handsomestallion
Est. Contributor
- Messages
- 220
- Role
- Diaper Lover
As a child, I had a small stuffed bunny named Mr. Bunny. He was given to me almost as soon as I was born. There's an old picture in my baby book of me in my crib, probably about four or five months old, wearing just a small pinkish-red shirt and a disposable diaper and clutching Mr. Bunny. In the picture, I appear to be a bit scared of the camera that whichever parent was taking the picture with, and I guess I instinctively held on to Mr. Bunny to feel safe. There's at least one other photo of me with Mr. Bunny taken when I was just about two years old.
Before I turned three years old - I was probably two and three-quarters - the rattle within Mr. Bunny stopped producing sound. I had loved that sound a lot, and I was extremely upset because I thought he was "broken". It was about that point that I came up with a sort of imaginary friend-type persona to apply to Mr. Bunny. That was the moment that Mr. Bunny evolved from being a simple stuffed animal with a rattle inside of it to an actual imaginary creature who I could talk to and call on to make me feel better when I was sad or scared.
I continued to sleep with Mr. Bunny pretty much every night until I was well into elementary school. To others, he was just an inanimate object, but to me Mr. Bunny was someone who cared about and comforted me, even if he was a mere figment of my imagination.
Eventually, probably when I was almost out of second grade - so when I was about eight years old - I parted ways with Mr. Bunny and he became a simple object again, sitting in my bedroom untouched for over a decade. I didn't think about him much during that period, but occasionally my mom would ask me if I remembered Mr. Bunny, and I told her yes, but I don't think I actually meant it.
Then about a year and a half ago, my mom was cleaning my room with me, and we were taking some things off my desk to get rid of. She picked up Mr. Bunny, said "We're definitely not getting rid of Mr. Bunny", and set him back down. At that moment, I realized how fortunate I was that Mr. Bunny was still sitting in my room after all those years. When my mom basically told me I had to keep Mr. Bunny, it meant she knew how special he had been to me in my younger years. And then all of the good memories I had with him over the years starting returning to me.
Finally, this week I decided that I would "reunite" with Mr. Bunny one night. My diapers were beginning to be not enough to help me forget about the stress and anxiety of adult life and the modern world. So I was going to revive Mr. Bunny the imaginary friend and reconnect him with Mr. Bunny the object.
Last night after getting home from work, I double-diapered myself and then grabbed Mr. Bunny off my desk. "Mr. Bunny! I missed you so much! I'm all grown up now," I told him. And in my head, I could hear Mr. Bunny tell me that he missed me too and he was proud of the young man I had become. I also imagined him saying that I didn't have to be a baby per se to wear diapers.
So I took Mr. Bunny to bed with me and he felt just the way I remembered him feeling - soft and comforting. I said "Just like old times" and he agreed with me because I like to think of Mr. Bunny as having a perpetual memory that has allowed him to continually remember all of those moments we had together back in those simpler days when I was little. It was the best sleep I had in a while, even though I woke up twice in the middle of the night and wet each of my diapers. Mr. Bunny of course saw me do that time and time again as a baby, but truth be told I had a couple of adult beverages before diapering myself knowing they would make me wet more, and I told Mr. Bunny that, and I heard him tell me that it was okay that I drank that because I'm allowed to do that now, and that diapers are good for nights like that.
I woke up in the morning with a hangover so I kept Mr. Bunny with me until I felt better. After changing out of my wet diapers I set Mr. Bunny back on my desk and told him goodbye for now. And then it was back to real life. Except now, I feel like I can get through as much of real life as possible now that I know that my old comfort object is just the way I remember him. Mr. Bunny helped me through a lot and he can help me through the first phase of adulthood too.
I'd like to wrap this up by saying don't be afraid to use your imagination and personify your stuffed animal, and don't be afraid to use it as an adult baby or little when you think you need it. So now I'm curious if anyone else has a stuffed animal they've had since birth, and if you've ever had a "reunion" with an old stuffed animal like that. And also, let me know what you think about my personification of and "reunion" with "Mr. Bunny".
Before I turned three years old - I was probably two and three-quarters - the rattle within Mr. Bunny stopped producing sound. I had loved that sound a lot, and I was extremely upset because I thought he was "broken". It was about that point that I came up with a sort of imaginary friend-type persona to apply to Mr. Bunny. That was the moment that Mr. Bunny evolved from being a simple stuffed animal with a rattle inside of it to an actual imaginary creature who I could talk to and call on to make me feel better when I was sad or scared.
I continued to sleep with Mr. Bunny pretty much every night until I was well into elementary school. To others, he was just an inanimate object, but to me Mr. Bunny was someone who cared about and comforted me, even if he was a mere figment of my imagination.
Eventually, probably when I was almost out of second grade - so when I was about eight years old - I parted ways with Mr. Bunny and he became a simple object again, sitting in my bedroom untouched for over a decade. I didn't think about him much during that period, but occasionally my mom would ask me if I remembered Mr. Bunny, and I told her yes, but I don't think I actually meant it.
Then about a year and a half ago, my mom was cleaning my room with me, and we were taking some things off my desk to get rid of. She picked up Mr. Bunny, said "We're definitely not getting rid of Mr. Bunny", and set him back down. At that moment, I realized how fortunate I was that Mr. Bunny was still sitting in my room after all those years. When my mom basically told me I had to keep Mr. Bunny, it meant she knew how special he had been to me in my younger years. And then all of the good memories I had with him over the years starting returning to me.
Finally, this week I decided that I would "reunite" with Mr. Bunny one night. My diapers were beginning to be not enough to help me forget about the stress and anxiety of adult life and the modern world. So I was going to revive Mr. Bunny the imaginary friend and reconnect him with Mr. Bunny the object.
Last night after getting home from work, I double-diapered myself and then grabbed Mr. Bunny off my desk. "Mr. Bunny! I missed you so much! I'm all grown up now," I told him. And in my head, I could hear Mr. Bunny tell me that he missed me too and he was proud of the young man I had become. I also imagined him saying that I didn't have to be a baby per se to wear diapers.
So I took Mr. Bunny to bed with me and he felt just the way I remembered him feeling - soft and comforting. I said "Just like old times" and he agreed with me because I like to think of Mr. Bunny as having a perpetual memory that has allowed him to continually remember all of those moments we had together back in those simpler days when I was little. It was the best sleep I had in a while, even though I woke up twice in the middle of the night and wet each of my diapers. Mr. Bunny of course saw me do that time and time again as a baby, but truth be told I had a couple of adult beverages before diapering myself knowing they would make me wet more, and I told Mr. Bunny that, and I heard him tell me that it was okay that I drank that because I'm allowed to do that now, and that diapers are good for nights like that.
I woke up in the morning with a hangover so I kept Mr. Bunny with me until I felt better. After changing out of my wet diapers I set Mr. Bunny back on my desk and told him goodbye for now. And then it was back to real life. Except now, I feel like I can get through as much of real life as possible now that I know that my old comfort object is just the way I remember him. Mr. Bunny helped me through a lot and he can help me through the first phase of adulthood too.
I'd like to wrap this up by saying don't be afraid to use your imagination and personify your stuffed animal, and don't be afraid to use it as an adult baby or little when you think you need it. So now I'm curious if anyone else has a stuffed animal they've had since birth, and if you've ever had a "reunion" with an old stuffed animal like that. And also, let me know what you think about my personification of and "reunion" with "Mr. Bunny".
