Ever since I first started buying and wearing adult diapers, I made sure to be super careful about it so my family wouldn’t find out. Despite this, I did have some close calls. Looking back, I’d only describe the closest of those close calls as “a time I almost got found out by my parents,” despite how close some of the others felt at the time.
This incident occurred just last spring, on my mom’s birthday. At the college I was attending, it was the last week of class before finals week. I woke up early to work on a project I had due later that same day. I had a lot of work to do, and not a minute to spare, so I put on one of my Certainty diapers so I wouldn’t have to get up from my computer to use the bathroom.
I’m not sure of the time because it was so long ago, but at some point my mom knocked on my door. She’d taken off work. I easily told her to come in because I had sweatpants on over my diaper. I wished her a happy birthday, and she told me she and my step-dad were about to go out. I think they were going to breakfast or brunch, but maybe they were going to a store or something.
When my mom was about to leave my room, she asked me for a hug. I was too nervous for that. I was worried she would hear or feel my diaper if we hugged. Looking back, I know there wasn’t much of a reason to be so nervous, and I realize that if I’d just hugged her everything would have been fine.
But, when she asked for a hug, I told her I really had to go to the bathroom and that I would hug her afterward. I swear, that was probably more suspicious than just hugging her would have been, and what happened next was probably worse.
My sister and I share a bathroom that is between and accessible through each of our rooms. So, when I excused myself to use the bathroom, I ended up not far from my mom. I closed the door behind me and turned on the exhaust fan so she (ideally) wouldn’t be able to hear what I was doing. Then I undid my diaper. I think I did it slowly so the velcro wouldn’t be too loud. Next, I threw the diaper in the cabinet under the sink, where we keep towels.
After that, I flushed the toilet and washed my hands so my mom would think I used the toilet, then left the bathroom and hugged her.
When she left the room, I thought I was out of dangerous waters. But then dangerous waters came flooding in.
As soon as my mom left my room, I got back to work on my computer. I couldn’t afford to lose any more time, so I didn’t even put my diaper back on.
Mere minutes later, I noticed something horrifying. I don’t know what made me look behind me. Maybe it was a sound. But when I looked I saw water on the floor. It was coming from the bathroom, and it was coming fast; I could see it flowing. It had already gotten under a shelf and into my closet.
I immediately freaked out (I couldn’t figure out what was happening or how, but I knew it was bad) and ran out of my room, hoping my parents hadn’t left yet. Luckily, they hadn’t and I found them. I told them what was happening and my step-dad came to check it out. I don’t remember how quickly he moved, but he went into the bathroom and reported that the toilet had overflowed.
I was devastated on multiple levels. The water was surely already ruining my shelf and things in my closet, and it was spreading so fast that it could easily cover the entire floor of my room in minutes. Plus, it was toilet water. Plus, this was going to take forever to clean up, and I needed every minute I could get to work on my project.
I think the first thing I did, as my step-dad made his way to the toilet to turn it off, was grab the blanket from my dog’s bed and use it to soak up some of the water. My dog’s other blanket was already on the floor of my closet helping things in there, but when I looked inside I saw it wasn’t helping much folded up.
At some point, probably when I first opened my closet, I realized there were diapers inside. As I mentioned in one of my earliest posts, I used to keep grocery bags full of used diapers in my closet until I had the chance to take them somewhere to dispose of them; I was too afraid to dispose of them in the outdoor garbage can at my house.
Though my mind was racing, I remember some of the things that went through it. I worried that if my parents helped me clean up, they would find the bags of diapers. It had been way too long since I’d cleared them out, so I had around six.
On top of that, I worried my parents would find my unused diapers if they helped clean up. There was a set of plastic drawers in my closet, and the bottom one was full of Certainty diapers. It hadn’t been long since I bought new ones. If they tried to pull the drawer out to dry it off or dry underneath it, I they would find the diapers.
Then I remembered the diaper I’d left in my bathroom. If my step-dad went in the cabinet to find towels to start cleaning up the water in the bathroom, I was toast.
