"I hope Lindy's okay," Mum said over breakfast. "Nobody sees her wearing... you know."
Lindy wasn't at the table today; she was having a sleepover at a friend's house. Mum had been insistent about telling her she had to take a pull-up in her bag, to guard against humiliating herself in front of friends. The night before I'd looked around her room a little, and hadn't been surprised to find one loose on top of the pack; my sister didn't want her friends to know she was wearing them, and she was confident there was no risk of another wet night. She did have half a pack of those SleepSafe pants – small for her, with a print of fairies – in her room, so she'd clearly been wearing them for the last three days, even after she told me that she didn't need them. I guessed that she was more concerned with me knowing that she needed them than the actual problem. I couldn't actually blame her after the way I'd acted last time.
"At least she isn't having nightmares again," I said, pausing with a spoonful of cereal halfway to my mouth. "I don't think so, anyway. She doesn't seem particularly worried."
"I know. But for that problem to come back. Last time it was certainly the upheaval in our lives. We all coped with it in different ways, but I thought she was over it now."
"Could be just an infection or something," I said, giving a little shrug. "I heard that can happen. And it was only once. Freak occurrence." I knew it had happened twice, but that was almost the same thing. And the first time, Mum had allowed Lindy to lie to me about it, so it was probably easier if I didn't figure it out. The infection theory was good enough anyway; and there was no sense thinking too deeply about it when I knew Lindy wouldn't be waking up wet again.
""I suppose so. I just don't like worrying about her. It's like I said a while ago, I feel like you're not quite my little girls anymore. You're your own people, and that's a great thing. But it still scares me to think that she could be under enough stress to cause that again without me knowing."
"If it clears up on its own, you'll know it wasn't stress." That seemed like a logical answer. Although dry nights didn't necessarily mean there was nothing worrying her. "But I remember what you said, about how it would be nice if we were young again. You'd like that, wouldn't you? I think I..." I hesitated, and took a deep breath. "I might not mind either. I know Lindy was getting mad, about how she's not a baby and she doesn't want to be treated like one. Gave me some of her plushies, because she's too old for toys. That got me thinking, maybe there's like... Maybe I should stop trying to be mature all the time, and let myself enjoy being a kid while I can."
"That's a very responsible attitude. And I see nothing wrong with it at all. You're a good girl, Sally. And if you want to sleep with your soft toys, I'm certainly not going to stop you."
"Thanks," I mumbled. I couldn't believe I'd come out and said so much. I'd only been meaning to hint at it, but as soon as I started the words tumbled out and I couldn't stop them. There were still so many other things I wanted to share that I didn't have the words for, or didn't understand them myself, but I knew she would probably listen. And I knew there was one more thing I should say, before the courage deserted me. "And if you... Like you said you'd love for us to be little kids again... If you want to treat me like a kid sometimes, when there's nobody else to see... If you want to talk down to me or pretend I'm like Lindy's age, or even younger... I don't mind that. Is that weird?"
Mum got up from the table, came around and hugged me. I wondered why, and then remembered I could let go of my worries. Let Mum take care of the thinking, and trust her to do the right thing. A minute passed, and then she released my head and spoke.
"Thank you, sweetie. You don't have to do that for me, but I know even saying that must have been hard. And I might like that, when the moment seems right. Having my little girl back again, just for a short time. I really think it would help me to worry less about work, and about all the things I can't control. Thank you. But... I'm not going to force you back into diapers. I know I said you both have to wear pull-ups, but now your sister's accepted them a little more I don't think there's any need for you to join her. That's not a part of me babying you."
"I umm..." I mumbled, not sure what I should say to that. It would be too weird to say I'd actually enjoyed that little frisson of humiliation; and who knew what Lindy would do if I mentioned that photo. "They're actually really comfortable. Like they never bunch up on anything if you move about too much, because the material's thicker. So if you don't mind, and now Lindy wants us to be in the same boat, it might be a good idea if I keep on..."
That was all I could say before the army of redness conquered my cheeks, and shut down my mouth completely. I hadn't said I actually liked them, and I hadn't said anything about wanting to be babied that much. But I'd still come out and told my mum that I thought I should keep wearing diapers. I was terrified she might think it was connected to what I'd said about babying me, and she'd think I was a freak.
"Of course. That's something I never thought about. And I suppose if Lindy starts arguing again, I can point at how good you've been. Change your mind any time the embarrassment starts to get to you. But I'm sure Lindy would be happy to have a sister who cares so much about showing solidarity."
I just nodded. Mum wasn't getting mad; I guess that had to be a good thing. But she still thought I was just doing this because I didn't want Lindy to feel alone in her embarrassment. That was a logical reason, I guessed. Nobody would voluntarily want to wear pull-ups like a little kid if they didn't need them. Nobody except me.
"Anyway!" her cheerful voice cut into my thoughts. "That was a lot more serious than I thought, and good little girls need to be heading to school soon. Do you need me to start shepherding you out of the door like you can't manage your own time?"
I gasped, blushed, and stammered. I hadn't realised just how long the conversation was taking. Then I shovelled the remains of my cereal into my mouth as fast as possible, chugged the rest of the milk from the bowl, and dashed back to my room to get ready. Mum reminded me to brush my teeth and put my hair up, and she was there waiting to hand me my school bag when I got back downstairs. I blushed each time she said something, reminding me of things that she already knew I could do myself. I didn't respond yet, I wasn't sure what words would be appropriate. Was this her way of making me feel little? It was a little embarrassing, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I guessed I should give it a good think later before I gave any kind of opinion.
"Wow, what's happened to you?" Harper gasped, halfway down our garden path. Nadine was just two steps behind her. We normally met up on the way to school, depending who was going fastest, but I guess that this day they'd met up on our street and started to wonder if they missed me.
"Nothing!" I gasped. "I just... breakfast took longer than usual, took me a minute to wake up or something."
"With a smile like that?" Nadine raised her eyebrow and smirked at me, turning around at the same time. She knew as well as I did that we would have to hurry if we didn't want to be late at this point. "Seriously, Sal, you need to work on your poker face. Did you get a boyfriend or something? Somebody keeping you up late?"
"That's not nice," Harper came to my defence momentarily. "Give the girl some privacy. But, you know, if there's something making you that happy, we want to know about it. If it's not too private, I mean."
"All the juicy details. Shared pain is lessened, shared joy increased. Like a wise sage once said."
"Isn't that from some 70s sitcom?"
"Whatever, it's still true. And I've never seen you with that kind of smile before, it just makes me curious."
Thankfully they got sidetracked into talking about the origin of that philosophical quote before anyone asked me again. I really didn't know how much I could share with them; but automatic comments on my smile suggested that it would be a lot easier than I'd thought to answer some of Mum's questions. Was this something I wanted more of?
Apparently the only answer was yes.