You wave goodbye to your friend as she drives away. When she vanishes into the distance you follow mum back into the house.
“I’m proud to have you as a daughter,” your mum tells you. “Despite her little problem you didn’t let that get in the way of being friends.”
It seems strange to think it would be a problem.
“It was nothing,” you say, brushing it off with a shrug.
Your mother’s smile widens.
“Well, regardless, I am proud of you, sweetie.” You’re blushing faintly at the praise. “ow about I get you a bowl of ice cream as a treat?”
“Really?” you ask excitedly.
“Yep!”
Mum has her own bowl as you sit next to her on the couch, watching some Saturday morning cartoons and eating your ice cream.
“I just wanted her to be happy,” you say as the credits roll at the end of the show about a family of talking dogs. “She was really worried about her nappy and what I thought about her when she knew I knew.”
Isn’t that the point of friends? To make them happy? Making Bow Kid happy made your heart soar.
Strangely, your mind turns to nappies again, to the idea of also wearing them. You wouldn’t have to get out of bed if you had too much to drink before bed, and you and Bow Kid would look so cute together. It seemed safe and secure… it seemed comforting.
You and Bow Kid, together in nappies.
“What was that, sweetie?” you mum asks with a small amount of bewilderment.
You freeze, your mind reeling as you realise you said it out loud . You mentally panic, looking for an excuse.
“I — uh — I mean, so she’s not embarrassed,” you add, grasping for the first thing that comes to mind.
Mum looks pensively at you as what you said actually processes. It… is actually not a bad idea, you did want to make Bow Kid happy, and both being in nappies would make her less embarrassed, you’re sure.
“You want to wear a nappy as well?” mum asks cautiously.
You blush furiously as what that actually means hits you.
I-I just thoughts if we’re… both in nappies, she w-wouldn’t worry.”
Mum sighs neutrally before pulling you into a hug.
“You don’t have too, sweetie,” she says. “I know it could be embarrassing. I’m sure your friend will understand.”
You’re not sure what to say. Mum seems to think you don’t want to because you’re embarrassed, but you do, even if you are embarrassed a bit by it. But it occurs to you that this might not be something you should voice.
“I’ll do it,” is your muffled reply from mum’s top.
Your mum brushes your hair with her hands for a few moments.
“You really are a good friend,” she comments. “I’m glad she’s got a friend as good as you.” You wait in anticipation, hope for the next words. “So yes, we can do that.”