Chapter 4
Level One Cowboy - Chapter 4
Level One Cowboy
October
“Hey, doofus.” Felix sneered, trying to look as cool as it was possible to look in his dorky new school uniform polo shirt. Noah didn’t react, staring into his locker as if there was something extremely interesting inside.
Ever since his step brother had started sixth grade that September, the two of them had been at the same middle school. It was a nightmare. Even with Ms Mackie, school before had at least been semi-normal - but with Felix around Noah felt like he was always walking on eggshells. One wrong step, and he was certain the bigger boy would tell everyone about how Dad made him wear pull-ups to bed - or worse, show them the pictures from Dig Dig World.
“Hey, Baby Dork! I’m talking to you.” Felix insisted, going right ahead and grabbing his little big brother by the back belt loop of his grey school uniform shorts - threatening a pantsing.
Noah gave a frightened squeak. Despite what Dad described as Noah’s ‘potty problems’, he never wore pull-ups to school. The expensive private school’s administration could be very accommodating with pre-emptive accident check-ups or supervised tinkle time with the school nurse, but they were quite clear that disposable underwear requiring any kind of changing during school hours belonged firmly in the preschool building. Still, that didn’t mean Noah wanted the bright lime green Toy Story briefs he was wearing to be exposed in the middle of the school hallway.
“Let go!” he peeped in a tiny anxious voice, glancing around the hall. It was five minutes past the final bell already and it was Halloween, so nearly everyone had cleared out - but there were still a couple of sixth graders Noah didn’t recognise milling around.
Felix tugged Noah’s undies up just a little, making sure Woody’s brown cowboy hat was just barely peeking out above his waistband, before he let go - satisfied he’d got his brother’s attention. “Next time, listen to your big brother.” he lectured.
“What do you want?”
“Dad says I’ve gotta walk you home.” Felix informed him as he pulled out his smartphone. Sure enough, a GoHenry pop-up showed the chore Dad had issued along with the associated reward - ‘Walk home with your little brother - $5’.
Noah grunted. He hated that stupid app. Not only was Noah still reliant on whatever change Dad happened to have on hand for his own pocket money, but every single ‘bonus’ chore that Felix got through the app seemed to relate to his ‘little brother’. If Dad was going to make them hang out, he at least wanted to get paid too.
“I’m meant to wait in Ms Mackie’s office.” Noah mumbled. In the circumstances, it was actually the preferable option.
“Dad says she had to leave early to pick up her grandson or something, so no play time with Ms Mackie.” Felix smirked. “Sorry!”
“Well…I don’t have anything to wear.” Noah pointed out, glancing up at the rain thwacking against the window above them. It had been raining heavily since noon, and he didn’t have any of his own gear. He’d been expecting Dad to pick him up, after all.
“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” Felix grinned.
Ten minutes later, Noah found himself dressed head to foot in Toy Story themed rain gear - complete with a hooded rain jacket featuring all the main characters that was so bright electric blue it hurt Noah’s eyes, a pair of rubber rain boots decorated with a cow-hide pattern and golden sheriff's badge to look like Woody’s cowboy boots, and a flimsy-looking plastic see-through umbrella themed after Buzz Lightyear.
The whole outfit was courtesy of the Kindergarten lost-and-found. According to Felix, the Kindergarten teacher Miss Gordon had been quite happy to part with it. Apparently, that particular set had been languishing in the store cupboard for the past three years - so there wasn’t much hope it would be recovered. And for Noah, it was a perfect fit.
“Shame she couldn’t lend us a diaper, too.” Felix had commented wryly as he had sat Noah down on the bench outside the office, forcing his feet into the rubber boots with little regard for the smaller boy’s comfort. “Oh, sorry - you wear super big boy pull-ups, don’t you?”
“Kindergarteners don’t wear diapers.” Noah had contradicted, shooting his brother an unhappy sarcastic glare. “Or pull-ups.”
“Oh, right.” Felix nodded. “I guess you can always be the exception. You know, once the school finally figures out where you belong.”
“Shuddup…” Noah muttered.
“What? It’s true, isn’t it? You’re like…basically a toddler. Even Dad thinks so.” Felix boasted, zipping up Noah’s new waterproof jacket and grabbing him by the hand - tugging him aggressively out into the rain. “You better not piss yourself, by the way. There’s no way I’m cleaning that up for five bucks.”
Noah briefly considered what might happen if he actually did pee himself. It might make sure Felix was never assigned to walk him home again. On the other hand, however, the fact that Noah had never actually had an accident at school was about the only thing ensuring Dad’s continued compliance with the school’s potty training policy. Over the last few months, Noah’s extra ‘back-up’ had become somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophecy - his occasional accidents only ever seeming to occur when he had some kind of absorbent padding between his legs. Having a deliberate ‘oopsie’ would certainly be tempting fate. The look on Felix’s face would be priceless, but it wasn’t worth getting shipped back to pre-school in a pull-up.
After a few minutes, the two boys made a sudden turn into a parking lot. Noah narrowed his eyes suspiciously, seeing that they were approaching a convenience store.
“We’re meant to be going home.” Noah whined, trying unsuccessfully to extract his hand from Felix’s iron grip.
“Jeez, what’s the big hurry?” Felix tutted as he marched them through the automatic doors into the dry. “And don’t say ‘I hafta go poddy!’”
The bigger boy said the last part in a ridiculous high-pitched imitation of a toddler’s fussy whine, shooting his brother a cruel smirk. Noah pouted. He didn’t really sound like that, did he?
“No.” Noah replied confidently. At least, he didn’t think he had to go. He usually had at least ten or twenty minutes after he felt the urge. “But Daddy said-”
“Dad gave me another job to do.” Felix informed him, navigating his way through the aisles of the store. “See?” He took out his smartphone, pretending to read a notification. “Pick up diapers for your baby brother.”
