This choice: Approach mum just about that: worried something is wrong with her potty training • Go Back...Chapter #6Approach mum just about that: worried something... by: TD514   Cindy leaned against the bathroom wall, her mind at war with itself. Her interest in diapers had grown from mere passing fascination to full-blown obsession, and she didn't know what to do. She was a teenager, for crying out loud, a high school sophomore. She should be worrying about love and school and parties, and not...
She couldn't even bring herself to look at the toilet, running a comb through her hair in lieu of anything else. The mere thought of the... the potty sent a pang to her bladder as she turned the tap, splashing cold water on her face. What was wrong with her?
She pushed the door open, walking into the hallway, thinking. The pressure in her bladder was unmistakable. She'd been holding it in for almost two days now, the left side of her brain unable to convince the right to just let her use the damn bathroom. Cindy didn't even know what she was trying to accomplish. She'd had to go sooner or later, and whether it was in her pants or a tol-a potty didn't matter, did it?
She wasn't even looking ahead of herself when she stumbled into her mom, stumbling backward before her mom caught her.
"Cindy," her mom said, concerned. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she said, for lack of a better answer, eyes fixed on the ground. "I've just been distracted, I guess, and wasn't looking where I was going."
Her mother looked at her curiously. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked softly. Cindy had never been able to hide anything from her. She didn't need to. Her mom's penchant for being able to roll with just about everything usually meant she was more than capable of handling everything Cindy could throw her way with an understanding smile and a hug.
She thought about saying no, but what was one diaper fixation compared to all that? She nodded.
--
They sat on the couch, mugs of hot cocoa in their hands. It was her mom's standard 'we need to talk' setup. The cocoa was good and usually set her at ease, but she usually wasn't doing these with a full bladder. She left her mug on the coffee table.
"So," her mother began, sipping at her drink. "What's on your mind, sweetie? A Boy? A girl? Is a certain special someone on your mind? You know I won't judge."
"Mom!" Cindy protested, blushing, her indignation undercut by the smile on her face. "It's not a girl, or a boy, or anyone else."
"Oh, really?"
"Really," Cindy repeated, eyes turning downwards as she inched towards the real reason. Her voice was barely higher than a whisper. "It's... it's my potty training."
That got her mom's attention. She leaned over, arms reaching to pull Cindy into her embrace. "What about your potty training, honey? You were potty trained, you know, even if you had a little trouble getting there."
"It's... I'm worried about it, Mom." At her questioning glance, she continued. "I've been obsessing, really, about... about diapers," she admitted. "Every time I see a commercial or... reading something, I just, I just think that that should be me wearing one. I can't even use the toilet now because my brain thinks I should be doing it in a diaper."
"How long have you been thinking this, Cindy?" Her mother asked softly, their arm rubbing soothing circles on her back.
"Almost a couple of days," she murmured. "I-I've been holding it in for about that long..."
"Cindy!" Her mother admonished. "That's not healthy."
"I knooooow," Cindy whined. "I just can't use the toilet, Mom. I really can't! My brain just won't let me." She sighed. "I'm such a freak."
"No, you're not, sweetie." Her mother said firmly. "You're my smart, wonderful, beautiful daughter, and I won't have you talking down about yourself. But, you will be going potty young lady, and I don't care if I have to drive you to a supply store and put you in a diaper myself if that's what it takes."
Cindy nodded.
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