That night Julie’s mother came over for dinner, as she apparently did every Sunday night. He was nervous, as this was the first time he was to meet her. Julie ordered take-out, which was the tradition. She didn’t like to cook on Sunday nights, and he went to pick it up. When he arrived home, Mrs. Davis was already there. She was on the sofa, playing with her grandsons, who were thrilled to see her. Julie had poured some wine for the adults and was setting the table.

“So this is the famous doctor I have heard so much about,” her mother said warmly, standing.
He walked over, carried dinner in one hand, and said, “It is so nice to finally meet you.” He extended his other to shake hers, but Mrs. Davis held open her arms. “Give me a hug.”

She pulled him close for a moment, and he had an uncomfortable thought that maybe she’d be able to feel his diaper. Or hear it. Or even smell it—had he wet this one yet? But she gave no indication that anything was amiss, and her smile was truly warm and welcoming. He could see where Julie had inherited her charms.

They got to know one another at the kitchen table over a few glasses of wine. Mrs. Davis had been a nurse, and had inspired Julie to do the same. She was sharp and funny, and he felt comfortable around her immediately. But he did have a little bit of unease as he wondered how much she had heard about him.

He heard about Julie’s upbringing. Like all mothers, she had a few practiced stories about her daughter, which seemed designed to embarrass her, but Julie took it in stride. Mrs. Davis helped feed the boys, but attentively listened as he described his family in turn.

Afterward, he cleared the table and did the dishes as Julie and her mother played with the boys in the family room. Mrs. Davis noticed and clearly approved of his cooperative spirit, and Julie beamed with pride. They shared a meaningful look as he disappeared into the kitchen.

When he had finished that chore, he joined them on the sofa. But Thomas chose that moment to fill his diaper, grunted determinedly in front of the coffee table.

“Uh-oh, looks like someone is going to need a change,” Mrs. Davis commented, smiling. When Thomas had finished, she took him by the hand. “I’ll take care of this one,” she said.

“Thanks, Mom,” Julie said. When her mother had left the room, Julie said to him, “She loves you. Nice job with the dishes! You passed the test!”

He smiled. “Whew! Hope it wasn’t that close.”

Julie shook her head. “Of course not. I’ve told her all about you. She was thrilled with you almost before she met you.”

That reminded him to ask how many details Julie had shared. But at that moment Mrs. Davis came back into the room, carrying her grandson.

“And here we are again, smelling much nicer than before. Nothing like a clean diaper, right?” she asked the room.

Julie nodded. “Everybody loves that. Thanks again, Mom.”

Her mother brushed aside the comment. “Of course. You work so hard being a mom for this family. I’m happy to take a turn.”

Julie stood and looked at him. “Actually, maybe it’s time for us to take a moment as well,” she said.
He looked up at her, confused. She cocked an eyebrow expectantly. He blushed. She wanted to change his diaper.

“Oh, sure, right,” he said, not having any idea how to cover their obviously intentional exit.

“No problem,” Mrs. Davis said, smiling at them. “We’ll be okay for a few minutes. Take all the time you need.”

In the bedroom, he lowered his pants and laid down obediently on the bed, but hissed, “Does she know?”

Julie unconcernedly pulled off the diaper tapes. “Know what?” She pulled down the diaper, which he saw was quite wet, and ran a wipe over his front.

He sighed with exasperation. “About this! About my diapers. Did you tell her?”

Julie couldn’t help but notice that now he said “my” diapers. Cute. A good sign. “No, of course not. How would she know?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I don’t know. It just seemed like it would have been obvious to her when you excused us out there. I mean, what else could we be doing?”

Julie laughed as she wiped his bottom and found a dry diaper. “I don’t know. What do couples usually do in the bedroom?” she asked with a sparkle in her eye.

He said, “Oh, sure, we just ducked into your bedroom to have sex for a minute.”

Julie pulled the diaper between his legs and tightly taped it. “What we do behind closed doors is none of my mother’s business.” He stood and she patted him on his padded bottom. “You worry too much.”

He pulled up his pants and refastened his belt. He felt better that Mrs. Davis didn’t know she changed his diaper. When they returned to the family room the boys were deeply engaged in playing a superhero story, with Mrs. Davis enjoying the show. She turned to them.

“Everybody all set now?” she asked. “Now tell me: where did you go to medical school?”

He wondered what she meant by that first question, but didn’t have time to dwell on that, as he was called on to answer the second.

They had a good conversation. Mrs. Davis was genuinely interested in him, and seemed pleased with his answers. When the boys were put down to sleep, she excused herself as well.

After Mrs. Davis had left, he cleaned up the kitchen. Drying his hands, he returned to the family room and saw Julie sewing.

“You really are talented,” he said, hoping to keep the evening positive. He had hopes that tonight would end up happier than last night.

Julie smiled, then leaned over and accepted a quick peck on the cheek. “Why, thank you, my love. Since you liked the first onesie, I’m making you a second one, for laundry days. What do you think?”

The fabric was mixed blue and pink blocks. In truth, he had mixed feelings about these clothes. They had turned out to be quite comfortable to sleep in, and he liked that she was thinking of him enough to give him things. But he had come to the conclusion that they were more childish than he’d originally realized. There was a strong pattern in their relationship of Julie treating him like one of her young children. Individually these things—the diapers, the spankings, the onesies—seemed to make a little sense at the time, but collectively they were sort of hard to explain away.

He realized he hadn’t answered. “Oh, really nice,” he said, thinking there would be time to talk about the child vs. man issue another time, once he’d gathered his thoughts. But he still felt like pushing back a little. “Hey, if you like the way these things look, why don’t you make yourself one? We could be like a whole onesie household?” He was curious how she would answer.

She smiled. “Well, I like having a little easier access to what’s underneath, you know?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “And I bet you like having that access, too!”

He caught her meaning and felt himself getting a little hard. How did she do that? She was so sexy, and that made it easier putting up with some of this stuff.

She continued, “And of course, the snaps would make it harder for me to use the potty. That’s not an issue for you boys, so it just makes sense that if anyone gets to wear a onesie, it’s you. Boys have all the fun,” she said, shrugging.

This seemed like the opportunity he was looking for to discuss the potty situation. He didn’t like how things were settling into a habit of him never using the potty—the bathroom, he corrected himself (Julie’s language was infectious!).

He sat down next to her. Julie smiled a bit as she heard his diaper crinkle.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.