✅ Potty Genius [NaNoWriMo 2022]

Thirty-Six

¿Did you feel better in the morning?

It would probably have been better if I hadn't been woken in the early hours by a ringing phone. Or if I hadn't tripped over a pile of diaper packages on the floor as soon as I swung my feet out of bed, only to grab my phone from the desk just as it stopped ringing. I lay back on the floor, pulled Methplease against me, and realised that the teddy bear was upside down. Somehow, that felt like an appropriate metaphor for how I felt right now.

My phone rang again just a few seconds later. This time I managed to answer it, and heard Britney's voice on the other end. I was still half asleep, and had some trouble working out what she was saying. But as I started to wake up, I realised that it wasn't quite as early as I thought. She was ringing me to check if I was still on for the shopping trip, because they had expected a call from me some time in the morning. It was after half past nine now, and I hadn't even thought about breakfast or picked out my clothes.

Did I need to pick something nice to wear if I was just shopping for new clothes? It seemed kind of redundant; I was sure to come back with more choice of clothes in any case. But I didn't feel up to putting that into words, so just grunted agreement and said I would be with them in twenty minutes.

A chime from my phone distracted me for a second; it was just a two-word message with a spiral background. But I groaned automatically when I saw it.

> 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚈 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙳𝙴𝚁 <

My diaper was already thoroughly soaked after last night, and it wouldn't have surprised me to learn that I had wet again in my sleep. I really needed to learn not to drink so much before I went off to university. But the timer from last night was still running, and I'd finally reached the end of it. It must have been right at the end; nearly eleven hours since my failed attempt to use the bathroom last night. So using the accident button had been my only option.

"What's wrong?" Britney's voice was concerned, but I thought I might have been better with a little judgement after all the stupid things I had done last night. I didn't even want to remember them. The more I thought about that night, the more I wished that I hadn't been so careless. I didn't want to remember all the details, and I didn't want to know what had happened. It would be much better if I could just stop thinking altogether and pretend that nothing had happened.

"Was that the tone from the Potty Genius app?" she asked, and I realised that my chances of not remembering were probably better if I actually answered the question first.

"Yeah," I groaned. "I just wet myself. Again."

"That sounds like something bad happened. More challenges? You can tell us about it when you get here. Change your diaper, get some clothes on, and let us know when you're ready to go. Okay?"

"Uh huh," I answered, and then realised that my actions last night had been even crazier than I thought. I'd wet my diaper in the bar, with people all around me, and worn it for the rest of the night. And I hadn't even thought about changing before I got home. Worse, I'd had the same diaper on for the whole night. I went into the bathroom and made sure I had everything I would need for a quick hot shower. I needed to feel clean before going out, even if that took me longer.

I was in the middle of that shower when the disjointed facts assaulting my brain finally clicked together and made enough sense for me to see the real problem. In last night's drunken haze, the worst thing that could possibly have happened had slipped past without me even noticing.

¿What was the worst thing?

There were new packs of diapers on the floor. Some of them were more Allnights, the same ones that I had bought before. There were some others as well; thicker brands that might have been more suitable if I'd ended up with a challenge that made me wait longer without changing, or something like that. Styled less like grown-up underwear, and more like they were designed to actually be recognised as diapers. They were thick, too bulky to hide under any trousers I owned, and decorated with the cutest possible nursery prints. That, I presumed, was because I'd allowed the app to introduce randomly selected new brands to my collection so that I could try them out without having to think about it.

The app must have ordered them automatically because I didn't have many left in the closet. It knew how many diapers I had better than I did, of course. It was useful in a way, because it meant there was no way I could forget to order more and end up running out. But it could also be a problem. I tried to tell myself that I might have imagined what I thought I saw. But when I opened the shower door and stepped out through clouds of lemon-scented steam, I saw exactly what I had dreaded on the bedroom floor.

The diapers came in cardboard outer packages; last time there had been two packs in a single, larger box. But this time, the box had clearly been delivered while it was raining outside. Some time in the afternoon, I guessed, while I was getting changed for my evening out. The weather had been pretty bad then. My parents must have accepted the delivery, and I'd been in the shower or something so I hadn't heard the doorbell. And that would have been fine, even if it led to some awkward questions about what I was ordering that was so bulky. But the problem this time was that the cardboard had absorbed an awful lot of rain in the time it took the delivery guy to get it out of his truck, past the careless parking of our neighbours, and up the path to the front door. He might have been standing outside for a minute too, if they didn't hear the doorbell on his first attempt. The card was visibly warped where it had gotten wet, and the box had come open. Where the packs had been left on my bed, there were bits of outer packaging attached to one of them, but it was clear to anyone who looked what I had bought.

I tried to work out what had happened, and wondered if I could put together some chain of events where they hadn't noticed. But only one sequence made sense. Dad had brought the box in, not sure what was inside. He would have put it on the tiles in the laundry room, where it wouldn't stain the carpet as the packaging dried out. And then he would have forgotten about it before I came downstairs, rushing out to catch up with my friends. Then Mum must have seen it in the laundry room, and asked what it was for. If it was dry enough now, she would have wanted to put it in my room so it wasn't in her way. But water damage had weakened the card, and it had fallen apart when they tried to pick it up, revealing packets of diapers within.

My parents had taken them up to my room anyway, to ask me about later. They'd done their best to put the packs back into the box, but some bits of cardboard were missing. They'd put them on my bed, where I was bound to notice them. And then I'd come home way later than planned, and just thrown the packs onto the floor without asking myself why they were there.

I tried to think of a different explanation, something that could justify the presence of the diapers on my bed, or now on my floor. But that explanation fit so perfectly that I knew it had to be true.

That was the worst thing that could possibly happen. I'd told Mum that I wanted to see my teddies for the sake of nostalgia, but changed the subject and been evasive when Mum offered to help me put them away again. And then just a week and a half later, they had found out that I was secretly ordering adult diapers with a particularly pronounced babyish pattern. There was absolutely no way they could possibly have any good feelings about that scenario.

I buried my head in my hands and tried my hardest not to cry. What else could I do?