Site Logo

DailyDiapers is presented in part by our proud sponsors:


Daily Diapers is your Adult Baby, Diaper Lover and Age-Play Playground!

Home About Us Photos Videos Stories Reviews Forums & Chat Personals Links Advertise Donate Contact

After you've finished reading, you might want to return to the DailyDiapers Story Index


Blue is the Colour                                                                                                  by Les Lea

Simon Bonner had had a fantastic day. He’d just celebrated his twelfth birthday with a brilliant party, and there was still two weeks left of the long summer holidays before he had to return to Big School.

Not only that, but as a treat, his parents, John and Helen, had finally got around to redecorating and refurbishing his bedroom from being that for a child to one of an upcoming teenager. Out had gone the childish wallpaper and single bed, in had come a new carpet, double bed, trendy bedding, a new solid looking wardrobe with matching long chest of drawers (his mother had called it a dresser). Although this would provide plenty of space for storing clothes, it also had the benefit, as Simon saw it, of a long hard wood surface that would be great for holding a TV and all his other electronic equipment. He was twelve now so his parents had said he could have such things in his room, providing they didn’t interfere with sleep.

Simon loved what his parents had done and had been uncharacteristically happy about getting involved in choosing his own colour scheme. They were treating him differently. He was pleased to feel he was becoming an adult and not a kid any more.

Ever since he was a baby there had always been a pale blue night-light that every single night, since he’d moved into a room of his own when still only six months old, had kept him company. Throughout the room’s many changes that light had been the only true constant and if truth was told, Simon relied on that little glowing bulb to keep any nightmares at bay. In fact, as a toddler his mum had told him, “Blue is the colour of emotion... to soothe and heal... it’s also there to provide security and illumination”

Except, she said all that in a more child friendly way so he’d understand – basically - Blue is for you to make all your dreams come true.

Now he was grown-up he thought he could do without the reliance of a night-light but one present from Aunty Jane had been a rather nice lava lamp, which by sheer coincidence glowed blue with pale blue shapes as it warmed up. Simon had always been fascinated by these lamps ever since they had one in the living room when he was seven. It drove his mother mad and eventually disappeared without any reason. He never voiced how much he missed it but was very pleased to receive this new one as a gift. It would sit wonderfully next to his TV and video games console. He was amazed that his aunt had come up with such a fantastic gift.

Meanwhile, there was a downside to this and was another issue that declared he was growing up. Birthday presents included stuff from people who had no idea what he liked. Amongst the books, CDs, video games and such, his Aunt Jennifer had bought him some shorty pyjamas. They were pale blue shorts, a white top with the outline in pale blue of Micky Mouse. Although Simon didn’t voice his disappointment to her face, he thought they were a little childish. His aunt had said she remembered how much of a fan he was of Micky but he didn’t have the heart to say that was after their visit to Disneyworld when he was seven. Anyway, they sat in their cellophane wrapper in his ‘pyjama’ draw in his new dresser.

In fact, there had been some degree of satisfaction, now he had loads of space for his clothes, he was able to compartmentalise his stuff. He even decided that he’d keep everything nicely folded and not just shoved anywhere. His mother wondered just how long that resolution would last. However, clothes were hung up in the closet, the shelves were evenly stacked and his dresser drawers were a tribute to organisation... everything neatly put away. There were no clothes scattered around his new bedroom, even trainers and shoes were out of view.


It was a few months after his birthday and, as the nights began to get earlier, he eventually got round to using his new lava lamp for the first time putting it on early before he went to bed to get the flow moving. The new senior school had been difficult with the amount of homework he’d found excessive... everyone in his year was feeling the pressure. It felt like he was spending more and more time in his bedroom working on school projects; reading, copying, writing, calculating sums (show your workings), geography and history... everything had gone up several gears and he was finding the workload overwhelming. He’d hardly had time to play his video games and when opportunity arose often found himself falling asleep from exhaustion before finishing a level.

Mind you, he did like his bedroom. With everything tidied away he was quite surprised at just how much space he actually had. Yes he was definitely growing up. He thought it was a pretty cool area and a lot better than some of his mates, which were smelly, messy and full of junk. However, this Friday night he’d got through masses of homework, had managed a few levels and watched a part of a funny movie called Boss Baby.

He glanced over at the swirling lava lamp and as usual was intrigued at the way the globules of oil lifted and floated around the liquid. The dark blue ‘water’ set off with the glowing round pale blue blobs as they careered around the glass in various sizes. He sat mesmerised. After all that homework, which teachers seemed to pile on him for the weekend, he was glad of those gentle floating globules help him unwind.

It brought back memories of when he was younger and they had one next to the TV. The yellow swirls and bubbles had left him transfixed on many occasions. In fact, it often held more interest than whatever was on screen at the time. However, his mother seemed to get more and more irritated by it, she didn’t see it as relaxing at all, something about it really irked her. Anyway, one day it was there the next gone.

Now he had one of his own again was happy to be transfixed. It was a great present from Aunty Jane and made his room glow like it used to when he was a kid. Unlike his mother he did find it giving out a very relaxing vibe. The slow-motion way the waxy oily bubbles slid in a balletic way around the glass container had brought him down from the anxieties of the weekend homework he’d finally completed.

As he gazed intently he noticed there were occasional twinkles dancing a sort of accompaniment to those slick orbs. A quick sparkle in the up-light that would glow and diminish in a split second - it looked pretty wonderful. The more he looked the more certain he was he saw images in those lava-like shapes. For a few moments he remembered a TV show called Teletubbies he’d watched as a pre-schooler where the sun had a baby’s face and was always happy – that’s what some of those bubbled images reminded him of.

It was strange the way his mind wandered from one perceived kiddie likeness to the next. He wondered why the Baby Boss movie and Teletubbies had affected his thoughts so much; all the while being engrossed in those pretty amazing shapes as the floated and bounced off one and other. Shapes turned into faces and then returned to being just slowly circulating blobs.

His mind was briefly distracted as he looked to the opposite end of the dresser and saw the pile of books he’d been busily revising from or doing homework in. If only he could revisit those days when no one bothered with such stuff - when it was just a matter of fun and play and schoolwork was a long way off. The thought hung in the air as once again childhood pursuits and cartoons filled his head with happy memories and a wishful desire for their return.

Out the corner of his eye he saw several large sparkles in the lava lamp as the light caught whatever it was that twinkled in the liquid. It drew his attention and again those demanding books were forgotten as swirling shapes soothed his fretful mind from all those years of dreaded homework to come.

The words of his mother returned. “Blue is the colour of emotion... to soothe and heal”

It was getting late; actually it was only about 8.30 but he was feeling pretty whacked out from all the study he’d done and the slow flow of the lava had done its soothing duty. It was Friday night and he had the weekend to look forward to and, with all the school stuff done, hoped to enjoy the following couple of days with no worries.

He changed out of his jeans and t-shirt and put on a pair of tartan cotton boxers and fished out an old loose cotton t-shirt he found comfortable to sleep in. He went downstairs to say ‘goodnight’ to his parents. They were a little surprised to see him ready for bed so early on a Friday and even commented on that fact but thought no more about it. However, what did shock his parents was that he actually kissed them ‘goodnight’, something he’d only done rarely over the last couple of years. “I’m too old to be kissing you guys” he’d said and that part of his childhood disappeared along with his need for toys and teddy bears.

He got into bed and snuggled down under the cosy duvet. The lava lamp still maintained its reassuring radiance as the many silvery twinkles from the elements gave the impression of an enclosed galaxy, whilst the swirls of plasma induced a comforting and peaceful sleep.

With his body and mind completely stress-free his thoughts scattered as he slipped into deep unconsciousness. Swirls of fuzzy blue light flooded his mind as cute, lava-shaped images flowed into his dreams. Teletubbies mixed with thoughts of earlier years; of playing on swings, building sand castles, in fact innocent of having anything to do but enjoy himself.


