Published: April 3rd 2025, 1:45:58 am
“Sorry that took so long,” Kate said, “Annie’s in clean diapers now. She should be good for a while. Remember to speak up when you need to go, sis!”
“Like, I know,” I said, cheeks thoroughly flushed from both how I looked and how I was being treated in front of our parents. Obviously, I knew how to excuse myself and go to the bathroom. But also, I was really bad at undoing the diaper pins, to the point where I needed Kate to escort me so she could help. Of course, none of that would be a problem if I was wearing normal underwear!
Aunt Miranda then took over, summarizing the weekend from her perspective. How I had been surprisingly immature for my age the whole time, that I had wet the bed every night, and how she had decided to start treating me like a child until I started acting like the college girl I was supposed to be. Even then, it was ‘girl,’ rather than ‘young adult.’ Turning to my sister, she asked, “Has she made it to the toilet at all this weekend during the day?
Answering honestly, Kate said, “Once. But I was in there supervising her. I guess twice, if you count the time she went to the bathroom but pooped herself before she could get her diapers off.” Glancing towards our parents, she said, “It’s why we’re trying to get Annie to tell us as soon as she feels like she might have to go. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”
“But mostly, she’s been using her diapers during the day,” our aunt said, in case there had been any room for doubt between the explanations, “I believe she even needed a change when they arrived on Friday.”
“You were wearing diapers in the car?” our mother asked.
“It was a dare!!” I exclaimed. That much, I remembered clearly. It had also been pull-ups, rather than diapers, but that was the wrong thing to clarify in the grand scheme of things. “Kate said-”
“I dared you to have an accident in your diapers?” Kate asked, quickly reminding everyone that it was a lot more than just what I had been wearing.
Our mother looked noticeably skeptical. “You’re saying you’d use diapers on purpose if your sister dared you to?”
Well, no, but- Out of context, it sounded a lot more awkward than it actually was. “I mean, it wasn’t my fault!” I insisted, “Like, I don’t need diapers!”
“Yes, you do,” Aunt Miranda said, “And until you start acting like a mature girl, Annie-”
“How long has she been wearing them?” our mother asked. Instead of asking me directly, even though I was right there, she was looking for an answer from one of the others.
Blatantly lying to everyone, Kate said, “All summer. Maybe longer.”
“KATE.” Eyes widening, I immediately rejected the false history. Focusing on our parents, rather than anyone else, I said, “It’s not true.”
“I guess it’s not totally true,” Kate shrugged. For a second, it sounded like she was going to come clean about at least part of all this, until she elaborated in a way that only made it sound more realistic, “At first, she was just wetting the bed every night. But then she started having accidents during the day, and here we are. I don’t think she’s doing it for attention.”
“I’m not!” I snapped, realizing a second later that my denial about the attention element of her story made it sound like the rest was accurate. “It’s only been, like, a day or two! And, like, it’s all Kate’s fault!”
Aunt Miranda huffed out a sigh. “Annie’s been like this all weekend. Whining about everything, being difficult for no reason-”
“Walking around in used diapers because she didn’t want to admit she had another accident,” Kate added, “Acting like a total brat.”
“I’m not a BRAT.” Stomping my foot in frustration, hating how my sister had turned what I used to call her into a regular patronizing phrase for me over the last couple days, I said, “And it’s not ‘Annie.’ It’s Annelise!!”
It was Kate’s turn to sigh. “I told you what would happen if you had a tantrum, Annie.” She took out the pacifier and shoved it into my mouth. “Remember the rules?”
My eyes widened at the invasion, and I was instantly at war with myself. I didn’t want to go quiet and suck on the familiar bulb, yet I had been pretty successfully conditioned in just a matter of days. “Ngh mmph!” I shook my head, splitting the difference in yet another show of immaturity. Not just in the gesture, but in how my pigtails swung about in response to my movements.
Aunt Miranda addressed our parents, both of whom were impossible to read. They knew a completely different version of me, after all. Which is exactly what our aunt addressed. “For now, Kate and I have been treating Annie like a twelve year old, until she starts acting her age again. Kate has also been the one changing her diapers and coming up with punishments for all that. She’s been remarkably mature about all this. Annie has been . . . Well, I know she gets good grades, though maybe she picked up some bad habits during her freshman year or something.”
But, it was the opposite! Or, a different order. Or something! All I could really remember was bits and pieces of the first day; the rest of our stay was a total blur from just how many things I had to deal with as Kate’s ‘little sister.’ If anything, the way I was being treated was what was making me look immature, rather than the other way around. Right?
“Did you already talk about Annie staying?” Kate asked.
I looked at her in confusion for a moment, before realizing the earlier conversations about camp. That couldn’t be happening. Our parents were literally here, and this is the day we were supposed to be picked up by them.
“A little bit,” Aunt Miranda replied, “They said they wanted to see Annie before making a decision. I do think a less familiar environment might be useful, after so many accidents back home. But your parents know best!”
“I can’t believe she’s been wearing diapers that long,” our mother said.
‘Because it wasn’t true!!’
Kate just played innocent and said, “Annie swore me to secrecy when I found out. I didn’t want to betray her trust!”
Such a brat. Like I was one to talk.
In yet another instance of being talked about like I was barely there, our mother addressed my sister instead of me. “What do you think, Kate? Should Annelise spend some more time here, or come home with us?”