I Don’t Want To Be Big

Chapter 1

"Did you see the news about the outbreak in the earthquake zone
Dad?"

Hank's daughter was on the phone. It was a fairly rare occurrence
and when she did call, she never wasted time on salutations or
small talk, often starting out like they where in the middle of a
conversation.

"Nope – none of our TV stations picked up on that one", Hank
replied. Nor had he expected them to – it was Ashes Test Cricket
week after all, so something as insignificant as a cholera
epidemic added to the already abject misery of some villagers in
northern Pakistan was unlikely to get a mention.

"But I did get a news-flash from MSF this morning on the e-mail,"
he added. "I've sent off a sum." Hank was wealthy and could
afford to be generous.

"Oh goodie," his daughter said. "You'll be paying my salary!"

Hank was not surprised. Camilla had studied medicine not to
become rich but to make a difference and this was not the first
time she had been posted by Médecins Sans Frontières amongst the
neediest of the world. She was an expert on cholera management
and her early involvement was unsurprising.

"Will Cathy be staying with Kamal then?" Hank asked. His daughter
and her husband had been separated for several years, but they
had a very civil relationship for the sake of their daughter.
Cathy was born with serious health problems and it was probably
only because both her parents were doctors, and very good doctors
at that, that she was now completely healthy – if still very
small for her 8 years. But the process had taken its toll on her
parents’ relationship and they had separated, but worked in the
same city (at different hospitals) and could thus share in their
daughter’s upbringing.

"No, that's the problem Dad," Camilla said. "Kamal's not
available. He went home to visit his folks for New Year and I
can't reach him. I tried to call his sister to get in touch, but
I obviously got nowhere with her."

Hank sighed. Kamal's sister had always hated Camilla with a
vengeance. She never wanted her brother to marry a (nominally)
Christian, thoroughly western, highly educated and liberated
woman. She was close to the cousin who believed she should have
had ‘first dips’ at Kamal and had actively been sabotaging the
fragile marriage, urging her brother do divorce Camilla and
relocate to Pakistan. Hank knew his son-in-law well enough to
know that was not going to happen. Nor would Camilla take up with
anyone else, but he despaired at the two of them not patching up
their differences. It was mainly pride that kept them apart; they
could be so stubborn.

“And?” Hank teased. He knew what was coming, but he wasn’t
letting his daughter off the hook that easily.

“Dad, could she stay with you?” Camilla was almost pleading.
“Bringing her with me is not an option.”

“Of course not,” Hank agreed – shuddering at the thought of
bringing a small child to a cholera-ravaged earthquake zone. 
“She is more than welcome, you know that. How do we work this?”
With Camilla in the UK and Hank in Australia, the logistics were
kind of daunting.

“Eh, we’re booked on a flight to Sydney via Singapore tonight,”
Camilla admitted. “If you can pick her up in Kingsford Smith then
I can get a flight back to Karachi 4 hours later.”

“Short and sweet,” Hank said with a laugh. He should have known
his daughter well enough to know it was all planned. “I’d better
book domestic flights right away. How is Cathy, by the way?
Anything I need to know about?”

“Not really,” Camilla said evasively. “We’ve been having a bit of
toilet troubles recently, but I guess it is all about attention
seeking.”

“’Toilet troubles’?” Hank repeated.

“Yes, well, you know, being wet at night again,” Camilla said,
sounding exasperated.

“Not a problem,” Hank said. “I know a thing or two about wet
beds.”

Camilla didn’t comment. She had conveniently repressed the fact
that she was in night diapers, or nappies as they are called in
Australia, until after her tenth birthday. And Hank didn’t press
the point. He had solemnly promised his daughter many years ago
never to tell anyone and he was a man to keep his promises.

Chapter 2

“Granddad!”

The small girl’s thrill cry of delight made everyone in the busy
airport turn to look as she launched herself at the tall
grey-haired man just outside the restricted arrival zone. She was
very pretty with dark brown hair and eyes. She looked to be about
5 years old and the man easily caught her and swirled her around.