He woke up and knew he was gently trickling pee into his boxers; it didn’t seem to concern him. He was conscious of the fact that his full morning bladder was now soaking the bed and squirmed in the soggy sheets aware of doing something but not sure if this was usual. Even the clamminess was something he thought of as normal, whilst the smell of pee was leaving its own signature as he lay there waiting for his mummy.

The urge to pee had felt natural. His mind and body were telling him it was OK and so he’d simply let go and let flow. For the briefest of seconds he wondered what he was doing but, the feeling that all was well and he shouldn’t worry took control of his thoughts.

“Oh sweetpea... have you had a little accident?” His mother arrived moments later all concerned.

The wet boy nodded as she pulled back his bedding... he needed his mummy to sort things out.


There was something different about mummy but he couldn’t work out what.

“Perhaps we were too quick to get him out of nappies.” His worried father voiced as he came in to see if he could help.

There was something different with daddy as well but again he couldn’t work out what... oh, except, why were they both in his bedroom and acting strange?

“Now then John, he’s been a very boy good lately so we had to give him the chance... and he’s been as good as gold for the last few days haven’t you? Yes, yes, yes you have.”

Helen beamed helping her son out of bed and then cajoled him out of his soaked boxers.

For the moment Simon was gobsmacked not knowing what was going on. Well, he knew he’d pissed the bed but didn’t know why his parents were reacting like they were. It felt like they were treating him like a baby or special needs or something. He was embarrassed and didn’t want to reveal his wetness, but that had been taken away from him. He didn’t want his mummy taking his wet boxers down; that had also been taken away.

“Mmmm perhaps I’ll get him some pull-ups to wear at night...” She said examining the wet evidence.

Simon shivered at the idea but his boxers were soaked so couldn’t say much in his defence.

“Or,” his daddy concluded, “we can simply put him back into nappies, seeing as how we’ve still got them packed away somewhere, and see how it goes.” He said as he stripped the soaked bedding. “Good job we left the mattress protector on that came with the new bed isn’t it? At least that’s one less thing to worry about.”

Simon shuddered, and under normal circumstances would have angrily voiced his objections... but not this time. Meanwhile, mummy had taken him into the bathroom to clean up.

For the past few moments Simon had only been partly aware of what was being said around him. Weirdly, wetting himself hadn’t seemed a problem at first, it was only now dawning on him what a disastrous thing to happen. A twelve year-old simply doesn’t wet the bed. Standing naked in the bathroom with his mother sponging him down suddenly became an embarrassing situation and he tried to shoo her out the room.

“Mummy, erm, mum I can manage.” He heard himself say in a strange and pitifully childish voice.

“Don’t be silly sweetheart, you haven’t to worry.” She said grabbing a towel and wrapping it around him holding his arms tightly to his sides as she dried him. “Plenty of boys your age have a few teething troubles after they’ve just learnt to use the potty.”

“This is madness, why is she treating me like a kid?” thought Simon. “I’m twelve not two... I’ve not wet myself for nearly ten years... well... until just now... but that was an accident.”

The problem was that it wasn’t an accident. He’d known he was letting his pee out as if it was the most natural thing in the world and did nothing to stop. In his head there was a dispute going on but in the end he simply acquiesced. However, he wasn’t going to admit that to his mummy, er, mum.

Why did everything feel strange?


Whenever he thought to assert himself a weird ‘shiver’ enveloped his senses so his body and mind were telling him something different. It overrode any other instruction and made him submit.

“Now do you need any help getting dressed?” His mother asked in a caring way.

“Mumm, er, mum I’m old enough to dress myself...” The thing was he wasn’t sure if he could because he was shaking and confused. What the hell was happening and why were his parents acting so eccentrically?

She was rummaging around in his dresser.

“Well remember we’re going into town today to get you some new clothes... so, do you think you’ll be OK without your training pants?” Her tone was one of helpful enquiry.

She held up his Spider-man briefs and a pair of thicker childish briefs he remembered wearing when he was three. How the hell did she still have them and what were they doing in his drawers now?

This was weird and wondered what had gotten into her asking these stupid questions and acting like he was a toddler. He had no answer so just shrugged the confusion away and set off back to his room.

The bed looked sad now the sheets and duvet had been removed. The waterproof sheet - ‘the mattress protector’ – looked as if it was accusing him of some dire deed. He walked over to the full length mirror still drying his naked body and stared wondering why he was feeling off-kilter. A naked twelve year-old boy stared back also wondering why it was feeling a little off-kilter. However, superimposed on that twelve year-old was a much smaller boy, a toddler... a blue-tinged toddler Simon recognised.


He closed his eyes, shook his head in disbelief and surreptitiously looked back. Only the twelve year-old was there this time and he sighed in relief. However, at that moment his mother arrived back in his bedroom carrying clean sheets and duvet cover.

“Aren’t you ready yet? Well, I suppose you’ve had a bit of a set-back so... let’s get you organised first.”

She scooped up the colourful padded training pants, bent down and held them open for him to step into.

“Mummmm.” He said a little muddled but still complied.

“I know sweetheart... you wanted to be out of these for good but... we don’t want you to have another accident when we’re out shopping now do we?”

Why would he have an accident and more perplexing, why was he stepping into those training pants he hadn’t needed since he was three? He’d thought about not doing so but, like as a child, did what his mummy and daddy told him. Why couldn’t he fight this, this... whatever it was?

She wriggled them up his thighs and snapped the thick cartoon fabric around his waist.

“And besides, they’re better than the nappy daddy would have you wear.” She smiled as if they were conspiring together.

OK, this was getting stupid. He was a twelve year-old so a nappy was never going to happen even if he did just ‘accidentally’ wet the bed. However, for some reason, now he was wearing them, the thicker training pants seemed a good idea as his mummy reached into another drawer and pulled out a pale blue jumper with Micky Mouse on the front.

Simon laughed to himself. He must be dreaming or something, perhaps he hadn’t woken up yet and even the wet bed was all part of some ridiculous hallucination. He’d not seen that jumper since he was a tot so it would hardly fit now...

She pulled it over his head and it fitted perfectly.

“Now, do you want the shorts that match... or the new corduroys... blue or green ones?” She held up both pairs.

“Er.” Simon recognised them from ages ago but didn’t get any time to consider which he wanted because he wasn’t going to wear kiddie shorts... or so he thought.

“I think, as we’re going into town the cords will look smarter.” Again Helen bent down and opened them up for her son to step into. They had an elasticated waist so just tugged them up which, like his training pants, snugly fitted his waist.

This was stupid, so it must be a dream. None of this stuff should be in his drawers never mind actually fit. He hadn’t worn anything like this since he was a two or three year-old.

“Do you need any help with your socks and shoes sweetie?”

Simon looked up and caught himself in the mirror – there was a fuzzy blue toddler wearing what he was wearing. Yet, when he looked down at himself, he saw a twelve year-old wearing a Micky Mouse jumper and blue corduroy shorts.

How come everything fit him so well? How come he was dressed as a toddler? How come...?

This hallucination was getting more and more absurd.

His mummy had sorted shoes and socks and waited for him to put them on.

A strange chill spread through his body immediately followed by a warming flush. With his mother just a few feet away he could feel his training pants begin to fill up. He stood up and she noticed that look on his face she’d seen so many times before.

“Ohhh sweetheart, are we a little late? Come here, now don’t cry, these things happen...”

Simon didn’t realise it but he was sobbing... possibly out of guilt and embarrassment. Almost immediately his bum-hole opened up and deposited a full load in the rear of his training pants. He could do nothing except cry as his mummy hugged and patted his now expanded padded seat.

