After a bit of moaning, Peter sat back down. Being desperate for a wee was also a good distraction from the bog awful princess story we sat watching. Eventually, I had to let go which was as humiliating as it was a relief. “Now what do I do?” I wondered. Do I tell mum I’ve wet my nappy and need a new one, or just sit here in its warmth? I decided to focus on the film.
“Oh mu-um!” we moaned when she stopped the DVD bang at eight o’clock. “That had almost finished,” I said.
“Well if you’re good girls you can watch it again before bedtime tomorrow,” she said.
“Oh… don’t call us girls.” Peter moaned.
“Sorry, princesses.” mum replied. “If you’re good little princesses and go straight to bed, I’ll let you watch it again tomorrow.”
“I don’t wanna watch that ever again,” Peter said defiantly.
Mum ignored him. “Now… do either of you need a clean nappy before bed?”
I didn’t reply. Neither did my brother. But our faces must have said it all. Mum took us to the bathroom where we removed our nighties and hung them neatly on the radiator, then our over knickers and rubber knickers. Mum told us where the perforations were and we ripped them apart and placed the nappy, along with the rubber knickers in a lidded bucket. Then mum showed us how to clean ourselves with ‘baby’ wipes, how to apply our own dusting of talc, before showing us where our nappies were kept. We both moaned that we neither wanted to, nor needed to wear nappies for bed, but mum was adamant we wore them regardless. She reinforced this by showing us a massive pink nappy, “If you don’t want to wear your pull-ups, I’ll put you in one of these.” she said, before explaining that, unlike our pull-up nappies, this one isn’t disposable. “Which means it needs to be washed in the morning to make sure it’s clean and dry ready for tomorrow night,” she said. “…and believe me, boys, I won’t be washing it for you.”