“Hi Pumpkin,” he gushed. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I am going to stay with you while Mummy helps the sick people,”
she said seriously, clinging to Hank like lichen.

“That’s right sweetheart,” Camilla said. She had now caught up
with her daughter, pushing a trolley with a large amount of
luggage. “Granddad will look after you.” She embraced her father
too. “Thanks for helping out.”

Hank smiled. A widower and semi-retiree, he certainly had the
time. He saw his only child and grandchild much too rarely, so he
was happy with this opportunity. He occasionally did consultancy
work, but not much in the summer – and most of it he could do
from home. “Any time, for however long,” he said with conviction.

“When will you come and get me again?” Cathy asked her mother

“I don’t really know,” Camilla admitted. “It depends on how long
it takes to stop the disease.”

“Will I have to go to school while I’m here?” Cathy demanded.

“Hardly,” her grandfather laughed. “It’s summer holidays here you
know. School’s out for many weeks.”

“Silly, it is Christmas Holidays,” Cathy laughed.

“Sure is,” Hank replied. “But down here we have Christmas in the
summer.”

They had a meal together in the airport before Camilla had to
check in again for her flight back to Karachi and Hank and Cathy
transferred to the domestic terminal. Hank noticed that Camilla
constantly urged Cathy to go to the bathroom – something that
obviously pained the girl. Even as they hugged their farewell
hugs, Cathy was urged to remember a toilet stop before the
flight.

“She does go on a bit about it, doesn’t she?” Hank said
conspiratorially when they walked towards the transfer train.

Cathy looked up at him shyly. “I guess…” she faltered. She’d had
a small accident on the interminable flight from London to
Singapore so perhaps her mother had a point.

The flight to Canberra was on a small turbo-prop with no direct
access from the terminal, so as they were boarding they went
outside for the first time and the heat of the Australian high
summer hit Cathy like a brick wall. “It is summer,” she
exclaimed. “I thought you were only teasing.”

Hank laughed and explained all about different seasons on
different hemispheres. During the flight he explained a lot about
Australia, including its unique and not always harmless wildlife.
The noise in the small aircraft, and the excitement of it all,
kept Cathy awake, but once they had landed in Canberra, found
Cathy’s bags and Hank’s car, Cathy was visibly flagging. It was
only mid-morning, but her internal clock said late evening and
before they were even out of the parking house she was fast
asleep.

She woke up long enough when they arrived at Hank’s house on the
other side of the Australian Capital to take in the strange
sounds and smells outdoors and to appreciate the pleasant room
that was to be hers for the next while. “It used to be your mum’s
room when she was a girl,” Hank said.

“Uh huh,” Cathy said. Hank stripped her down to her underwear,
tucked her in and tip-toed out of the room. Cathy’s last
conscious thought was how nice the bedding was – very pink and
very girlish and pleasant smelling. There was a crinkling noise
when she moved, but before she could work out why she was out of
it.

Hank returned a little later and unpacked Cathy’s suitcases,
transferring her clothes to cupboards and drawers. It was all so
small – and much too warm for the season. ‘Miss perfect organizer
must have forgotten about Australian summers’, Hank chuckled to
himself. He would have to do something about Cathy’s wardrobe
quickly.

Chapter 3

Hank didn’t want Cathy to swap day and night, so he intended to
let her sleep until mid-afternoon, tire her out with some
activity and hope she could then sleep a normal night’s sleep.
Kids usually get over jet-lag easier than adults anyway, so he
wasn’t concerned. He was working on a consultancy report in his
office and kept an eye on the clock, deciding it was nearly time
to wake up Cathy when a pitiful cry was heard from her room. Hank
rushed in and found her sitting up in bed crying inconsolably.

“What’s the matter Pumpkin?” he asked. “Did you have a bad
dream?”