“It does not say that!” Noah objected.
“Close enough.” Felix shrugged, lowering his phone to show his brother the real message. Rather than a standard chore on the app, it was an actual text from Dad this time.
“Just packing Noah’s bag for the sleep-over tonight and his top dresser drawer is looking pretty empty. Can you swing by the Drug-Mart and pick him up some back-up? Money on your GoHenry.”
Noah felt a chill go down his spine as he noticed the racks of plastic packages stacked up around them, realising they were already standing in the middle of the baby aisle. He looked from side to side, suddenly terrified by the thought that someone from school might also be in the shop - but no-one seemed to be paying them any attention.
“Urgh…fine. L-let’s just grab them then.” Noah tried to say calmly, though he was stuttering over his words. If they needed to do this, it was best just to get it other with. Maybe they could even use the self check-out?
He got up onto his tippy toes, reaching for a package of Small to Medium Goodnites featuring an intimidating illustration of The Incredible Hulk on the front. They were the same kind Dad had ordered the last time he needed a top up. It had taken Noah nearly a whole summer of family days out to work his way through the previous package of Cars themed bright baby blue pull-ups, and even then Dad wouldn’t order the plain dark blue Large sized Goodnites that Noah had actually wanted, but the boy had felt a lot better wearing something marketed for four to seven year olds than for actual toddlers.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Felix interrupted, swiping the dark blue package out of the smaller boy’s grip.
“Huh?”
Felix smirked, simultaneously returning the Goodnites to a high shelf out of Noah’s reach and picking out a similar dark blue plastic package. Rather than the relatively grown-up picture of the Hulk however, this one featured an adorable dozing three-year-old in a red shirt - his legs slightly bowed outwards to accommodate the unusually thick overnight diaper he was wearing. Noah’s nostrils flared in annoyance as he read the chunky bubble letters - ‘HUGGIES OVERNITES’.
“These seem more your speed.” his brother teased.
“Put those back.” Noah mumbled, grumpily crossing his arms and averting his eyes - not even wanting to look at the horribly infantile things. “I don’t wear diapers.”
Felix scoffed. “I’m not kidding!” he informed him. “Dad only sent me 15 bucks. Your fancy schmancy diapers are 20. I’m not paying five dollars of my own money just so you can pretend you’re not wearing a diaper.”
“They’re different!” Noah insisted, raising his voice. He sputtered helplessly, struggling to articulate himself as his eyes darted back and forth across the promotional images. They just looked so thick! “They…I’m…You can’t!”
“Alright, alright.” Felix relented, making a calming downward gesture with his hands. “Don’t have a tantrum.” He put the diapers to one side, reaching for a purple package of pull-ups featuring Toy Story designs. “I guess you could maybe wear these. But it says they’re just for big kids. Are you a big kid?”
“What?”
“Ya know. Are you a big kid?” Felix repeated, smiling a broad maniacal smirk as a plan seemed to come together in his head. “Like the song.”
Noah clenched up his fists, he had a feeling he already knew what Felix wanted. “Yeah.” he whispered.
“Prove it.” Felix prompted.
The smaller boy hesitated for just a few seconds before he took a sharp intake of breath. “I’m a big kid now…” he exhaled very quietly indeed, barely more than a whisper and with no more than a semblance of a tune.
“Huh?” Felix insisted, feigning confusion. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I’m a big kid now!” Noah sang as loud as he dared this time, attracting a few curious stares from nearby grown-ups. They smiled in adoration, seemingly convinced that the interaction between the two young brothers was entirely innocent. Noah wished that the ground would swallow him up right there and then, his cheeks turning as red as two rosy apples.
Even worse however, it was all for nothing. “Naw.” Felix dismissed “I’m pretty sure you’re a baby dork.” He summarily returned the pull-ups to their proper place, pointing an instructive finger at the blond toddler jumping energetically on the front. “This is a big kid. See? His pull-up isn’t all yellow and leaking pee-pee.”
Noah had no choice but to follow swiftly behind Felix as he conveyed the Huggies diapers confidently towards the check-out. He had to walk as quickly as he could to keep up with the taller boy’s normal pace, his hot red cheeks fuming with anger. “You said you wouldn’t!” Noah objected. “If you didn’t say, I wouldn’t have sang the stupid song!”
“Hmm, I’m pretty sure I just told you to prove it.” Felix pointed out, his tone infuriatingly calm. “But I guess that’s impossible for you - since you’re a baby dork, not a big kid.”
“Dad’s gonna be so mad at you!” Noah threatened baselessly “You’re gonna get in so much trouble!”
“A diaper’s a diaper.” Felix countered. “And these are in budget and more absorbent. I’m being thrifty.” They finally arrived at the check-out. There wasn’t any line, so Felix simply plopped them down in front of the register. “Just these please - for my baby brother.” he announced self-assuredly.
Noah felt the urge to say something more, but the moment had passed. He puffed up his red cheeks, pouting up at the ceiling.
“No pull-ups for the big kid?” the cashier, a motherly older-looking woman pried as she scanned the bulky package of Huggies.
Noah froze up in humiliation. Felix, similarly caught off guard by the consequences of his cruel game, could only make a dumb grunt. “Huh?”
“Your little brother.” The cashier clarified. “He just sang the song so sweetly - I thought you might be starting potty training.”
“Oh no, well…that was just. I mean, my Dad said to get diapers and…” Felix flubbed, clearly at a loss for words.
“I wear real underwear!” Noah found himself interjecting boldly, despite the mortifying implication. Felix shot him a dirty look.
The cashier looked confused, setting down the diapers and putting a hesitant finger on a button on the register. “Did…you wanna swap these out for something else?”