Simon was beside himself, how could he, a twelve year-old crap his pants? He wondered if it was something he’d eaten but if so, when? Yet, as he was filling his pants he knew that he was doing so and there was no shame or anxiety there - well, to begin with. Again it just seemed so natural.

It was all so baffling.

What had happened to his parents? What were they involved in? Why were they treating him in such a way? How come...?

This was madness but he had no idea what was happening... or why but no sooner had these thoughts entered his head than that enigmatic comforting blue haze seeped into his consciousness soothing and healing.

His mummy looked uneasy, as if she’d made a decision she wasn’t really happy about.

“Perhaps daddy was right on this occasion so... let’s get you cleaned up and we’ll start again.”

~ be continued.











Part 2

“How old am I?” Simon asked as mummy led him back into the bathroom.

“Well sweetie... oh hold on a moment while I speak to daddy.”

‘Mummy’, ‘daddy’, why was she using kiddie terms, they hadn’t been that to him for three or four years. Mum and dad... but... mummy and daddy sounded right when she said it.

She was gone a couple of minute and heard them talking but couldn’t make out the words. When she came back she was all smiles and encouragement.

“What was that again sweetie?”

“How old am I?”

“Well, let’s think... erm... how many candles were on your last birthday cake?” She beamed a reassuring smile wanting him to work it out for himself.


Actually, at his twelfth birthday he hadn’t wanted twelve candles, he thought the idea of candles was a bit lame. In the end his mother had simply put two lit candles on his cake, a one and a two representing his age but without the embarrassment of having so many to blow out.

“Twelve?” His mother laughed astounded. “Is that a new number you’ve learned? Can you count up to twelve sweetie? I’d be very impressed. Go on give it a try.” She said hopefully.

Although she’d removed his shorts, he was still standing in his messy training pants and didn’t like the mass hanging in the back. In truth, at that moment he didn’t feel like a twelve year-old but remembered his cake and the candles.

“The cake had twelve on it, a one and a two.” He said trying to justify his reasoning.

Seeing as he wasn’t going to count for her she changed the subject back to the candles.

“What does a one and a two make?” Again she urged him to count.

“Twelve.” He thought was the obvious answer.

“No sweetie,” She laughed pleasantly at her boy’s failure to grasp the maths. However, she wanted to be encouraging so asked again. “One plus two equals what?”

Simon began to wonder what the catch was... he was twelve, he wasn’t a toddler... he could count well past twelve... and yet his mummy had asked him a question that he knew, if he could answer it correctly, would please her.

“Let’s try again. One plus two equals...?

“Three.” He proudly announced.

“Good boy, well done, that deserves a treat so when we get to town I think we should find you a new toy... what do you think?”

She said pulling down his stinky pants and urging him into the shower.

He wasn’t sure he was getting a toy for knowing the sum or getting his age correct... he was completely baffled by what was going on. Why on earth would they be treating him as a little kid, it just didn’t make sense... unless this was some game of which he wasn’t aware. However, a new toy sounded great.


Simon caught a glimpse of himself in the chrome panel that housed the glass door and couldn’t believe it reflected a hazy blue toddler being led in by his mummy. He did a double take. He looked down at himself and still saw a naked twelve year-old but then noticed to his surprise he was still holding his mother’s hand as she turned on the shower and set the controls for a warm spray.

In that brief reflected moment he thought he saw what his mum, er, mummy, no, mum saw.

She sprayed away the waste of the messy accident, then shampooed his hair and gently sponged him clean. The thing was all this attention seemed normal. His mummy looking after him and daddy being stern but practical... just like it was when...

She towelled him dry and pointed to the plastic blue potty sat next to the main toilet.

Where on Earth had that come from?

“Do you need to go again before we set off?”

He shook his head. In those moments his mummy was taking care of him he felt like a toddler again. He’d loved the care and attention she took but then began to feel guilty that at twel...erm... er?... twelve he was past all that mothering.

“OK sweetheart, let’s see what daddy has prepared.”

He entered his bedroom. The bed had been made and his old Disney duvet and sheets had replaced his wet plain dark blue bedding. The top of his dresser, which had held the TV, video games and school books were all gone. All that was left was a colourful padded mat he remembered from childhood at the end and a stack of white fabric nappies glowing pale blue next to the lava lamp.

“Should I lose the lamp?” Daddy asked mummy.

“No love, they send me doolally, but he likes a night-light and shapes. Also my sister Jane would never forgive us if we got rid of it... she told me she’d searched all over the place to get him the perfect gift she hoped he’d like... and he seems to love it”

Although Simon had only used it properly for the first time the night before he did love the way it worked and what’s more, it did make a great replacement for his baby night-light... without it being in the least bit babyish. He’d had it working for short bursts of time before but never to the point where it had warmed up enough to ‘do its thing’.

“Alright, that stays but, he’s not coming out of nappies until he can prove he’s a big boy once again... OK?”

His wife harrumphed but knew her husband was probably correct on this occasion as he’d been worried that they were pushing Simon too quickly to be out of nappies.

He aimed this last comment towards his boy who was gripped by this weird conversation.

“Look Champ, I know you’re getting to be a big boy but you’ve had a couple of little accidents so, to be on the safe side...”

His daddy pointed to the pile of nappies that now occupied the top of his dresser. In fact, the entire firm wooden top of the dresser looked set out for a baby, with bottles of lotion, tubes of anti-rash cream, talcum powder, nappies, pins and plastic pants. There, occupying the end of the dresser was the thick colourful, padded changing mat he’d had as a baby.

Where on Earth had all this stuff suddenly come from?

Simon was speechless: What the hell, he was twelve, he didn’t need a nappy it had just been accidental. Except, when he thought about it... it hadn’t... he’d known what he was doing... and a nappy was probably, no definitely, the correct thing to wear.

That was a weird thing to think, Simon thought, but there was another thought that made him think otherwise.

“Oh god, this is getting stupid.” There was anguish and acceptance in that internal cry.

The long mirror on the closet door showed him as a twelve year-old wearing nothing but a towel, yet he was being treated as a toddler in need of parental supervision. He sighed. He didn’t know what was going on but daddy was indicating that he should be on the changing pad.

At that moment he could quite easily see the reflection of a blue three year-old version of himself hold up his arms to mummy.

She lifted him up with incredible ease, removed the towel and reached for the Vaseline.

“Is the washing machine on John?” She enquired.

“Yessss.” Her husband replied exasperated.

“Thank you. I’ll get him ready and we’ll be down in ten minutes. Why don’t you get the car out of the garage?”

Knowing this was his dismissal John pushed a stack of nappies towards his wife as if indicating that’s what their boy should be wearing. She didn’t like this approach but realised that he’d been right and it would be churlish to argue.

She spent a bit of time slowly working in the gloopy jelly.

“This will keep my little baby’s skin all nice and soft and protected.” She smiled an encouraging smile before adding a shower of sweetly smelling baby powder.

“OK sweetheart, let’s get this on...”

She flapped out a thick terry nappy and saw her son’s eyes tear up.

“Ohhh don’t cry sweetpea, I know you’re a big boy but this...” she said pulling the soft fabric up between his legs “is just temporary until we’re sure you can manage going potty again.”

Simon was desperate to scream, his emotions were tying his mind in knots. He looked over to the lava lamp where the glittery bits sparkled even in daylight. The shapes still seemed to hold images of a younger version of him, which smiled in reassurance but he didn’t have an answer to what was going on. How could it be right and wrong at the same time and how come his mummy and daddy only saw him as a toddler?

“Mum, erm, mummy...”

“Yes sweetheart.”

“I’m twelve... I can’t...”

“Twelve,” his mother interrupted, “that is a lovely number.”

