Howard looked up at his wife, his face contorted with rage over her chutzpah as he grabbed the crotch of his pants in his hand like a toddler needing to pee. The effrontery of the woman astonished him. “How DARE she do this me!”, he thought to himself. He was too enraged to speak to her. The torrent of irate words that rushed through his mind refused to form themselves on his anger purpled lips. Howard stalked over to the dresser and yanked open the drawer to pull out a pair of regular boy’s briefs. But when he looked in to the wooden tray, all he could see was more of the soft white cotton training pants stacked in neat rows across the bottom of the drawer. Their hidden elastic waistbands made them curve slightly rather than laying flat as proper underwear should. They looked more like piles of thick diapers to Howard than underwear. He turned back to Anita, and swung his arm expressively over the drawer full of toddler’s undies. “Why?”, he demanded, “Why did you do this? Why are you trying to make me look foolish?”

Anita shrugged indifferently and said, “You’re too young to wear anything else, that’s why.” She pointed at the crotch of his pants and said, “The padding will keep you from peeing all over my furniture and carpets. If you pee in your pants like a toddler, you’re going to be dressed in toddler’s training pants, Howard. I can’t go chasing after you with a mop to clean up your puddles. I know how disheartening it must be, but short of catheterizing you and putting you in bed until you get better, I can’t see any other way of handling the problem. If you’ve got a better idea, I’d certainly like to hear it. Would you rather wear diapers? What do YOU propose to do about your problem?”

“I donít know right now,” Howard replied, “But I do know there must be a better way! Who said you could buy training pants for me without consulting me? You had no right to make a decision like that! I’m the man around here and I make the decisions! I don’t need your help!”

“When you come up with something, we’ll try it! Until you do however, you’re going to wear training pants because that’s all we have that will fit you!”, Anita replied, turning on her heel and leaving the bedroom.

“Aniiiita!”, Howard cried in frustration as she walked down the hall, “What about my pants?”

“A big man like you can dress himself without my help,” she said without breaking step or turning around, “You said you don’t need my help, so do it yourself!”

“But I can’t button the buttons!”, he whined.

“Then don’t wear them. You can sit around the house in your underwear for all I care! I don’t care what you do. You’re the man, you make the decision,” Anita said as she passed out of earshot.

Howard stood in the bedroom quaking with rage. First she dressed him like a toddler and then she abandoned him to his own resources. What the Hell had gotten into her? After a few minutes Howard calmed down and realized the mistake he had made. He was utterly dependent on Anita for everything since his mysterious illness had robbed him of his adult abilities. He couldn’t drive a car or fix a meal for himself. Hell, he couldn’t even dress himself without her help. So what if she made a few decisions without asking him first? If she couldn’t find underwear to fit him, it wasn’t her fault was it? As much as he hated to admit it, she was right about the training pants too. It wasn’t his fault that his illness had made him incontinent. There was no reason to be ashamed of it. Lots of people had medical conditions that made them incontinent and they did what was necessary without getting upset. He had overreacted to Anita’s efforts. Sure it was embarrassing to have to wear training pants, but what else could he do? Wear diapers? A cold chill ran down his spine just thinking about having Anita change his diaper as if he was an infant. “Better to wear training pants that will protect the furniture and still let me use the toilet when I need to,” he thought to himself, “I was too hard on Anita. She was only trying to do her best. After all, she’s only a woman! I can’t expect her to think as clearly as a man. I’ll apologize to her and she’ll forget all about what I said. Women are like children; they only deal with the immediate present. Then things can get back to normal around here!”