“No!” Felix exclaimed. He took a sharp breath, getting it together before he seamlessly spun a fresh mesh of mistruths. “He’s usually just in diapers for bedtime.” he informed the cashier. “Right, buddy?”
His brother’s new-found confidence seemed to drain any of the same from Noah. He could only offer a tiny affirmatory squeak.
The cashier turned over the package of diapers, the word ‘Overnites’ printed in big bubble letters confirming Felix’s story. “Ah! I see…”
“Or like…long car journeys and days out and stuff.” Felix continued, a self-assured smile slowly growing on his face. “He wears big kid undies to school, obviously. Just started Kindergarten.” He lied.
The cashier nodded. “Oh, you’re a really big boy then aren’t you?” she cooed. “I did think he was a little tall for…”
“He prefers Goodnites, or Pull-ups or whatever he can put on himself - but Dad says he’s a heavy wetter, so I’m meant to get diapers.” Felix concluded, shooting a self-congratulatory smirk Noah’s way as if warning not to dare contradict him any further. The smaller boy got the message, averting his eyes to stare at the ground.
“Well, these are definitely the most heavy-duty ones we have.” The cashier agreed, going ahead and bagging up the package for them as Felix pressed his card against the machine. It gave a loud beep, confirming the purchase. “You boys have a good Halloween!”
“Thanks! You too!” Felix said hurriedly, quickly ushering Noah out of the building and back out into the rain.
Noah was still fuming as he plodded along the path that ran through the local park, heavily sploshing his rain boots into the puddles - but now it seemed, so was Felix. As soon as they were out of sight of the store, he aggressively thumped him in the shoulder.
“Ow!” Noah complained, making a pitiful puppy dog expression.
“Who said you could talk, huh?” Felix growled. The look on Noah’s face only seemed to make him more angry. His face contorted in anger and he balled up his fists again, looking as if he was preparing to sock the smaller boy directly in the stomach. He stopped himself however, taking a step back and regarding him with disgust.
It hadn’t even hurt that much, but for some reason Noah felt like he was on the verge of tears. “I’m telling Daddy.”
Felix rolled his eyes. “No, you’re not.”
“I am!”
“You’re not.” Felix growled, putting an end to the conversation. There were a few moments where neither of them said anything, both boys listening silently to the sound of the rain pitter-pattering against their water proof jackets. Eventually however, Felix seemed to come to some kind of decision. He gave a heavy sigh. “Alright, sit on the grass.” he instructed.
Noah twisted around, looking at the sodden lawn beside the path. “But it's muddy.”
“That’s the point!” Felix hissed. He snatched Noah’s umbrella out of his grip, giving him a forceful shove “Sit down!”
Noah’s rain boots slipped on the wet paving slab and he teetered off balance, momentarily wobbling back and forth before he plopped down butt-first on the mucky muddy perimeter of the lawn. Felix immediately pressed a dirrty soccer boot into the crotch of his shorts, keeping him from getting up.
The little teen let out a high-pitched moan of displeasure, sounding like a deflating squeaky toy. “It’s grooooss.” he whined.
Felix didn’t let up. “Rub your butt in it.” he demanded. When Noah didn’t obey straight away, he pressed his boot more forcefully into his crotch - as if it threatening to swab him back and forth himself like a mop across a filthy floor. Noah winced in pain at the feeling of the soccer studs pinching into his thighs, reluctantly scooching his backside up and down in the mud. Eventually, Felix seemed satisfied. He removed his boot, allowing his brother to scramble back to his feet.
The boy twisted around, trying to get a look at the huge brown stain now present on the back of his shorts. “Why’d you make me do that?” he complained.
“Cause you’re a toddler.” Felix informed him in a disgusted tone. “A shorts-staining pants-pooping two-year-old toddler. So get used to it.”
The boy blushed. Of course it wasn’t a real accident, but it certainly looked like one. “I’m telling Daddy…” he whispered again, almost reflexively.
“If you say that one more time, we won’t be going home until you’ve pooped yourself for real.” Felix snapped. “And I’ll take a video. And it’ll be on YouTube tonight. And everything else too. So shut it.”
Noah usually didn’t take that kind of threat too seriously, but Felix wasn’t being his usual smirking sarcastic self. He actually seemed really angry. It seemed he didn’t like being shown up. Noah gave a tiny nod.
“We’re telling Dad you were playing Cowboys in the rain and you slipped, got it?”
He gave another miniscule nod of agreement. It wasn’t like he had a better story - or at least one that didn’t end with his soggy pull-up clad butt being the talk of the middle school hallway.
Dad gave an adoring tut as Noah stepped in from the front porch, already setting about unzipping his raincoat and helping him kick off his boots as he assessed the damage on the shorts.
Of course, Dad had accepted Felix’s lie without question - assuming the conspicuous brown stain was the result of nothing more than a rambunctious little boy’s excitement for the upcoming Cowboy-themed sleepover at the town museum. Dad went right ahead and unzipped Noah’s shorts for him, discarding the soiled garment on a heap on the mat before he pulled him into an affectionate cuddle.
“You’re such a mucky puppy!” he teased, getting a big whiff of his littler son’s particularly pungent body odour as he rolled up his school polo up over his tummy and above his chest, raising his bare armpits to jettison that too. “Yuck! And a stinky one too.” Dad playfully tickled Noah’s bare belly, making the boy give an energetic yip hardly consonant to his current mood. “I think it's bath time for yucky mucky puppies.”
Felix let out an amused snort, his mood clearly improved by his recent show of dominance.
“Can’t I have a shower instead?” Noah pleaded.
“Afraid not, bud. We’re gonna be out of the house all night, so we gotta make sure we take care of all the nooks and crannies.” Noah shot his brother a foul look, but he knew better than to argue with his step-Dad. He scampered quickly out of the room and up the stairs. “And sit on the potty too!” Dad shouted up from below.