Then he heard his mother whisper as if to herself. “I’ll be glad when you are twelve.”


With the thick soft nappy pinned in place she shuffled a pair of see-thru plastic pants up his legs. She stood him up but again the tears started so mummy was quick to reassure him that no one would notice under his lovely new elasticated corduroy shorts, which were then pulled up and patted into place.  

Simon was at his wits end. The long mirror now showed a fuzzy blue toddler getting a t-shirt and jumper pulled over his head, and mummy pulling up socks and fastening the Velcro on his white trainers with flashing lights in the heel. He remembered them being his favourite... but that was years ago.

He looked down at himself. He was still twelve but wearing the same as what the tot in the mirror wore... and oddly it all fitted perfectly. He could feel the soft bulk hugging his groin because of the tight way his shorts reduced the size of it. He couldn’t explain it but at that moment he felt safe and secure, whilst the padding seemed the right thing to wear. There was a slight rustling as he moved but when mummy held out her hand he willingly took it.

“C’mon, daddy will be waiting and we’ve a lot of shopping to get done.”

Now he was holding mummy’s hand it felt right. He felt safe and the soft hug and crinkle of the protection wasn’t upsetting. In fact, it gave him confidence.

Just as he was leaving the bedroom he took another quick look back and caught his reflection – he was his normal self except dressed as a toddler.

The lava lamp sparkled and Simon saw that same image in one of the big globules of floating oil. It began to drip smaller blobs and in each of those was a younger version of himself.


Had Simon, or anyone read the instructions on the box the lamp came in they might have noticed, in amongst the various language translations, the last small detail in English:

Be Aware: This lamp has magical properties and therefore predisposed to exceptional activities.

Of course anyone reading that translation would have thought that the word magical had been wrongly translated and didn’t actually mean magical... they’d be mistaken.

Everything coalesced once the lamp had been turned on and the various elements had warmed up. Those eddying shapes, lightning sparkles and the healing blue light transformed into a device for bringing health, wealth and ‘transformation’ to the one who turned it on.

Unfortunately, had Simon’s youthful priorities been elsewhere, he might have been a millionaire or dating some top film starlet. Instead, he wasn’t to know the consequences of his unassuming wish to return to a time when there was no such thing as homework. His modest plea, together with those mischievous ingredients swirled together to give him what he desired.

The lava lamp’s mystical properties interpreted that desire to mean an earlier, happier, more fun-filled time.  The blue light examined its owner and ascertained that he’d been stress-free when a toddler. Having established that as the epicentre where his mental and emotional state was at their most fluid, the cosmic forces took control.

There was nothing he could have done to stop his emotional regression and the blue light enabled material possessions to transform to help that process. Thus his clothing similarly reverted back to the appropriate time in his childhood to answer those juvenile needs. However, his size was something those supernatural forces couldn’t change, well for the moment, so it was only perceptions that were influenced to begin with.

What made it all the more effective was the way the luminescence manipulated those around him. His parents were the first to be affected but they were dealing with past issues regarding their son, which added positively to the way it all worked. As it turned out, it was they who led in the restoration of their little boy. What could have taken over twenty-four hours to attain was accomplished in just a few hours thanks to them. The ‘little boy’ himself took slightly longer to convince but with his parents on-board, and totally committed to change, they really pushed in a way that couldn’t have been foreseen.

It wasn’t only perceptions that the pervasive blue light caused to alter - it was those influenced by the light who then reached out to others. The modified perspective was catching like a bad case of Asian flu, no one was completely immune from it but some were more resistant than others. However, for some, it was permanent and would affect them for ever.

That strange blue life-force was now an integral part of who the family were and would flow outwards as and when necessary to manipulate the reality of others.

Although physically Simon stayed the same (he maintained the body of a twelve year-old) the supernatural elements held in that blue light transformed him in other people’s eyes. To others who were subject to the stimuli of the blue luminance he would look and be dressed like a toddler.


As they neared the shopping centre Simon’s anxiety began to surface again. Whilst his parents seemed to treat him as a little nipper, he knew he was twelve (?) and worried there might be people he recognised also out shopping. The weirdest part was, he’d accepted that as a kid who wet his pants there was a need to wear a nappy, but as a twelve year-old wearing a bulky nappy and shorts that were tight and revealing, that shouldn’t be happening. His mind was in flux, the question kept being asked, and wasn’t sure what was real?

However, walking into the first store holding his mummy and daddy’s hands seemed so natural. In fact, there was a frisson of excitement as he hoped that the toy section would be the first port of call. He wasn’t aware but he was almost skipping along between his parents as they entered through those sliding doors.

The place had mirrors everywhere. He’d catch sight in one of a hazy blue toddler and in the next an almost teenage boy wearing a juvenile jumper and shorts. There was no doubt that some people were staring but he just wiggled in the comfortable bulkiness of his nappy and felt inexplicably protected. However, the thought of getting a new toy filled his head and he asked his mummy when they could go and find something. He was almost pulling them along, eventually breaking loose and gaining a few feet of freedom before his father managed to catch up.

“Whoa there buster... I think we might need to get you back in reins if you’re going to run off like that.”

Simon looked up and saw himself in another mirror, a grumpy toddler with a pet lip looking well chastised. In another it was a fading pre-teen looking grumpy with a pet lip... it was difficult to fathom what was going on but at that moment, with his daddy tightly holding his hand, he felt more like a naughty small child.

Then the thing he’d dreaded happening... happened. A school pal, David (Witty) Whittaker (not his best pal by any means), suddenly shouted his name across the store.

“Hey Bonners, what you...?” Stunned by the vision of his school mate in obviously well-padded shorts and a Micky Mouse jumper, words escaped him for a moment. He then noticed the plastic pants just slightly visible below the left leg cuff of his shorts. He smiled.

“Well Bonners, often wondered what made you tick... the outfit really suits you.” He grinned and turned to depart. “I can’t wait to see you at school on Monday... big school that is... not the nursey.”

His friend lived up to his nickname but this meeting confused Simon even more. It was then he noticed that all eyes were on him and another tingle flowed through his body ending up with the second (or was it the third?) warm flush of the day filling the front of his nappy.

There were two mirrors he could see and in both was a little kid with plastic pants showing down one leg hole. He reached, trying to touch the image and his shorts rode up a little more exposing the thick nappy captured under the vinyl cover.

He was confused.

At first he didn’t notice what the flush meant because he was deep in worry about ‘Witty’. If people saw him as a twelve year-old wearing kids clothes, how come his mummy and daddy only saw him as a toddler? What’s more... how could he see both but have no control over either?

He only pondered this question for a few seconds before mummy led him to the toy section and told him to find something he might like. His excitement took control as he rushed towards one of the more promising aisles. It was only his exaggerated waddle that alerted Helen that her son might have wet again. Just as he was about to settle next to another young boy who was looking at some Pokémon characters his mummy swept in and shoved her hand down the front of his shorts to make sure her suspicion was correct.

“Ohh darling, you’re wet through again and I haven’t brought the nappy bag with me. You’ll have to stay like that until we get home... perhaps there’s a little more capacity if needed... hmmm?”

Simon was shocked that his mummy had just checked and everyone in the shop seemed to be staring and hearing her apology. It was a spectacle for the shoppers to see a twelve year-old boy with his mummy’s hand down the front of his shorts and declaring her son wet. He didn’t miss the comments wondering why a boy his age should be wearing protection, as well as the giggling from various older kids who’d just noticed the plastic pants.

He started to tear up but daddy came over, pushing his way through the gathering throng, and told his wife and son not to worry as he’d packed the nappy bag in the car as a precaution. He’d go and get it then they could change him and continue their shopping.

Some of the crowd, the ones who daddy had touched as he pushed through, seemed to relax their critical expression and smile sympathetically at the little chap who’d just had an accident in his pants.

