✅ My Sister's Problem

63. Coming Clean

This chapter is dedicated to Ddude, my newest follower on Patreon. Thank you!

"Oh, come on!" Mum's voice reached through my lethargy. I could tell she was struggling to keep her temper. "Every year we do this trip, and I never thought I should start diapering you again."

"I'm sorry," I babbled, forcing my eyes open. I could already feel clammy jeggings sticking to my skin, and I could imagine how livid she would be even if she tried to appear supportive. I'd peed in the car, thanks to my own dumb urge to try and get revenge on my sister. There was nothing I could say to defend my actions now. "I didn't mean to... I'm sorry, I don't know what happen–"

I stopped babbling as my open eyes managed to get a message through to my brain. I was slumped sideways, held in place by my seatbelt, with a practical lake of pee at my feet. Mum was leaning in through the passenger door, leaning over Lindy. And now staring at me in disbelief. If I'd been able to wait a couple of seconds before opening my mouth, I might have been able to manage her expectations a little better.

"Both of you?" she snapped. "Are you serious?"

"Sorry, Mum," I mumbled. "I'll get some–"

"No, I can't do this. Putting towels down on one seat, I might be able to clean it later, that's not something to interrupt the journey for. Two? The car wash by the entrance has that big sign that promises your interior spotless in an hour. For once, that might not be a total rip-off." I knew the sign she meant.

We were at the Wellingborough interchange; a tiny plot of industrial land that had been reclaimed to provide toilets and cheap fast food to motorists mid-journey in as little space as possible. One of the perennial comments for this trip was that we would have had lunch here if we'd had the self control to resist the lure of the Gresham Welcome Wagon's delicious all day breakfasts. Another was that a car wash service advertised at every entrance from the intersecting highways must get no customers ever. They offered a wash and wax of any car for about double the price of anywhere else; and also guaranteed that they could get your interior spotless in under an hour for the low, low price of 249·99. We'd wondered how anybody could spend so much getting their car cleaned for as long as I could remember, and it was one of our running jokes. But in the circumstances it didn't seem like such a big deal.

"Out." Mum said one word, and I opened the door and climbed out of the car. Lindy was still freaking out a little, but Mum managed to calm her down enough to get us moving. We took a bag each, and Mum asked me to pull her wheelie suitcase which had been on the seat beside me. We walked alongside the car until we found the site of the famously overpriced car wash. We couldn't quite hear the conversation as Mum spoke to the guy who was taking money. He had a card reader on his belt, and Mum quickly scanned hers, before rejoining us. Then we were heading back across to the tiny Burger Lord wedged in between two parking areas.

I glanced down and noticed that Lindy was leaving damp footprints on the asphalt. They faded quickly, just a couple of steps behind her as the sun beat down, but I knew how uncomfortable she must be now. I felt like a heel for making this happen, and I knew I should never have let my anger control me. Not just because it probably wouldn't teach my sister anything; but because of the hassle it would cause for Mum. I hadn't even thought about having to clean the car.

"I'm sorry Mum," I said quietly, and took her hand.

"It's okay, baby. You're only little, it's not your fault. But I'm putting you both in diapers for the rest of the trip. Is that okay?"

I squeezed her hand, because I didn't know how else to respond. I'd caused problems for my family, and for myself, but she was still trying to make me feel better. This was exactly how Lindy was supposed to feel when I got punished; the emotions that would teach her not to do it again. If it made her felt like this, I was sure that she would have learned by now.