Arriving in Dad’s ensuite where the bath was, Noah twisted open the stiff faucet before squeezing in a hefty dollop of gel from the Johnson’s baby bubble bath bottle. The first time Dad had given him a bath - the same tearful vulnerable afternoon he’d peed himself at Dig Dig World - Noah had refused to use any bubble bath at all, on account of the fact that it was clearly labelled for babies. That had been a mistake. Without any obfuscating bubbles, the water had been as clear as a beach in the Bahamas. After that, he could hardly say Dad was lying when he claimed to have “seen everything before”, and occasional Dad-assisted bath nights became just another part of Noah’s ever increasingly infantile routine.
The boy frowned as he took notice of himself standing in front of Dad’s full length mirror, dressed only in his lime green toy story briefs. How was it that he didn’t yet have a speck of hair on his whole body? He was thirteen! Wasn’t he meant to be like….developing by now? Everyone was constantly reminding him that he smelt like a teenager at least - hardly a day went by without Felix making some comment about his ‘baby stink’ - but Noah was starting to worry that that was the only sign of adolescence that he was ever going to show. Maybe it wasn’t puberty after all. Maybe he was just a dumb stinky toddler, just like Felix said.
The boy flexed and made a body builder pose, but that only made him look more like a little kid playing pretend. He glanced at the bright turquoise pack of Pampers baby wipes Dad had set out on the bathroom counter, remembering something stupid Felix had told him the other day.
“You don’t have any hair down there ‘cause Dad’s always wiping you with those things.” he’d informed him, speaking with the same easy confidence he’d employed in the convenience store as the two of them got ready for bed. The two brothers still had to share a room, but Dad said that would be a thing of the past thanks to Mom’s new job. Noah could hardly wait. “They’ve got like…special chemicals. For babies. Meant to make their skin all soft and smooth, but just works just the same on you.”
It was such a dumb thing to say, and of course Felix had just made it up to mess with him - but the more Noah stared at his smooth, soft, baby-wipeable body, the more he started to worry. Dad was all over him with those things. After every meal, he’d always wipe his face all-over. Sometimes, if he was particularly sweaty after running around in the garden or at the park, he’d have to take off his shirt and let Dad wipe down everywhere from under his armpits to inside his belly-button. And of course, whenever he wound up peeing a pull-up…
Noah narrowed his eyebrows with anxiety, turning his attention instead to his Dad’s shaving stuff on the sink. Now that he thought about it, Dad was the opposite of smooth and soft. He was bristly all over - his face the texture of an old-boot even when clean-shaven. Acting without thinking, Noah grabbed a can of shaving cream and cautiously pressed down on the button. A much larger glob than he expected came shooting out of the can, making a foamy mess all over Noah’s hands and tummy and dripping down onto the sink. Noah cursed under his breath, but kept going. He ran the hot water tap, leaving a smear of foam where his hand had been. Then, taking a fistful of the mess he haphazardly applied a thick layer to his face and reached for the gleaming razor.
“Wow, buddy!” Dad’s voice interrupted, swooping in and easily plucking the dangerous implement from Noah’s hand. “That’s not for little boys.”
“I’m not little.” Noah whined, even as Dad heaved him up onto his hip and shimmied off his undies - plopping him naked in the bubble bath.
“I know you want to be just like Daddy.” Dad smiled, shutting off the bath water and getting right down to business soaking a wash-cloth. “But that’s a real razor. It can hurt you.”
“I was gonna be careful…” Noah harrumphed. He crossed his legs together bashfully under the bubbles, annoyed at how casually Dad had stripped him down.
“I have just the thing.” Dad told him, turning around and looking through the big cupboard under the sink where he kept the bath toys. He soon produced a bright red and blue hunk of moulded plastic designed to look just like a regular safety razor - though of course, without the blade. “Felix used to love this thing. Why don’t you see if you can shave off all that foam while I get you squeaky clean?”
Noah let out an unhappy groan, but did as he was told - tracing the toy across his chin as Dad got to work. At least this way he could try to ignore the ticklish feeling of the wash-cloth scouring and scrubbing against each and every part of him. As Dad guided it around under his arm-pits and down to his tummy, Noah’s involuntary snorting and squirming left him feeling as if he’d been freshly stripped of any hint of adolescence in much the same way as with the baby-wipes, leaving him no more than a silly giggly two-year-old.
A plastic cup of warm soapy water poured over his head soon put an end to Noah’s play time, leaving him with his thoughts. As Dad lathered up his hair with shampoo and rinsed it away again, tenderly untangling some mud that had somehow got caked in his hair earlier, he thought briefly of tattling. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as Felix said? Maybe Dad would take away his phone, and his brother would never get the chance to post all those videos and pictures of him? But no. It was too risky. For everything that had happened at home, school was the one place that people still treated him as something approaching a teenager - but he knew that would all change if the other kids knew how often he ended up in pull-ups.
For just a moment, the boy wished he really was only two. At least then no one could make fun of him for all this stuff, and he could tattle all he liked. It’s not like anything would really change that much. Felix was right. Dad really did treat him like a toddler.
“Alright bud, stand up. We’re almost done.”
Thinking he might finally be able to escape, Noah did as he was told - but no sooner had he clambered shyly to his feet than Dad clamped a strong arm around his torso, clenching him immobile in place as started to wipe down his butt.
“Daddy-!” Noah exclaimed in shock, shuddering like a restrained baby elephant, but Dad only held him tighter - making sure he didn’t trip on the slippery suds.
“Stand still, buddy.” Dad warned, continuing on unabated. “You really are a mucky pup.” he teased with a disapproving tut. “I think we’re gonna have to work on wiping back here after you go potty. No wonder you’ve still got stains in your undies.”