Meanwhile, relief at daddy’s forethought elicited a grateful smile from mummy and appreciative hugs for their sobbing child.


John arrived back with the large nappy bag that Simon hardly remembered. They aimed for the store’s restrooms and found a changing station which was already occupied and waited patiently for their turn. Mummy and daddy were sat on a couple of plastic chairs whilst mummy perched their wet son on her knee. To everyone else it looked strange, such a big kid sitting on his mummy’s lap, but to the Bonners this was how they looked after their anxious toddler.

Her hand was absentmindedly tapping and stroking the obvious bulge in his shorts as he sat trying hard not to fidget. He did find this affection from mummy quite comforting and settled down to await their turn.

Eventually the door opened and a young mother with a six month old baby came out and looked surprised at those next in line. However, she saw the plastic pants peaking down the leg of his shorts and the obvious bulge so decided that Simon must be a special needs teenager and smiled benignly.

Mum asked her hubby to wait as she would see to Simon but the room was larger than most so he went in with her to help. It was only as they went into the sparsely lit room (the main light only came on when the door was shut) that for the first time he saw the bright indigo glow around them both. He looked down at his bulging padded hips and noticed he was also shimmering in a blue tinge. He had no idea why.

Then the main light came on and everything seemed to go back to normal except, his daddy was spreading out the items from the bag, whilst mummy was pulling off his shorts and soaked defence system.

“Well, the shorts are still dry at least.” Mummy said thankfully to her husband who had wipes at the ready.

“I’ve been worrying for a while that we’ve been rushing him to be potty trained.” Daddy confessed. “I think from now on he’ll be a lot safer in a nappy don’t you?” He added nervously as he popped out three more wipes.

She pulled down the plastic pants and Simon let out an embarrassed sigh, he also had the knee-jerk reaction of trying to stop her doing so and grabbed at her hands to prevent any further revelation.

“Naughty.” She admonished and gently smacked his hand away.

“But, but mum... mmmmm.”

Daddy had shoved a dummy to try and stop him from fretting too much.

“I feel responsible. I feel I especially rushed him... I think he needs more time to develop, I realise I’ve put too much pressure on him... he needs to get back to being a child again.”

It appeared as if John wanted his baby boy back and was wracked with remorse over rushing him to grow up. Stunned, Simon burst into tears. He wasn’t sure if mummy agreed but, as she was halfway through changing a very wet nappy, and could do nothing to stop it, let her get on without any further delay. Remarkably he found the dummy did soothe him so on this daddy had also been correct.


With both parents working away on making their little boy all clean and dry the sudden realisation that this was going to be normal seeped deep into his adolescent body and he sucked on his dummy as his mind wandered.

Wetting his bed, filling the training pants and then soaking a nappy just proved he needed all the protection he could get. The thing was, although at times he thought he was nearly a teenager, this day hadn’t been quite that traumatic because, every time he considered that idea, a feeling of calm descended and all seemed as it should be. He didn’t know why but they were sensible precautions and nothing he should concern himself with. It just seemed to be what was expected of a toddler.

Another big question without an answer - what was it with all this blue stuff and separate reflections - none of it made the least bit of sense to him, so why did it to his parents?

There appeared to be some kind of duality going on that he couldn’t get a grip of. Then that concept would quickly fade and be replaced with thoughts about cartoons and TV programmes.

To Simon, at times, his body was that of a twelve year-old but it appeared to his mummy and daddy as that of a toddler and as such, when the situation dictated, would be treated in that manner.

The need to rebel, argue, complain, and runaway bubbled in some of Simon’s thoughts but were quickly subdued ending any thoughts of parental conflict. Just as he’d work himself up into saying or doing something those angry or argumentative emotions were replaced by a feeling of love and gratitude that his parents inspired. He had no overpowering thoughts about anything so excepted he was pleased to be out of a soaked nappy.

Once everything was sorted, they left the cubicle and headed away from the toy section to concentrate on new clothes for their nicely padded boy. It was obvious that mummy loved buying new outfits for her son and gushed over every little colourful item she picked up. They were all unbelievably infantile, no doubt precisely what a toddler would love; the latest Disney or TV character in vibrant prints and snazzy material.

It was bizarre to see some of the other customers and shop assistants reactions; at first they looked disbelieving at Simon and seemed unsure as to whether it was a joke or not. However, in just moments they were joining in with his mummy saying how nice such a thing was or how cute he’d look wearing it.  They weren’t to know that the spirit of the blue light had invaded their consciousness and they were visualising what it wanted them to see.


His mummy would hold clothing up against his body to see what it looked like and had him try the occasional item on. Standing in the changing rooms wearing nothing but a thick nappy as she helped him in and out of these colourful items hardly registered. Just occasionally Simon thought nothing would fit, yet it did (he had no idea how that worked) and by the end of the shopping session there were bags full of stuff he thought he’d grown well past having to wear... but now wasn’t so sure... it was all quite nice.

Mummy and daddy had bought a host of additional stuff to make his life so much better now they’d decided not to compete with other parents of kids their little boy’s age. They really thought they’d been bad parents and wanted to make amends... their baby boy was going to be given his childhood back.

Now whenever he caught sight of his reflection it was mainly of this cute waddling little kid, the twelve year-old rarely making an appearance. It was just completely nonsensical because to him his body was his proper age... yet there was no doubting everything fit a smaller, less mature body.

At one point he tried to object and indicate his genuine age but he really wasn’t sure what that was, however, a swift smack on the seat of his well-padded shorts from his daddy quickly brought him to book. John wasn’t going to put up with any silliness whilst they were out in public and that swat was just a reminder for him to be on his best behaviour. It was also accompanied with the threat if he didn’t stop creating that he’d have the dummy in for the rest of the visit.

Simon didn’t know whether if it was his three..?.... or his older self that didn’t want that to happen and promptly did as he was told. It was difficult to assert yourself whilst wearing a nappy you know you’ll need.

His mummy tried to placate the situation by suggesting that Simon was probably getting a bit tired and they should get him home for a nap sooner rather than later.

Simon was hungry, he’d had nothing for breakfast, and hoped they’d stop in the food court for lunch but his little outburst had got his parents thinking ‘nap’ rather than food and he was ushered back to the car.

He tried to pull away. A childish tantrum was brewing and he felt he wanted to scream and stamp his feet in protest but, one look from daddy and he remembered that earlier spank so thought better of it.

One final check by mummy down the back of his shorts to see if he was wet or not and then daddy drove them all home.

~ be continued











Part 3

Just like a toddler Simon whined that he was hungry and hadn’t got the promised toy. Although mummy was trying to placate her boy, he was very unhappy and grumbled the entire way back to the house.

Of course, the object of the trip had been to get him new clothes... and that side of things had been executed exceptionally well. However, mummy did worry that she hadn’t bought that special little something she’d promised but told him that they would get a special present next time. It didn’t pacify her little boy who was on the verge of a major tantrum but daddy slipped in his soother to silence him. Strangely enough, his eventual gentle sucking had the desired effect and Simon relaxed back into his seat and stopped his annoying childish twittering.

By the time they arrived home Simon was fast asleep in his car seat and daddy had to carry him from the car up to his bedroom. He awoke briefly and from between his dummy said that he didn’t need to sleep as he wasn’t tired. Daddy ignored him, pulled off his shorts and jumper, checked he wasn’t wet, and settled him under the covers for a nap.

“Daddy, I’m thirsty.”

“OK, I think mummy is getting you something to drink but in the meantime settle down and rest... it’s been a pretty eventful day.”


John had woken up that morning full of guilt and bewilderment over his twelv... no that was wrong... his two-year-old son Simon.

There’d been a strange bluish glow in the bedroom, which disappeared when he drew back the curtains.