“No,” she wailed. “I, I, I wet the bed.” Indeed she had. The
bedding was drenched.

“Is that all?” he asked. “I thought something had happened to
you!”

He picked her up, carried her to the bathroom and started running
a bath. “Bubbles?” he asked and held a bottle of strawberry
scented bubble soap to her nose.”

“Yes please,” she whispered shyly.

He added the soap, frothed it up to a generous layer of foam,
stripped off her wet underwear and plunked her in the bath. She
sighed with pleasure.

“Nice, isn’t it?” he said with a smile. “Can you promise me not
to fall a sleep” he asked.

She nodded and he left her alone for a while.

When he returned a little later, he brought a large fluffy towel
and the lightest of her clothes. He lifted her out of the bath,
rubbed her dry and got her dressed. The accident wasn’t
mentioned. Cathy was confused. If it had happened at home her
mother would have been going on and on about it, but Granddad
didn’t seem to care. “Want to go and see some of the local
wildlife?” he asked. Cathy nodded shyly, took the proffered hand
gratefully and walked out in the scorching hot afternoon.

They walked to a local nature area that separated Hank’s suburb
from the next. There was a small stream running through it and a
group of small kangaroos were grazing the lush grass. Flocks of
colorful Eastern Rosellas were foraging the shrubs and trees.
Grandfather and granddaughter sat down companionably on a log,
drank water Hank had brought and studied the kangaroos – who on
deciding that Hank and Cathy were harmless had returned to
eating. Growing up in a large UK city, this was the closest Cathy
had ever been to wild animals – or indeed any animals apart from
visits to the zoo. The heady scents of flowering trees and the
loud noise of insects added to the mystique. Cathy was enchanted,
but she could also feel her bladder pressing and reluctantly
asked Hank if they could go home again. She just made it to the
bathroom.

Hank had found some of Camilla’s old toys and urged Cathy to play
with them while he cooked an early dinner. Cathy readily agreed –
she was especially attracted to a near life-size baby doll. It
could be “fed” water from bottles and would “wet” itself shortly
after. The original toy nappies of poor quality were long gone,
but Hank’s wife had been a neo-natal nurse and had gotten hold of
some proper miniature nappies that fitted just fine. Cathy was
endlessly fascinated – and, like all children through the ages,
was thrilled to play with toys that had been her mother’s.

They ate dinner, Hank read an exciting Australian children’s book
for Cathy and before long she was tired enough to go to bed. When
Hank removed the bedspread Cathy was momentarily confused that
the bedding was the same as earlier in the day. Crisp, clean and
sweet smelling; it was like the wetting episode hadn’t happened
at all. She let herself be tucked in, once more briefly wondered
about the crinkling sound – and fell into deep sleep.

Chapter 4

To her despair, Cathy was drenched again when she woke up next
morning. “Granddad,” she cried out and within moments Hank was
there. He had in fact checked up on her a few minutes before and
was forewarned, so he simply lifted her up, carried her out into
the bathroom, stripped her out of her wet underclothes and
plunked her into the waiting strawberry-scented foam bath. He
kissed her on the top of her head and said “Breakfast when you’ve
finished your bath. I was thinking pancakes today.”

Cathy was confused. Not one hard word. No scolding. Nothing. And
her favorite food for breakfast.

When Hank returned a little later with a towel and some clothes,
he picked her out of the bath, dried her and dressed her. “We got
to get you some summer clothes today,” he said. “It seems you
mother forgot about the season thing. Silly mummy.” Cathy giggled
and gleefully agreed.