Noah was at a loss for words. Going as loose as a ragdoll, it was easy for Dad to scoop him up again and wrap him from head to toe in a big white fluffy towel - carrying the oversized toddler into the adjoining bedroom like a floppy, awkward, long-limbed dalmatian puppy.
When Dad set him down on the bed again, lying him down flat with his towel spread out behind like a baby ready for a change, the sight of the neat bundle folded up beside him snapped Noah back to reality. Just as expected, Dad had already set out his costume - but nestled neatly on top in a chillingly nonchalant fashion was one of the thick, cushiony, crisp diapers Felix had bought earlier that afternoon. The specially absorbent, overnight, heavy-wetter diapers. The tape up diapers.
“No!” Noah protested with uncharacteristic boldness, trying to sit up - but Dad just pushed him back flat again. “I can’t wear a diaper!”
“I know it’s not ideal, buddy. But these are the ones we have - and it's not so different from pull-ups.”
Noah crossed his arms petulantly. “Felix bought the wrong ones on purpose. You should make him wear them.”
Dad rolled his eyes at the absurd suggestion. “I’m sure that’s not true. Besides, we’re going to be away from home until tomorrow morning. This might be safer in the end.”
“But what if I have to go potty?”
“I don’t want you to worry about that.”
“But everyone will see!”
“It’s just like your pull-ups, buddy. I promise.” Dad reassured, unfolding the crinkly thing. The heft of it was obvious - each side as thick as Dad’s palm. “No one will know unless you want to tell them.”
Noah let out a grumble. “They will…”
“Did anybody know on the 4th of July? Or on Labour Day?” Dad prompted.
“I dunno…”
“Well nobody said anything, did they?” He continued “Did anybody know at Trunk or Treat last week?”
Noah hesitated, recalling another rainy day wandering around the Elementary school parking lot. It was kinda true. Under all the water-proof layers and the dumb dungarees Dad had made him wear, he’d almost forgotten he was in pull-ups himself.
“We even had a little oopsie then, and nobody was any the wiser.” Dad concluded. “Even Felix.”
Noah blushed at the reminder. All those layers had come with other problems, too. Luckily, Dad had been discreet. “I guess…but this is different!”
It didn’t really matter what Noah thought, however. Dad had already convinced himself, and that was all that mattered. “Hmmm, let me see if I can remember how to do this…” He considered, inspecting the dangling papery wings of the diaper.
“Hurry up!” Noah demanded, kicking his legs impatiently. Now that it was clear that resistance was futile, he would much rather than it was over and done with than have to lie around naked on Dad’s make-shift changing mat like a gurgling empty-headed toddler. He grabbed the hem of the towel he was laying on, trying to gather up enough material to give himself some modesty.
Dad easily brushed his hand aside, wanting a clear view to work. “Don’t get all whiny on me now.” he tutted, finally seeming to remember what he was doing. He took both of Noah’s ankles in one ginormous calloused hand and cantilevered his bare butt into the air - sliding the diaper underneath. “Right…” he hummed, again halting to an excruciatingly slow pace as he tried to figure out what was next.
“Daaaaddddy!” Noah complained. By now, the boy was no stranger to the crinkly disposable material under his butt - but he could already tell this particular variety was much thicker and much more absorbent than he was used to. He fidgeted and flopped around onto his side, hating how exposed he felt, but with Dad holding him in place like a fish on a hook he only succeeded in making a series of conspicuous crinkling noises.
“I guess I should have known you’d be a wriggler. Your brother was the same way.” Dad chuckled, finally folding up the front part of the diaper and flattening out the wings so that Noah was covered. The boy relaxed a little after that, though his cheeks were still hot red with humiliation. “And done.” Dad concluded, securely affixing each tape tight on the Winnie the Pooh-themed landing zone. “Don’t you feel better now you’ve got some back-up on your tush?”
“No.” Noah spat back stubbornly, crossing his arms. He stretched out his legs as Dad let go, making the diaper crinkle. The babyish protection felt much much thicker than his regular Goodnites - like he was wearing a whole pillow between his legs.
Dad didn’t seem to require Noah’s approval. In short order, he got him dressed in the rest of his now familiar Cowboy costume - buttoning up a bright blue western fringed shirt, plopping a cowboy hat on his still slightly damp golden curls, and even tying a red neckerchief around his neck. In his current state, Noah couldn’t have felt more babyish if Dad had opted for an actual baby bib.
“What do you think buddy?” Dad offered, leaving Noah pantsless and with his diaper on display as he held up two potential options for his bottom half. “Dangerous Dungarees again? Or Cool Cowboy jeans?”
“Jeans.” Noah decided quickly, eagering pointing to the reasonably mature soft faux-denim pants, complete with a thick grey elastic waistband. Jeans were certainly more grown-up than dungarees. Last time, he’d looked more like a preschooler waddling around a petting zoo than a rough tough cowboy.
“Okie-dokie.” Dad agreed, pushing Noah’s legs into the air again to shimmy him into the pants. The finishing touches were a faded brown jacket complete with a golden sheriff’s star and a pair of matching cowboy chaps with the crotch cut out - both of the felt garments ornamented with thematic leather tassels. He helped Noah to his feet, patting him twice encouragingly on his butt as he took his first hesitant steps.
The thickness of the diaper was even more noticeable as Noah toddled in circles around Dad’s bedroom, as if he were testing a new pair of shoes. With each cringing step, the loud whoosh and rustle of the material and the poofy cushioning pushing his thighs apart reminded him that he was back in proper baby diapers, with a bow legged baby waddle to match. “I can’t even walk properly!” Noah complained.
“Don’t be silly - you can barely notice.” Dad beamed, energetically scooping the boy up and heaving him up on his hip to spare him any further misery. He lifted up the boy’s colourful shirt, prodding a playful finger just above where the diaper’s waistband tickled at his belly button. “And if anyone says anything, you can just tell them it's your special cowboy walk.”