However, even in the bright light of day he was wracked with a feeling of having not done justice by his young son and desperately needed to make amends.

The guilt was extraordinarily powerful – he’d been wrong and needed to put things right.

Even now, as he looked down at his little boy who he hoped would get some sleep after such a perplexing morning continued to feel ashamed about trying to get him out of nappies before he was ready.  He felt stupid that he’d regarded it important that Simon should be potty trained so quickly.

His determination had resulted in the poor boy having wet his nice new bed, he should have thought more about such consequences. There was no shame in a two-year-old still wearing a nappy and, had he thought of the child, instead of trying to impress others, perhaps none of this would have happened.

He shouldn’t and wouldn’t let his ambitions for his son get in the way of the boy’s own development. He’d pushed his baby too much and got it wrong. Now it was time to step back and let things return to a more even setting.

When he’d voiced his concerns about rushing their son to be potty trained to his wife that morning she wasn’t sure what he was on about. However, moments later the feeling of letting her little boy down engulfed her too and she shared her hubby’s distress. The urge to make amends became the motivation to let their sweet baby boy develop at his own speed. A toddler has enough pressure to deal with and didn’t need that one-upmanship attitude his parents had forced on him.

It was a game that all parents played trying to get their kid to be better and more advanced than their peers.... but it was grossly unfair on the child. Maybe Simon’s parents had seen the folly of such action just in time.

It seemed to them, when they’d entered their baby boy’s bedroom that morning and found him soaked it was time to re-evaluate what they’d been doing. Both judged the best way was to return things to as they were a few weeks ago... before they made him wear briefs instead of trainer pants.

A wave of exhilaration ran through both their bodies now they had come to such a conclusion and believed their little boy should be given as much help as possible to enjoy his childhood before those long schooldays started.

What both parents were unaware of was this was just an echo of what they’d been like when Simon was a baby.

Reality had been manipulated, time had retreated, mistakes could be amended then forgotten – because - Blue is a healing colour and can put everything to rights.


As daddy tucked him in and Simon got comfortable mummy arrived with a bottle. She’d made warm milk with added formula, which she’d bought, along with tons of other stuff, for her little cherub. Simon looked a little surprised as she pushed the teat towards but as soon as it touched his lips instinct kicked in and he was suckling on it straight away.

“Good boy. You enjoy that and try to have a nap... you’ve had a very busy morning sweetheart.” She whispered echoing her husband’s thoughts.

The afternoon was carrying on brightly as Simon sucked on his baba. Too brightly, his mummy decided, and pulled the curtains to darken the room. The faint cerulean glow from the lava lamp made the stack of white nappies radiate with an eye-catching violet luminosity. She smiled and patted the pile as if an old friend had come a-calling.

Yes, she thought, it had been correct to put him back as these nappies were super-soft and very absorbent... so couldn’t be better. Helen then ran her fingers over the array of vinyl pants glad she’d found some really adorable, soft and decorative designs just right for her sweet and gorgeous little boy.

She understood why her hubby had been so determined to get Simon back into nappies, they simply made him look so damned adorable - keeping him all snuggly-wuggly was now her aim.

She didn’t know it but everything she did was guided by the blue infusion of cosmic colour and ethereal elementals. Her choice of nappies, vinyl pants, food, toys... everything would be how things were. She was a caring wife and mother though nothing now was more important than the welfare of her sweet little baby.

The sound of her boy sucking gently on his baba was comforting to hear as she left him to sleep in his cosy protection. A final look around the room confirmed that the blue swirling light added a lovely ambiance to her baby’s room. The dancing oily shapes floating up and, dripping some of their slickness back was indeed fascinating, she wondered why she’d disliked these lights in the past... or had she?

As he drained the baba of all its milky goodness, so his mixed-up assertion he was a twelve year-old also drained into his rapidly flooding nappy. He didn’t know he was wetting and from now on never would... there’d be nothing important... like going to the toilet... that he needed to be bothered about.

His mummy and daddy stood at the bedroom door watching as their baby boy slipped into a deep sleep. Daddy suddenly had a thought and picked up a teddy bear and snuck it in beside his son, whilst mummy noted the bottle slip from his grasp and substituted a pale blue dummy.

She thought her boy looked so cute she took a photo on her phone and sent it off to her sisters with the caption: Nap time for our little soldier.

Twenty minutes later a reply from her younger sister Jennifer read: How cute. Whilst a later message from her older sister Jane simply said: What the hell are you doing to the poor boy – he’s twelve not two?


Helen was a bit disturbed by Jane’s reply. Surely she also found the photograph ‘cute’ because that’s why she sent it in the first place... so why the silly comment? Then she remembered that Simon had also said that he was twelve... so... perhaps it was a little game being played between him and his aunty? She relaxed a little but wondered when they had set up this joke.

Entering the bedroom her sweet little guy was still sleepy but she knew not to let him nap for too long otherwise she’d have trouble getting him off at night. She gently shook him awake and ran her hand under the elastic leg rim of his plastic pants. Yes, he was soaked but the thick nappy would still hold more so was in no rush to change him.

Simon was helped up and handed his shorts. He could feel he was a bit soggy but as his mummy hadn’t changed him knew it was OK to carry on. He slipped the shorts over his slippery cover and found a pair of shoes and socks. He was ready for play and could hear his friends frolicking outside.

Although the influence of the blue light was mainly within the house, it was transmittable by the people it had affected. So, when a babyish looking Simon suddenly appeared to play with his twelve year-old friends, there was a great deal of ridicule and name-calling.

He had no idea why.

However, by the process of osmosis his presence began to be perceived as that of a little boy, possibly two or three year old, by the other children out in the street. They didn’t want to play with someone that age but that intrusive, ephemeral blue contagion slipped into their brain and a mental realisation accepted that Simon was little more than a toddler wanting to play with other boys and girls.

The girls especially made a fuss of the sweet little kid in the revealing bulge and visible plastic pants. They patted and hugged, kissed and cuddled this joyous, sweet guy - a couple even volunteering to Helen they would be happy to babysit should their services be needed.

Meanwhile others, who hadn’t been touched by the blueness of the occasion, enjoyed the spectacle of twelve year-old Simon acting like a kid and wearing outrageous padding. Some wondered if it was a dare, others that he must be being punished by his parents, whilst still others were in hysterics loving the silliness of the situation.

However, before long most were screaming and charging around like toddlers as if nothing had changed. And this was how Jane discovered her nephew and neighbours when she arrived worried about what her sister and brother-in-law were doing to their twelve year-old son.


“Aunty, aunty... aunty...” An excited Simon waddled over at as much speed as his nappy would allow to greet Aunty Jane.

She was perplexed to see her happy twelve year old nephew wearing an obviously soaked nappy and with all the other kids simply to be unaware of it. She thought his childish shorts and cartoon top clashed wildly with the pre-teen image at his birthday party just a few months ago.

“Hello Simon,” she patted his bulging padded bottom, “is your mum or dad in?”

“Daddy’s at work but mummy’s home...” He tugged on her hand and guided her towards his house.

‘Daddy’, ‘Mummy’? What was going on she thought as they made their way up to the front door?

He burst through the door excitedly exclaiming, “Mummy, mummy... Aunty Jane’s here.”

“Hello Jane, I wasn’t expecting you, “she said wiping her hands on a towel and embracing her sister. “What brings you to...”

She looked at her excitable son and noticed his heavily sagging shorts.

“Oh dear sweetie... are you wet again?”

He smiled and shrugged as if it was nothing.

“Well let’s get my little soldier in to something a bit drier shall we?”

“THIS, this, this is what I’m here for.” Jane exclaimed annoyed and puzzled at the same time.

Helen looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

She said and began to herd her child up to his room to change.

