The time I went to School still wearing my nighttime diaper (a true story) -- (Author) LukeTheDeersky

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Author: LukeTheDeersky
Timestamp: Feb 18, 2024 at 10:37 AM
Content: Thursday morning dad's house, told from my perspective as a kindergartener .....

"McGhee get up and get changed for School," my dad bellowed from the master bathroom down the hall.

"Yes father," I replied sheepishly.

While changing means to most kids a simple outfit change it meant more to me. I was a bedwetter following my parents divorce when I was five, so to combat the issues of my situation pull-ups were required to keep myself and my bed dry. My mom was always very supportive but for my dad, it always seemed that my situation burdened him. I could sense the disappointment and shame he tried so little to hide from me. I felt shame towards myself I didn't choose this! My mom always accommodated condition, I had a sealed trashcan in the bathroom and I was never at risk of being seen in my soggy pull up, but not dad.

The rule at his house was that after getting changed I was required to dispose of my pull up in the outside trash bin. It was never a guarantee that I could run down two flights of stairs and not be seen by one of my dad's one night stands or some contractor or anyone for that matter. My parents had not entirely finished building their mcMansion and so often there would be someone "working on something somewhere" in the house. I often felt humiliated being stared down by people I did not know. I dreaded this part of my seven year old life. But I decided today was going to be different.

After finishing up getting ready in the restroom dad thuded down the three stairs to the landing outside my room and flicked on the light.

"Lucas get ready were going to be late for school, hurry or we won't have time for breakfast, and did you pee in your pull up again?"

"Yea daddy I did."

Hearing my response, he shook his head and replied "well go figure..... I am making oatmeal for breakfast I will see you downstairs, get ready!"

"OK," I responded with an attitude following him saying "go figure."

Several minuets had passed and I had still not gotten ready. while I am not sure why, I refused to get ready and was adamant about staying in bed.

"Luuuuccccaaassss," My dad angrily screamed from downstairs!

I did not respond, I was committed and based on the time from my digital watch I knew there was no time for breakfast. In fact it was time to leave.

Dad had given me no warnings following his comment I'll see you downstairs. My young mind thought he would at least call up to me before it was time to go. But I was expected to be downstairs. I guess he figured that I would just skip breakfast. He was never the type to give warnings I was just expected to do something and if I didn't there would be consequences.

I heard my dad pounding up the stairs, my heart raced. The last time he pounded up the stairs like that I had run away from him after refusing to take my pullup outside to the trash, because I had heard Matt one of the contractors using a power saw outside.

When he entered my room he turned on the light in the closet grabbed a set of clothes and then turned towards me.

"Let's go," he said sternly.

"No," I whined.

"No we are going now, your mother will kill me if you are late again, I am lucky to have you one night a week and if she finds out....."!

He grabbed me by the shoulders and started steering me down the stairs towards the backdoor where the suburban sat outside idling.

"What about my pull up" I pleaded.

"I guess you just have to change at school"

"Dad I don't want them to see me"

"Well that's too bad"

"But"

"Not one word" dad abruptly cut me off.

Leaving the driveway in nothing but my pj's, pull up, backpack and no shoes, I began to cry quietly.

Although the Montessori school was only ten minutes away the drive felt like forever. The whole time images of other kids pointing and staring filled my mind. " look Lucas is in a diaper" and other snide remarks seemed to be on replay.

We arrive at the school and went into room 2 and were greeted by Mrs. T.

"Pj's today," she questioned?

"No we didn't want to get out of bed today, here are his clothes, and oh, he will need to help with his nighttime diaper, thanks," my dad replied and quickly strutted away. Leaving me with my backpack, no shoes and my tear covered face to see for all the other kids to see.

Some pointing and giggling ensued before Mrs. T wrote me down on the attendance and escorted me to the classrooms bathroom.

The bathroom was kind of like a stall with two toilets and a door that had an opening at the bottom. Mrs T instructed me to get changed. I started crying hysterically and refused to take off my pants. The class had grown quiet hearing my hysterics, and Mrs. T. had grown impatient and pulled down my pajama bottoms. I stepped out of them and instead off using the tear away sides of my now leaky pull up she pulled it down too, I stepped out of it too. More giggling ensued from the class and the assistant teacher spoke up and regained the classes attention. I cried even harder and felt the humiliation and could only imagine how many kids did or did not see my goodnites.

Above the toilets were these cabinets that the kids could not reach and Mrs. T grabbed a sealable bag and some wipes. While I was getting cleaned up I was surprised to see about 6 or seven different cases of pull-ups. With names of my classmates on a sticky note mostly boys and two girls packages. Some read "nap time" and two read "potty training." I was surprised, I wasn't the only one who wet the bed much less wasn't potty trained. Mrs. T. Handed me my change of clothes and I got dressed as she snuck out of the bathroom. I opened the door and walked out to join the circle of kids confident I was not the only one who was a bedwetter.