Noah could only puff out his red cheeks. He wondered if it was possible to spend the whole night sitting on Dad’s hip. Perhaps that way no one would even work out he was in a diaper.
The plan had actually worked - at least for a little while. Clinging to his Dad like a particularly stubborn barnacle, Noah had avoided taking even one crinkle-butt-swaying step for a good 30 minutes after their arrival at the town museum. Of course, the site of the bashful big kid being ferried around on his Daddy’s hip had drawn some of its own ridicule - and not just from Felix. The eleven-year-old, dressed for the occasion in tastefully modest cowboy hat and bolo tie combo, had soon lost interest in pricking at his baby big brother. He slunk away to watch the “Spooky Movie” screening in the media room with Mason before he could work out there was an extra inch of padding between Noah’s thighs - at least, as far as the boy could tell.
Abdicating control of his legs to Dad had some other down-sides though. Not least was Dad going right ahead and carrying him to the Old West Exhibit, a prominent sign informing them that this was the meeting spot for ‘Overnight Camping Cowpokes Aged Four to Seven’. Noah could only wriggle helplessly as he watched Dad fill out the form to sign him in, an ambiguous smudge making up the last digit of his year of birth.
The meddling six-year-olds that soon began to circle were curious about the same thing.
“How old is he?” One with a yellow neckerchief inquired.
“Why are you holding him like a baby?” Another demanded.
Dad patted Noah’s butt affectionately, hiking him up higher onto his hip with some effort. “Noah’s just feeling a little shy.” he explained. “You ready to get down now, buddy?”
Noah fervently shook his head, glad Dad hadn’t answered the first question. He glanced around the room, spying the museum staff in their distinctive purple polo shirts. What would Dad even say if he had to give a precise answer? Five? Four? Younger? There was no doubt Dad had long since demoted him to little boy-hood, but his exact place in the hierarchy still remained an ever-changing mystery.
Eventually, one of the purple-shirted organisers blew a whistle - cutting through the babbling gaggle of little cowboys. The lady explained that they would soon be starting a scavenger hunt, and that the kids were to be given full-reign of the Old West exhibits to search for special treasures hidden around the museum. She started to read out the first clue, apparently aware that some of the kids in this age bracket would probably struggle with a written worksheet, but Noah didn’t really pay attention. It’s not like he could search for much from his Dad’s hip anyway.
“Alright, bud - down you come.” Dad suddenly told him, giving barely a second’s warning before he lowered him down onto his feet.
“Daddy, no!” Noah hissed, bending his legs awkwardly. He was too frightened to take a step. He tried to cling on to Dad’s leg for support, but the big man had already moved away.
“I can’t carry you around all night.” Dad informed him. “My back’s hurting. Besides, you have your games to play and I need to grab something from the car.”
“But!” Noah interjected, not really sure what possible excuse he could have for Dad to pick him up again. A familiar tingle at the bottom of his tummy gave him an out. He bent his legs some more and squeezed at the padding over his crotch, making a sad puppy dog face. “You gotta take me to the potty…”
Dad rolled his eyes, momentarily coming within Noah’s reach again to muss up his hair. Immediately, Noah wrapped his arms around Dad’s waist - begging to be picked up again. “How bad you gotta go?” Dad inquired.
“Bad.” Noah lied.
“I’m not sure I know where the bathrooms are around here…” Dad said hesitantly, looking around. He gave a sigh. “If it's really that bad, I don’t mind if you use your diaper.” The word made Noah scrunch up his face. “Remember what that pamphlet the nurse gave you said? You’re not supposed to hold it till it hurts.”
Noah shot his Dad a sour glare, a mix of betrayal and scandalised horror. “I’m not a baby.”
“I know you’re not, buddy.” Dad reassured, disentangling himself from Noah’s hug and stepping towards the door. “I’ll be right back. Just let me know then if you’re…uncomfortable.”
With Dad gone, Noah remained frozen to the spot as the other kids gathered into groups for the scavenger hunt. His eyes darted all around the room, hyper focused on how out of place he must have looked. Everyone was looking at him! Of course they were - he was standing alone in the middle of the room, eyes wide and squatting like a toddler filling their pants. It was no use. He decided he had to take a step, diaper or no diaper. If nothing else, he had to find a bathroom.
As he felt the papery bulk rub against his inner leg, taking his first rustling step - a loud shout cut through the echoey hall. Noah cringed. He’d been found out!
“Oh, we don’t need him.” Max, dressed in a cool jean jacket and blue neckerchief, informed his fellow first graders. He had a self-assured smirk that looked all too much like the one Felix liked to wear. His loud voice cut through the chatter, naturally taking charge of a small group of wannabe cool cowboys. “He’s like…a total baby!”
Noah stopped moving again, shooting the annoying little kid a withering glare. He’d mostly managed to avoid the twerp after Dig Dig World - but it was hard to stay completely away from Mason’s little brother. At any Tiger’s event over the summer, the ‘little siblings’ in attendance had naturally had some contact. It helped that Dad knew they didn’t get on, though. If it wasn’t for him, Max would have made sure half the town saw his pull-ups on the jumbotron.
“One time, when we were watching my brother’s baseball game, a fly ball got kinda close to him and he was so scared that he cried!”
“It did so hit me!” Noah contradicted angrily, stamping his feet and making his diaper rustle. It was true. He’d got a little ketchup on his shirt, so Dad had made him take it off - but when a ball hit him in the shoulder it had left a bruise as big as his fist.
“And! And! And!” Max continued excitedly. “He’s not allowed in the tee-ball team anymore, ‘cause one time he went to practice, and diapers aren’t allowed at tee-ball, so he peed on the ball!”
