ElPulpo said:
Have you ever considered coming out to her? I obviously don't know Mrs. Maxx, so I can't tell how she would handle it, but from personal expericence I can tell that there are women who will react sympathetically. Although of course I'm aware that the opposite is also possible, so I can understand if you are reluctant.
That's always a possibility, and it may come to that if we both live long enough for her to retire (only a couple years, but you never know). Or who knows, maybe I'll develop an actual need for diapers.
At present, it appears to me there's more downside than upside. I'm strictly DL, so I don't have any fantasies about being diapered or having her participate. Telling her would involve a one-sided tirade, most of it probably off topic.
Don't get me wrong, I love her and don't think she's an awful person, but age and menopause have not been kind to some of her mental faculties. For one thing, her audio inhibit is broken. She talks constantly. Talking to herself, talking to the bird, reading her texts and emails out loud, doing play by play to whatever I'm doing, whatever she's doing, whatever is on TV... Then there's the telephone. I don't think it would result in her leaving or throwing me out, but I'd probably need to do a purge, and everyone in the family and everyone she knows would know about it within 24 hours.
Any "conversation" with with her goes 3 words at a time if I'm lucky. Last weekend we were at Junior's and he asked for some advice on a DIY project while she was in the room. She was talking over us both telling us how to do something she knew nothing about to the point neither of us could get a word in. We gave up after a few minutes and continued the discussion later via text. It's not just diapers. Right now I need to get a new furnace. Interviewing contractors with her around would be impossible, so that, and projects like it compete for any potential diaper time.
A diaper "coming out" would go something like this:
Maxx: I need to
Mrs. Maxx: blah blah, blah blah blah
Maxx: tell you something
Mrs. Maxx: blah blah, blah blah blah
Maxx: Please stop talking
Mrs. Maxx: blah blah, blah blah blah
Maxx: Please stop talking
Mrs. Maxx: blah blah, blah blah blah
Maxx: Please stop talking
Mrs. Maxx: You can't talk to me like that, I'm not your sister. blah blah, blah blah blah (Yes, my sister is the same way. Fortunately 1000 miles away. Every day I consider tossing my phone in the creek)
Maxx: Never mind.
Mrs Maxx, storming off angrily: You need to communicate.
Maxx: <sigh>
I'll come out when and if I have to, but forcing my way through that isn't something I look forward to.
I can live with it as long as I get to scratch my diaper itch a few times a month.