“Why are you treating your son, your twelve year-old son, like a baby?”

Helen shook her head completely baffled.

“How would you treat a soaking wet toddler?”

Now it was Jane’s turn to look confused.

“But he’s not a toddler... he’s twel...”

“Look, we’ll talk about this later Jane,” Helen interrupted her sister. “Let me get my precious little fella into something a bit drier and then you can tell me about your concerns.”

She aimed her son forwards.

“Although, I have no idea what concerns you appear to be having.” She shot over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs.


Jane could see the nappy lodged heavily in the boy’s plastic pants, so there was no denying that he needed protection but... why? She followed them up to Simon’s room and was surprised to see it set out with all the trappings needed to keep a baby dry and comfortable. The large pile of pristine white fleecy nappies, a padded changing mat that she recognised from when Simon WAS a baby, onesies and soft t-shirts and jumpers... everything aimed for a two year-old. The only thing in the room that didn’t adhere to this description was the swirling lava lamp... the one she’d bought for him.

For a second she was pleased to see her gift receiving such prominence.

Helen lifted her son effortlessly onto the padded mat and started pulling down his cute but juvenile shorts. She smiled and made goo-goo noises as she would to a toddler and told him what a clever and brave boy he was as mummy slipped off his plastic pants and unpinned the sopping wet nappy.

Jane was flabbergasted. She’d just watched as her not very strong sister had easily swept her twelve year old, four foot eight inch, ninety pound son off the ground and onto his back with barely any effort. She was transfixed as Simon seemed unperturbed by what was happening to him and even giggled as his mother wiped him with slick wet-wipes and arched his back so she could slip another thick nappy under his bottom.

There was just as much fascination as she poured lotion and carefully rubbed it into the area, followed by a swift sprinkling of baby powder. She pulled the thick nappy up between his legs and Jane was astounded to see her nephew still giggling and happy at all that was taking place.

“There’s my precious baby,” his mummy cooed, “all clean and tidy and with a nice thick nappy to keep him safe.”

She patted his bottom and said he could go out to play but not stray out of the garden.

“Okayyyy mummy.”


Meanwhile, Jane had become a little transfixed by the lamp as the bubbles of oil floated about in wonderful symmetry.

She looked away and at her sister. “Why is this still on during the day?” She went to turn it off.

“No don’t do that... Simon loves your gift and sits for hours just watching the swirls... it makes him contented and helps him sleep.”

“Isn’t it just wasting electricity?”

“Don’t worry, it’s all fine. If we turned it off it takes a while to warm up and start doing what it’s doing...”

“Ohhh what was that?” Jane said somewhat startled.

“What do you mean?”

“That sort of... you know... the glittering bits... they seem very startling.”

“You should see it when it’s dark. The entire light looks amazing.”

“I thought you didn’t like all this type of thing... you said it drove you nuts”

“Did I? Well, I don’t mind now I think it is quite relaxing and baby loves it.”

“BABY, baby, you keep referring to Simon as a baby... what’s going on?” Jane couldn’t hide her exasperation.

As Helen ran her hand over the pile of nappies she tried to explain her and her husband’s thoughts regarding rushing Simon to be potty trained.

“Well he should be at his age.” Jane commented but was ignored by her younger sister.

“He wet his bed and we realised that our little boy needed more time and we’d been wrong to, you know, pressure him to use the potty.”

“But he’s way past that type of stuff surely?”

“You see, even you are putting pressure on him. We’re happy to keep him padded until he’s ready for that next step.”

Unsure of her argument, and the fact that Simon himself didn’t seem in the least bit perturbed by his new status, she had queries.

“Does he use... you know... his nappy?” She was curious now even though they may not be on exactly the same page.

“Yes of course... why wouldn’t he?”

Jane looked around the room and thought, apart from the bed, just how childish it appeared. Simon was twelve after all... erm... he was twel... oh... or was she thinking of someone else?

The glitter in the lamp sparkled and mixed with the shapeshifting oils as Jane looked on and wondered why she’d chosen that particular lamp as a gift. In retrospect it seemed a strange thing to get for a twe... erm... three... erm... two year old.

Her sister was still talking.

“ we don’t mind him taking time... we just don’t want our eagerness to cause him distress like it obviously had been doing AND it would appear he is just as happy to wear a nappy as he used to be.”

“But, he’s...” Jane faltered in her thoughts.

The light glittered and a huge globule of oil lifted up and filled the entire space in the glass container. For a brief second she saw herself and Simon, she was pushing his stroller along the seafront when they’d all been on holiday...

Helen was still wittering on. “We’ve bought these lovely soft, fleecy nappies and he loovvvveeesss them. I don’t blame him they’re so super soft and...” she picked up a pair of pink and white cartoon vinyl pants, “with these covering him at night he’s kept safe and leak-proof.” She giggled a bit. “To be honest it’s all so gratifying....”

Jane recognised the plastic pants from the image she’d been sent to her phone and a thought briefly surfaced that she knew there was something she had to say on the subject... but it had gone.

But now all she saw in her mind was her little nephew having his nappy changed, whilst her sister was still waxing lyrical about the stuff laid out on top of the dresser.

“You should see it at night these white nappies glow a beautiful shade of sapphire blue and the lamp throws wonderful shapes and colours all around the room. Since it was turned on I’ve never seen our sweet baby happier. He just loves it and watching him with his bottle as he drifts off to sleep is just...” she gulped under the emotion of it all.

It was true. Since they’d made the decision to have their baby back in nappies, her mothering instincts escalated over and above what’s called for, yet she relished this overpowering feeling of love for her little boy. He’d never looked cuter, with such a sweet loving nature and looked so adorable in his nappies and pretty plastic pants.

Jane looked across at her and was filled with annoyance. She knew there was something needing to be said but frustrated at not being able to bring it to mind. She looked out of the bedroom window to the garden below and watched as her sweet little nephew threw and then chased after a toy plane. When he jumped and bent to retrieve the object of his game those bulging shorts revealed the thick padding underneath.

Still she couldn’t recall what it was she needed to say but thought her nephew needed his shorts pulling up... she could do that.

“Anyhow Jane... do you want to stay for tea or do you have to get back?”

~ be continued



Part 4

Jane arrived home in a very unhappy state of mind. She’d decided not to stay for tea and left her sister in the knowledge that there were things she’d gone to do... or say... or... something, that never happened. She couldn’t put her finger on it but there was definitely something wrong. However, those anxious feeling had been alleviated by that lovely, relaxing lava lamp she’d bought in the market, on impulse, for Simon.  

Back home, and over a nice cup of Earl Grey, she began to re-think why her toddler nephew would like a lamp. It didn’t make any sense; a boy his age wouldn’t have thought such a thing a suitable present. He’d want Lego, or action figures or dinosaurs or some such toy but a lamp?

As she thought about it a memory of her pushing her little nephew in his stroller along the seafront entered her head. A shiver suddenly ran down her back as she recalled that this was precisely one memory that the swirling shapes in the lamp had brought back. She knew she had that photo somewhere and searched her albums to see if she could trace it.

Earl Grey forgotten she was on her third album before she found it with the handwritten caption:

Me and Simon - Scarborough, July....

The picture showed them both obviously loving the sunny summer’s day. It was pretty hot and judging by the ice cream smear around Simon’s face, he’d recently enjoyed one. He was strapped into the pushchair but his thick nappy was clearly visible as the legs of his shorts had bunched up revealing the well-padded plastic pants. It wasn’t bothering either him or her judging by those wide smiles.

But the date didn’t make sense. I mean, she’d just seen her little nephew as he is in the photograph but this was taken... she checked... ten years earlier.