In a rush despite the delicacy of the situation, I rushed into the bathroom and opened the cabinet myself. It was undisturbed as of yet, to my great relief. I grabbed a white towel and pulled it and my diaper out, telling my stepdad I needed it to soak up the water. I knew he’d probably be unhappy that I went for a clean towel, but it was worth the risk.
Speaking of risk, it was super risky grabbing the diaper with a white towel and hoping they would blend together if my step-dad looked over, but that is what I did. In the moment, I had trouble striking a balance between quick action and discreet action.
I hid the diaper somewhere (maybe in my dresser or a drawer in my desk), and then jumped into the plan my frazzled brain had come up with for keeping my parents from finding the other diapers.
I went to the laundry room and got a white kitchen-size garbage bag. Then I took it to my closet and put all my unused diapers and a couple of the diaper bags inside. I didn’t want the outside of the bag to get wet, and it was already sagging quite a bit, so at that point I took it out of my closet to keep it from touching the wet floor.
I set the bag on a dry spot on my floor, which was pretty far from my closet, then brought the rest of the small bags out to it, shaking the water off them as I transported them so it wouldn’t drip onto the larger bag. Again, there was my difficulty finding a balance between speed and discretion. Luckily, though, my step-dad remained in the bathroom the whole time and my mom was nowhere in sight.
Once I had all the diapers from my closet (and maybe the one from the bathroom) in the bag, I tied it shut with multiple knots and got to work cleaning up the water off the floor. I don’t think I’d decided what to do with the bag yet, and I was super worried about other things besides completely getting rid of the diapers, so I didn’t move it.
Ultimately, I think all my step-dad did was work on the toilet and maybe put used towels down in the bathroom, and I don’t remember my mom being involved in cleanup at all. Instead of helping a lot like I feared, they left to go on their scheduled outing.
After they left, I continued cleaning up, but I didn’t do much other than soak up a lot of water. I didn’t have time. I had to get back to work on my project.
My project included a slideshow that I had to present that day in class, as well as a lengthy paper. I focused my remaining time on finishing my presentation, hoping I could get a slight extension on the paper after explaining to my professor what had happened with my toilet.
I left my house just in time to make it to class only a couple minutes late, within the acceptable tardiness range. I drove all the way to the college, which was about thirty minutes from my house, found a parking space, and started to get out of my car when I had a sinking feeling.
Everything had been happening so fast, but I had a feeling I hadn’t left the large white garbage bag in my room. I had a feeling I’d left it just inside the front door to my house, since I’d planned to take it with me and dump it on my way home from campus.
I hoped I was wrong, because I had no idea how long my parents would be out. They could be home already, or in a few minutes, for all I knew. And I feared the worst about what might happen if they found my diapers, especially in that quantity, so I was willing to do anything in my power to keep that from happening.
I buckled up, put my car in reverse, and headed home. Even if the bag of diapers was still safely in my room, I knew I had to make sure. I managed to keep myself together remarkably well during the drive, but my mind was definitely racing, playing out all kinds of scenarios.
When I got home, I was relieved to find my parents weren’t there yet. Afraid they would show up any second and question why I wasn’t in class—or, worse, why I was carrying a full garbage bag to my car—I ran up to my house, unlocked the front door, and opened it to find that my fear hadn’t been for nothing; the bag of diapers was right by the front door. I grabbed it and rushed it to my car, then headed back to campus.
I made it to class super late, but I was able to give my presentation. After class, I told my professor about my toilet fiasco (leaving the diapers out of the story, of course) and he gave me a slight extension on my paper.
Later, after my second class, I dumped my bag of diapers in a trash can near where I’d parked (I hope no janitors ever inspected the bag) and went home.
You may realize, as I do now, that this incident wasn’t really so bad. Everything turned out well. But going through the experience was so (for lack of a better word) traumatic that it scared me out of buying diapers until late October or early November. That was about six months!
Luckily, as you may have gathered based on what I’ve written in other posts about my current life, I’m in a much different place now.
So, here’s a fun question: What’s the closest you’ve ever come to being found out by someone else (without actually being found out)? And have any of you actually been found out? I look forward to finding some of your stories in the comments. But even if you don’t want to share, please press the Like button if you enjoyed my story!