Noah was getting red in the face he was so frustrated. It wasn’t a tee-ball practice! And he hadn’t been banned from the team! And Max hadn’t even been there!
“Stop LYING!” Noah screamed at the top of his lungs.
Max snorted. “See?” he smirked, arrogantly crossing his arms. “Total baby.”
The six-year-olds giggled in agreement, sauntering away with Max. As he passed the spot where the organiser had instructed everyone to set up their things for the night, the ring-leader took off his cowboy hat and coolly flung it like a frisbee to land at the foot of his sleeping bag.
Slowly, the room emptied out as the kids followed the organiser’s directions towards the first clue. Still seething, Noah looked curiously towards Max’s things - eyeing in particular his unzipped backpack. The diapered tyke shuffled hesitantly towards it, before crouching down to get a better look. Sure enough, the neatly folded cotton package tightly tucked into one of the internal pockets was a pair of boxer shorts. As if drawn by the allure of a rare mythical artefact, the boy couldn’t help but pluck them out of their place - unfolding them to get a better look.
Red and navy blue, they were printed all-over with a soccer ball design, the words “EPIC SKILLZ” printed prominently on the waistband in a slanted sporty font. Noah grimaced. Despite being less than half his age, Max’s underwear was about three rungs up on the maturity scale from any of the infantile hand-me-downs lingering in Noah’s own undies drawer. And of course, they were in a whole different universe to the crinkly diaper taped together under his jeans. The label on the inside waistband stated that they were Size 6 - a perfect fit. That sealed the deal.
The boy felt a tickling funny feeling in his tummy as he stuffed the boxers into his jeans pocket, briefly considering that stealing underwear from a six-year-old was hardly very moral - nor very mature. He soon pushed that feeling away, however. It didn’t matter. Max was a bully, and Noah needed something to wear that wasn’t designed to contain a toddler’s ‘oopsies’. As the boy rushed into a darkened neighbouring exhibit in search of somewhere to change, having no regard to his diaper noisily and obviously whooshing back and forth as he ran, he chuckled to himself as he imagined himself planting his soon-to-be-discarded ‘back-up’ in Max’s back-pack - the humiliating things framing the obnoxious six-year-old ‘cool kid’ as just another dumb diaper baby.
In his excitement, Noah soon found himself well beyond the Old West Exhibit. The rooms he was walking through now had no lights on at all, and clearly weren’t intended for exploration by attendees of the Halloween sleep-over. He slowed down as he came to a high walkway above the dinosaurs, trying to figure out exactly where he was and how he could get to a bathroom. He groaned, the continuous crinkling he produced with each tiny movement nagging at him like nails on a chalkboard. He decided to just go ahead and change. It wasn’t like anyone was here. Besides, he wasn’t anywhere near as desperate as he’d pretended to Dad. He could hold it. He would find a bathroom later.
Noah first stripped off his tasselled Cowboy chaps, and then set about unbuttoning his jeans. He retrieved the boxers from the pocket, then hung both over the top of the glass barrier which guarded the walk-way from the long drop below. The boy grimaced, putting his hands on his hips as he stared down at the thick layer of disposable material between his legs. He couldn’t believe he’d been wearing a baby diaper for the whole night.
The kid was about to rip away the tabs, when a powerful force seized his arms - pinning them behind his back like a detained criminal.
“Stop right there, baby burglar!” he heard Max declare triumphantly, though he couldn’t see him.
“Owww!” Noah cried out in pain, trying in vain to wiggle free - but that only made it hurt more. He gasped, a small hand hitting him firmly in the gut and causing another stabbing pain before that was replaced with a strangely soothing sensation of release. He was peeing. There was a hiss, and a little warm spot, and then a growing faint yellowing discoloration started to spread across the pristine white padding. The boy let out a defeated moan. He was peeing his diaper.
Max soon noticed what had happened. “Gross!” he complained, immediately letting go of Noah’s arms and pushing him away in disgust. Even though his bladder was still mid-release, Noah was quick to act - grabbing his chaps from the bannister. Unfortunately, Max was just as quick, simultaneously securing the jeans.
“GIVE ME MY PANTS BACK!” Noah yelled. At this point, just the look on Max’s face was enough to send the little teen into full toddler tantrum mode.
“No!” Max shouted, matching his energy. “You stole my underwear!” The kid wrinkled his nose at the thought. “You were probably gonna pee all over them.”
“GIVE THEM BACK!” Noah kept on yelling, making a lunge for the jeans - but he was distracted by the sensation of a now soggy warm mass between his thighs. To its credit, the diaper was holding up. Despite seeming to have expanded even further to an almost impossible bulk, it wasn’t sagging at all.
Unburdened by such considerations, Max could move quicker, skipping back and holding the jeans tantalisingly out of reach. “Aww, look at the widdle baby tryna walk.” he mocked. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes!”
“Go get it then.” Max declared, flinging them over the walkway.
“No!” Noah cried out in dismay, watching the jeans flutter down the large open space only to snag atop the spiked horn of a triceratops skeleton.
Max giggled triumphantly at the result. He retrieved his underpants from the place on the floor where Noah had dropped them, “I don’t think you’re ready for these.” he teased, sticking out his tongue at the boy before rushing off back into the darkened museum.
Some time later, Noah’s diaper was starting to get cold. Thinking it better than wearing nothing at all on his bottom half, he’d slipped his cowboy chaps back on - but of course they did nothing to hide the obviously soiled diaper framed perfectly in the cut out section of the brown felt garment.
Deciding there was absolutely no way he could return to the sleepover in his current state, Noah was wandering aimlessly through the different exhibits. It was kinda spooky, only the dim yellow light of the tall glass cabinets illuminating dusty civil war uniforms and faded native american plumages in the otherwise pitch-black hall, but Noah tried to remain calm. He would find something to wear at some point - perhaps something left over at the coat check, or even a little kids dress up station - and then he could finally rip off his dumb soggy diaper.
