ThePoeticSkunk said:
I remember being ‘caught' several times by my mom when I was around 6 or so trying to get into my sister's diapers. I've always been fascinated by them and I don't know why but I've come to terms with it a while back though. It can have a sexual component but that's only if I don't wear for a long time.
Similar to my own beginnings. I, too, was six years old when I started acting on my urges, and that meant borrowing my younger sister's diapers. That was in the early 1980's, and like many children of that time, we were diapered with cloth prefolds, pins, and pull-on plastic pants. In fact, most of my sister's diapering supplies had been mine only a couple of years earlier.
Anyway... So, for a very brief period, I was able to borrow her diapers, pin them on (my pin jobs were humorously poor to start with!), sometimes wet them, and then drop them in the diaper pail in her bedroom. Mom was none the wiser at first, although I can recall being caught exactly once: I'd worn and wet a diaper, but had been unable to return it. Instead, I'd hidden it under my bed. And, of course, that was the day Mom decided to go looking for something in my room. My memory's a bit foggy, but I don't remember getting in any real trouble over the incident. I just remember feeling very ashamed.
Handily, although sis was done with diapers not long after that incident, my parents kept all of our diapers and pins. Most of them ended up in a big box in the garage--which I quickly found, and which served as my diaper stash for more than a decade. Obviously, with no babies in the house, a urine-soaked diaper in the laundry would have set off all kinds of alarms, but as a few of the diapers remained in the house for use as cleaning rags, it was not unusual to find them in the laundry. Very slowly, I would cycle my own diapers through the laundry, one at a time, and collect them from the rag bin. I seldom wet them, but there was a period of time when I was wearing them to bed almost every night, and so they did eventually get a little stinky.
I also became quite handy with makeshifting those prefolds--taking a couple of diapers and a couple of extra pins, and fashioning a larger diaper from them. It worked well enough.
Shortly after turning twelve, my long-accumulated interest in disposable diapers boiled over, and I started hiking to the store with my allowance after school to buy Pampers, Huggies, and Luvs. Perhaps amazingly, although I was deep into this stuff from pretty much age six onward, I can't recall ever being confronted by my parents. And that's despite my bedroom smelling rather strongly of disposable diapers on several occasions! I've had a consistently good relationship with my parents and never felt in any way neglected, but they did tend to leave me alone as long as my grades were good and I was taking care of my body. In short, I've pretty much concluded that my parents knew about my diaper habit and made a conscious choice to ignore it, either believing it to be a phase, or trusting that I would manage it with due discretion and not have it turn into a social catastrophe.