She remembered it was her brother-in-law John who’d taken the photograph as it was Simon’s first trip to the coast and he’d been very excited to paddle in the sea and make sand castles. However, she also remembered that shortly after that, John had been annoyed that his son was still wearing nappies. Apparently, some other parents on the beach had smugly told him that their child had been out of nappies at eighteen months.

She then reflected on what her sister had just told her about returning Simon to nappies because they felt guilty about rushing him to be potty-trained. She swigged at her cold Earl Grey and grimaced – nothing worse than cold tea at the best of times. However, there was another realisation that came with that cold, scented gulp, Simon was not two anymore. And yet, she’d just spent a couple of hours in the company of her toddler nephew and parents who treated him as such when she knew, yes, he was twelve... she was positive, or was he?


As she sat at her kitchen table, scanning the photo albums and sipping a refreshed Earl Grey, she felt her confusion begin to lift. Her sister and brother-in-law were treating their only child like a toddler, even though he was twelve and at school, he was dressed and regarded as a small child. She almost grasped the thinking behind it but still found it an uncomfortable concept.

I mean, why would you treat a pre-teen like a toddler and make him wear thick nappies, plastic pants and such like even if he had wet the bed?

The more she thought about it the less sense it made.  Even stranger was the fact that Simon appeared to be happy with the arrangement, which, after his last birthday party seemed most unlikely.

Now was time to take stock. Jane understood something was going on but couldn’t understand what. The neighbourhood kids were playing with Simon as normal but they too were treating him as a tot... and again... gave the impression of normality. However, she did remember some of the youths not actually playing in Simon’s group were cracking jokes and shouting names at him. Perhaps... there was... erm...? No, she couldn’t quite get her thoughts straight but something was unquestionably wrong although the motive still evaded her.

As she turned the pages in her album she came across a photograph of Simon at around seven years old. It was night time and he was standing transfixed next to the yellow lava lamp that her sister used to have. He was bemused... the caption read.

Simon at home enchanted by those enigmatic blobs – December...

Again the date was just five years ago so he has to be twelve now. Yes, he was definitely twelve and, if she remembered correctly, it was this very image that had sent her to find a lava lamp as a present for his... twelfth birthday. Eureka.

So, what the hell was going on?


Simon felt a lot better now he was out of his soaked nappy and wanted to continue to play outside but his mother, who was just about to start preparing for teatime, told him to return to his room to play. Games he hadn’t played with for over ten years surrounded his bed as he skidded and screeched his Matchbox cars over obstacles, under chairs, around legs and into hidden caves made from the duvet he’d pulled off the bed. He started putting Lego together but that wasn’t as much fun. There were some crayons on the desk with a colouring book should he want them; although at the time he was having more fun with his selection of vehicles.

Simon’s room, no longer bearing the sophistication of a pre-teen, was piled with the trappings of an excitable little baby boy. The PlayStation and all its games, plus his selection of electronic and digital gear had transformed itself into more age appropriate entertainment. It was amazing just how many of his old playthings were suddenly available. Plastic animals, Playmobil figures, Tonka trucks, soft toys - it seemed like an old toy chest had been discovered and burst open just for such an occasion.

Meanwhile, the lava lamp flowed, swirled and shimmered bringing a hazy blue contentment to its owner as he crawled on his belly. Whilst manoeuvring items around his shorts slipped down, revealing pink and white soft vinyl pants tightly surrounding his heavy nappy but, like all toddlers, he carried on unconcerned. He was having fun and that’s all that mattered.

Beep-Beep, Vroom-Vroom


“It’s utter nonsense.” Jane was still desperately trying to find some explanation for the situation.

She questioned what she’d seen with her own eyes. Simon had looked like his normal twelve year old self when she first saw him... except the wearing of childish clothes...oh yes, and that thick padding. But, and this was what she couldn’t understand, the longer she was in his company, the more like a toddler he became. Not just in what her wore but in size, shape and temperament. Now that’s not only impossible, it defies any logic.

When she left he was simply a little two year old who’d just had to have his sodden nappy changed – and she knew for a fact that Simon had been potty trained since he was... ermmmm... two... was it?

She shook her head and wondered if the Earl Grey was now having an effect - why was she thinking about potty training?

Her grip on reality was usually so good but...

“Now think” she reprimanded herself with a slap to the face. What was different this time from the last time she visited?

Well, the attitude of her sister...

The strange neighbours...

Simon’s need for nappies...

His room changed to that of a toddler...

The lovely lava lamp... her thoughts faded. All that was in her head was the wonderful shapes and glittery twinkles...

She didn’t know how long she’d drifted off for but the tea was cold and evening had arrived. It was now dark in her kitchen and perhaps not that strangely her only thought was... she had to buy one of those lovely lamps.


Back home Simon’s mummy and daddy were fussing around getting him ready for bed. They’d given him a bath where he’d enjoyed the bubbles, played with new bath toys and was now all nicely warm and clean as daddy got the thick night time nappies ready for his little soldier.

Mummy had already dried, slathered on the protecting cream and powdered him. It was up to daddy to pin him tightly in, making sure the extra soaker pads hugged their little boy before sliding up his special fun vinyl pants with the lovely teddy bears all over them. Simon liked those a lot, especially as they were like the cuddly teddy he was hugging as tightly as the protection was hugging him.

Whilst daddy had made sure he was nicely sealed in for the night, mummy had retrieved his brand new jammies.

“Ohh look sweetheart... these are the ones Aunty Jenny got you for your birthday... aren’t they sweet?”

She un-wrapped them and felt the soft cotton.

“These feel nice and snuggly... let’s get you into them eehhh?”

She pulled the white soft cotton top over his head and noticed the blue Micky Mouse on the front.

“How lovely and your favourite colour... and Micky.” The delight could be heard in her voice.

She then pulled the pale blue shorts up and over the bulky nappy, they fit snugly. She smoothed the material out over the bulk beneath and smiled at how gorgeous her little boy looked with teddy keeping him company.

“Night-night sweetheart.” She whispered kissing his forehead.

“Night-night, sleep tight.” Daddy said as he took his turn to plant a kiss.  

Simon beamed from behind his soothing dummy. It had been a very busy day and he’d been yawning since just after tea. Now at 7pm he was tucked up all lovely and warm as he slid down under the covers in his lovely new, soft Micky Mouse jammies and closed his eyes.

“Oh John, he looks so cute.”

“Yes he does... he’s our sweet, innocent son and I don’t think I ever want him to grow up.”

Helen hugged her husband who was probably echoing the hopes of mummies and daddies all over the world.

“I was just thinking the same.”

As mummy and daddy stood a moment longer watching him settle, the iridescent blue, swirling shapes and glittery elements of the lamp received their hopeful appeal. Their optimistic wish was amalgamated with their son’s desire for a time without homework.

“I love this room... the blue... it’s so comforting and relaxing...”

“You’re right love,” John affectionately stroked his wife’s back thinking how wonderful life was and how grateful to come to his senses after his son’s wet bed. Everything was back as it should be.

The glittery sparkles twinkled into life as the sapphire shapes shifted behind the glass casting a wonderful, reassuring glow about the room.

“Our little boy will not have a single thing to worry about.” John mused whilst patting the mountain of nappies as they exited the room.

Once the door closed the stack of glowing white nappies began to radiate a deep indigo hue, the blue light blazed adding another vibrant dimension to the ambience. Those clever magical elements fused hopes and desires and did what they needed to do. Perception was one thing, now they worked on reality... so, by the morning, all would be complete.

After all... blue is not only the colour for emotion, comfort and relaxation... it’s also the colour for a new baby boy.





After you've finished reading, you might want to return to the DailyDiapers Story Index

© Copyright 1999 - 2021 VTL DailyDi Websites for - All Rights Reserved
"The Daily Diaper", "DailyDiapers" and "Daily Diapers" are trademarks of