“Oh. My. God.” A voice cut ominously through the darkness as he turned into the Ancient Egypt exhibit. Noah stiffened up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up to attention as a figure emerged from behind one of the glass cabinets. The boy whimpered. Was it a mummy? Or a skeleton? Or a ghost? He let out the tiniest extra dribble of pee, warming up the cold damp material a little.
But no - it was only Felix. “Was that Dad’s idea?” he sneered, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Or did you have to beg him to put you in a diapee?”
“Leave me alone…” Noah mumbled. He shyly crossed his legs, doing nothing to hide the diaper. Despite his multiple accidents, it was still holding up fairly well - the robust material probably holding capacity for another full wetting, despite the discoloration. That was the tiniest of silver linings. If he’d been wearing a pull-up, it would have been long since expired, and he’d have nothing to cover himself at all.
“Aww, you look just like the baby on the package!” Felix continued to narrate. He slunk around behind him, giving Noah’s padded butt a firm swat.
Noah swung around to face him again, balling up his fists threatening at his side. “What are you even doing here?” he grumbled. “I thought you were watching the movie.”
“I was, but Dad said you’d gone missing.” Felix informed him, briefly flashing his phone. “Why’d you sneak off? Too shy to pee yourself in public?”
“I was looking for a bathroom.” Noah grumbled. It wasn’t the whole truth, but he was hardly going to tell Felix about Max’s underwear.
That answer really made Felix laugh. “Bad luck.” he smirked, aggressively snatching on to Noah’s hand and starting to frog-march him swiftly through the exhibits.”Honestly, I don’t know why you even try. Diapers suit you.”
Bursting through the doors to the Old West exhibit, Felix had absolutely no regard for Noah’s modesty. The cowboy campers had finished their games for the evening, and were all gathered cross-legged in front of one of the purple-shirted organisers in the middle of giving a talk.
“I found him!” Felix shouted out, practically dragging the smaller boy to the front of the gathered group before he finally let go of his hand. “Oh, and I think he’s wet.”
Dad, who had been sitting in a chair off to the side, got to his feet at once - letting Noah run desperately towards him and bury his face in his tummy. The group of little cowboys and cowgirls soon lost interest in the organiser’s boring monotone, their attention instead turning to Noah’s babyish attire. There was a cacophony of giggles, the words ‘baby’, ‘diaper’ and ‘accident’ pricking out from the chaotic din like needles in Noah’s ears. He hugged his Dad as tight as he could, trying not to cry.
“Oh, Buddy. What happened?” Dad questioned, comfortingly rubbing his back. “Where did your pants get to, hmm?”
Noah just shook his head. There was no way he was telling Dad about that, either. He gathered the courage to peek out from behind Dad’s shirt for just a second, momentarily spotting Max smirking at him from amongst the crowd. “Lost ‘em…” he muttered vaguely.
“Alright, everybody!” The organiser interrupted, trying to gain control again. “I’m sure we’re all very happy that Noah found his way back, but if we just get back to the story…”
The crowd soon hushed, and much to Noah’s relief so did Dad - not bothering to ask any more humiliating questions. He escorted Noah out of view to the back of the crowd, sitting down cross-legged on the floor with the boy in his lap. Felix sat beside his Dad on the floor, seemingly much more interested in his baby brother’s diapered antics than anything that could be happening on the silver screen in the next room.
Cuddling Noah tightly, Dad gently patted the front of his diaper. Meanwhile, the exhausted little teen let his droopy eye-lids close, letting the organiser’s dull droning voice fade into the background as he listened to the comforting sound of his Dad’s heart beat. He snuggled against his soft cotton shirt and smelled his familiar smell, managing to forget all about Felix, and Max, and the other mean kids.
He soon entered a dulcet dream world, fleeting visions of a brave adult version of himself charging across open plains on a mighty stallion intermingling with alternate scenes of a two-year-old Noah giggling and gurgling mindlessly as he see-sawed excitedly back and forth on a rocking horse - jumping up and down atop his soggy saturated diaper. The second dream took over, pushing the first vision away. But Noah wasn’t upset at all by the fantastical scene. In fact, he felt strangely happy - just like the baby-him in the dream. He let out a high-pitched purring snore, content just to be warm and safe and to have a Daddy who loved him.
A long time later, Noah awoke with a start. He was tucked up under a blanket on the floor, still dressed in the same half-complete costume he’d fallen asleep in. The room was completely dark now, a sea of sleeping bags set out under the vast palatial museum dome.
“...he’s had a hard year, really.” Dad’s voice drifted through the air. He was maybe a few feet away, speaking in a serious tone to some unknown person. “What with his Mommy getting a new job halfway across the world, and the accidents, and well…the two of them don’t always get on as nice as I’d like…I don’t want to stress him out any more than I need to. I think it’s okay just to let him be little for a while, you know?”
“Stay at the tutorial level for a bit?” another voice joked.
“Exactly” Dad chuckled, then paused.“Well, at least he seems happy. Or happier than he was before.”
“That’s the most important thing.”
Noah furrowed his brow in confusion, trying to make sense of it all - but his brain was still stuck in a foggy, happy, toddler-dream haze. “Daddy?” he mumbled.
There was a clatter as Dad got up from his chair, putting a concerned hand on the boy’s head. “Everything okay, buddy?” he whispered.
The boy gave a vague moan, shifting his legs. His diaper crinkled, and he could feel that it was very wet now - but all that could wait.
“Uh-huh…” he confirmed, turning over and fluttering his eyes shut again. He felt a rough calloused hand gently stroke his hair, and he fell effortlessly back into dream world again - sleeping like a baby.