The boxes were unpacked, supper was served and cleared, and he had just finished the dishes. They had spent the better part of the day moving some of his stuff into her apartment. She didn’t have a lot of extra space, so he was just moving in his clothes (sans underpants), pantry supplies, and books.

Julie was getting her boys settled with a coloring activity. He walked into the family room, and felt the pressure start to build in his bowels that told him he was going to need to go. And that meant that it was time to confront Julie about this. He needed to say something now, since it would definitely come up again and again. Time to make a stand. There was no reason he couldn’t poop in the potty at her house.

He stood in the entrance to the room, and Julie looked up at him. “Um, do you have a minute?” He shifted his weight uncomfortably.

She smiled and stood up, coming over to him. He turned and walked back over to the kitchen table, where the kids would not hear them. “I need to go to the bathroom, and I’d like to use the toilet.”

She appeared confused. “Why?”

He’d seen Julie take this approach before, playing dumb. It annoyed him, if he was honest. But he managed to keep his temper. “Because I LIKE to use the toilet. I’m a grownup and I need to go.”

Her face cleared as she understood. “You need to poop?” she asked. When he nodded, Julie’s face grew firm. “We’ve already talked about this. But I’ll explain again. I want you to use your diaper in this house. I don’t want you in my bathroom except to shave, shower, or brush your teeth. Understand?” she said, looking intently into his face. “Say it back to me so I know you heard me.”

“But—“

“No, repeat it to me.”

He sighed. “You want me to use my diaper.”

“And stay out of my bathroom except for what?”

“Taking a shower, shaving, and brushing my teeth.”

She patted his cheek. “That’s a good boy.” She turned to go.

He couldn’t give up that easily. “But why? That seems unreasonable. I don’t like to…you know, poop…in my diaper. I’d really like to use the potty. And…and…it has to be easier for you if I…take care of it…like an adult rather than if you have to change my diaper, especially when it’s…you know…”

She shook her head impatiently. “No, it’s not easier for me. Because it means that you have to bother me to come change you out of your diaper, then wait for you to go, then change you back into your diaper. So it is actually taking more of my time if you don’t poop in your diaper like a good boy. I’m sure you aren’t telling me that your stupid modesty is worth wasting that much of my time, are you?”

Her face looked stern now. He didn’t want to make her angry, so this was a fine line to walk. He’d learned that upsetting her would not help him win an argument with her. But his need for a toilet was becoming more insistent.

“Of course not, it’s just…” he trailed off, considering a different tack. “I don’t understand why you don’t care about my feelings about this.”

Her face turned more tender. “I do care. But.”

She caressed his cheek. “Your feelings about pooping are silly, and we have talked about them over and over. You get embarrassed about the funniest things, and I view one of my jobs as getting you over that childish hump. Sometimes being a big boy means doing things you don’t like. And this particular thing is very important to me. Do you understand?”

He nodded sullenly, despairing that she would not give in on letting him use her potty. “I can’t hear your manners,” she reminded softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, as the pressure in his bowels increased. “It’s just that—“

“Ah-ah,” she interrupted sharply. “That’s the end of that conversation. We’re not having another word about my private potty. Understand?”

He nodded, and, when he noticed a pause, said, “Yes, ma’am.”

She grabbed his hand, and started to pull him back into the family room. “Then come on back in and join the family. Enough of this silly talk.”

He pulled back. “Um, can you please just, uh, give me a moment in here,” he asked, looking around a little desperately. “I just need, like, a minute of privacy. Please. At least give me that.”

Julie stepped back and looked him up and down slyly. She suppressed a smile. “No, I don’t think so. I want to show you something in the family room.”

He started to object, but when her eyebrows went up, he silenced himself and followed her reluctantly.

She went to her boys, who were starting to argue about each other stealing crayons. At least she allowed him to stand behind her, pretending to admire the boys’ drawings, instead of in her line of sight, which was a small blessing. He really didn’t want to poop in front of her, despite everything. He felt his bowels moving, and yet still tried to hold off.

“Can I get you anything from the kitchen?” he asked as he started to sweat a little. Anything to let him poop in private.

Julie paused and looked around at him. She smiled wickedly. “Oh, no, thank you. Being together is why it’s so much fun to live together.”

His face drained. She wanted him to fill his diaper here and now. Not that there was much choice. Damn that fiber! So much harder to fight against it. As she turned her head back to her kids, he let it out, aware that he was grunting softly, but unable to quiet himself completely. He partially squatted to finish.