helps avoid an accident."
I don't understand why Faustine wants to wear a diaper, during the day, outdoors, when she is perfectly able to use the toilet.
"I understand what you're saying, but I don't understand why you said yes to your mom."
And then, I get it. A lightning bolt just struck me! But why didn't I understand immediately?
"Are you telling me this so that I wear one too? Is it because I have accidents during the day?"
"Do as you want," Faustine says. "But I wear one. I feel secure with it, and I know that no matter what happens, I have this security if something were to happen, and I peed. At least no one will see me with wet clothes."
And now, a multitude of questions flood my mind: why is she doing this? Is she really doing it for herself? Is she doing it for me? So that I feel more comfortable wearing one? What if someone saw her? And could I do the same? Should I talk to Mom if I decided to wear a diaper? What would she say? Wouldn't I be treated like a baby? So many unanswered questions...
"Come have your breakfast, girls! It's almost time to leave."
It's Mom calling us. Faustine smiles at me while heading to the kitchen.
Her diaper is not visible at all under her white leggings, and I am very surprised. If she hadn't told me anything, I wouldn't have known. Her top descends a little on her buttocks, no doubt she chose it for that reason.
Throughout breakfast, I continue to question myself. Mom must see that something is bothering me because she asks me, but I tell her everything is fine.
My aunt asks my cousin about her night, and Faustine responds straightforwardly that her diaper served its purpose. It reminds me that I was the one who carried it to the kitchen, and I feel uneasy about it.
Shortly after breakfast, we load the suitcases into the car and set off.
Faustine hasn't brought up the topic of diapers again, and neither have I. Good spirits prevail in the car, and it's refreshing to think about something else, except that I'm starting to need to pee.
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