My mother rifled through absolutely EVERYTHING all the time because she knew I had a "mad scientist" personality. This meant there was ALWAYS SOMETHING hidden behind, underneath, up above, or down below somewhere in my room, or let's say property.
I craved knowledge, and loved to tinker around.
I was a good kid, but amazingly bored. My intrigue for anything led to many experiments, contraptions, and excursions. Eventually she found hidden diapers when I was a youngster.
So be it.
The repercussion: I never had respect from her ever since, I was "The DEVIANT"
. (she's dead now. I'm kinda thankful about it actually so her disrespecting thoughts ceased.)
But with her, this also led to my word not being taken as truth. I was a very honest person, so I was very hurt by her reactions later with me. The grounds for respect were blown to smithereens.. which really bothered me a damn huge amount.
A darn bunch of diapers, and decades later through my life I was always spoken down to, not listened to, disrespected, and not believed! It took time before she agreed I could fix her car!
But she did depend on me, and trusted my good heart when she fell ill.
Though the big deal was that my integrity was shattered and disregarded by her permanently.
So the diapers actually really screwed up my feelings in a weird way where even to this day if my integrity is questioned,
by anyone, I retaliate in a big way.
It's wild how childhood tissues can be a psychological ball and chain way down the road. I still love diapers, though.
So depending on the parent, think think think. (not that I didn't. I just never thought she'd find them)