They shopped in an air-conditioned shopping complex some distance
from Hank’s home, requiring a fair bit of driving. Hank decided
to let Cathy choose what she wanted. He was concerned that her
small size would mean she wouldn’t be able to get the ‘tween’
stuff he expected her to choose. He needn’t have worried; on the
contrary: Cathy went for the little-girl stuff in bright colors
(lots of pink) and wanted skirts and dresses only, no trousers,
not even shorts. For accessories she again chose the brightly
colored stuff and wanted a lot of hair elastics to put her hair
into pig-tails. She got sandals and snickers and after a light
lunch at the center they drove home. She fell asleep in the car.
Hank could see her nodding, her head getting heavier and heavier.
Her right hand drifted up to her mouth, she sucked on the thumb
and fell asleep. At an intersection, the stop/start eco engine
cut out and Hank could just hear the hissing sound from Cathy’s
crotch as the hated jeans darkened. “Oh well, never mind,” Hank
thought. The upholstery of the child seat is easy to wash. They
have to be.

Cathy was mortified when she woke up – and once more confused by
her grandfather’s complete lack of concern or anger. “You get to
wear one of the new skirts sooner,” he said cheerfully as he led
her to the bathroom and quickly and effectively rinsed her with
the shower head. He decided that the car seat had gotten so
little on it it could be wiped with a very wet cloth and left to
dry in the sun. Next he retrieved this morning’s bed linen that
had been washed and left to dry on the line outside. He folded it
up neatly and put it in a drawer with several sets of the same
pattern, resolving the mystery that had so intrigued Cathy. She
also saw the rubber-backed mattress protectors, answering the
question about the crinkling sound. But one thing she didn’t
understand: Granddad was so calm about it all!

She played with the baby-doll all afternoon, taking it for a walk
around the block in a lovely play-pram. They had dinner, read
stories, and Cathy was off to bed.

Chapter 5

Cathy was soaked once more the next morning. “Granddad,” she
called – this time with less despair in her voice. “I wet the bed
again.”

“Did you sweetheart?” Hank said, appearing in the door. “Poor
you. We’d better get you out of the wet things and have you
washed.”

Cathy could contain it no more. “Granddad, how come you’re not
angry with me?” she asked.

“Angry?” Hank repeated as if not understanding. “Angry about
what?”

“Angry with me, you know, wetting the bed,” Cathy said. “Mummy
always gets so upset with me,” she added barely over a whisper.

“But why should I get angry with you?” Hank asked. “It’s not like
it is your fault, is it?”

“Mummy says big girls don’t wet their beds – or their pants, like
I did yesterday. Only little girls do that…” Cathy trailed off,
tears trickling down her cheeks.

“That’s not true, is it?” Hank countered.

“Huh?” Cathy asked, completely confused.

“Little girls don’t wet their beds and pants, do they?” Hank
asked.

“I don’t understand,” Cathy started.

“Only big girls do that. Little girls wet something else, don’t
they?” Hank asked gently, holding up the baby-doll which was
‘dressed’ in only a nappy.

“Oh, I suppose,” Cathy said while the implications of that sunk
in. “Besides, I don’t want to be big…” she muttered in so low a
voice that Hank could only just hear her.

He picked her up, took her to the bathroom, undressed her and
plunked her in the waiting bath. “I’ll go get breakfast ready,”
he said and left Cathy to enjoy the strawberry scented foam.

Hank had to work that morning so Cathy played – mostly with the
baby doll – but after lunch they walked over to a playground in
the next suburb. It was a very nice playground with lots of
activities and lots of other children. Cathy quickly got over her
shyness and started playing with a group of young children while
Hank sat on a bench in the shade and talked to the other adults,
mainly mothers.

Cathy was so absorbed with the playing that she missed the
signals from her bladder. As she got up from squatting next to
some of her new friends, she felt a spurt of pee escaping, but it
was absorbed by her little cotton panties. She squeezed her
pelvis hard and stopped the flow, but she knew she would need a
toilet – and fast. She ran over to Hank. “Granddad, I need to
pee.”

Hank could see from her little dance that she was serious and
rushed her over to the service block at the far end of the
playground. To his despair they were met by large “Closed for
repairs” signs on all three toilet doors – women, men and
disabled alike. “It seems we’re out of luck Pumpkin. Do you think
you can hold on until we get back?” Hank asked.

“No,” Cathy said. Tears were forming at the corner of both eyes.

“Tell you what,” Hank said. “Go sit on the grass over there and
make sure you are not sitting on you skirt. Then just let go. The
grass won’t mind and in that way only your panties get wet.”

Cathy looked startled but then nodded and did as her grandfather
had suggested. She sat down on the grass at the edge near the
flowerbed carefully spreading out the skirt. It felt strange and
for a while she couldn’t will her bursting bladder to let go.
Then she put her right thumb in her mouth, relaxed and moments
later the flow started.

When she had finished, she got up, looked around furtively to see
that no one had noticed anything, and walked over to Hank. “Let’s
go home,” Hank said and offered his hand. Cathy grabbed it and
they walked off. She looked very small and her gait was a little
strange from the wet panties, but her skirt was quite dry. She
was deep in thoughts.

“I guess I am a big girl after all,” Cathy suddenly said with a
giggle when they were almost home.

“What do you mean?” Hank asked slightly confused.

“I wet my pants just like big girls do,” Cathy said with another
giggle that turned into a laugh.

Hank laughed too. “Yup, so you did.”

He cleaned her up with the shower head, once more eliciting loud
giggles. “It tickles!” she squealed, but she didn’t want him to
stop.

Chapter 6

While dinner cooked in the oven and Cathy watched some children’s
TV, Hank slipped out to the local shops for some quick purchases.
When it was time to put Cathy to bed after dinner and reading,
Hank picked her up, looked her in the eyes and asked “OK, little
girl or big girl?”

Cathy was a first confused, but then she got it. She looked into
her grandfather’s mild grey eyes, seeing nothing but love and
affection. “Little girl, please,” she whispered.

“OK”, Hank said. “Let’s clean your teeth and then come with me to
your bedroom.”

Wearing only a tee-shirt, Cathy was placed on a towel  on the bed
and Hank proceeded to rub cream into her nappy area, then
sprinkled her liberally with baby powder before putting a Pampers
size 6 years on her. He then tucked her in. “Sleep tight
Pumpkin,” he said. “This time you will wake up dry.”

Falling asleep was not easy though – the forgotten sensation of
being in nappies took some time to get used to. There was an
additional crinkle when she moved around, but first and last she
felt warm, snug and safe.

Not being in a wet bed meant the Cathy slept much longer. Hank
had expected that and didn’t wake her up before nine. “Good
morning Pumpkin,” he said. “Slept well?”

“Yes Granddad,” Cathy said happily, stretching out – only now
feeling the heavy nappy around her waist. “Eh, my nappy is very,
‘eh, wet…” she trailed off.

“Sure,” Hank said. “That’s what it’s there for.  Your bath is
ready.” He picked her up, carried her to the bathroom, stripped
her of her tee-shirt and removed the well used nappy before
plunking her in the bath.

So went the following week. The nappies solved Cathy’s night time
problems and her day time was full of fun and adult attention.
Hank and her played, read stories, visited the sites of the
Capital and had a great time. When Hank had to do some work Cathy
was very good at entertaining herself. On one occasion Hank had
to call on a client, but she was home too having school aged kids
as well. Her just teenaged twin daughters made much of Cathy –
offering to baby-sit ‘any time’. Mid-week late one night Camilla
rang on a very bad satellite phone connection. She sounded
despondent. “If Hell exists on earth it is here,” she sighed.
Hank who knew his daughter’s usually unbreakable resilience was
concerned. He sent another large sum to MSF – it was all he could
do. Except of course assuring his daughter that Cathy was doing
very well. “Any problems?” Camilla asked just before the call
broke up.

“None,” Hank assured. “None what so ever. And I’ve updated her
wardrobe for the climate…”

“Ups, yeah, I guess the suitcase was more geared for the winter
holiday in Brittany we were planning on,” Camilla said sounding
fairly sheep-faced through the static.

“Not to worry,” her father assured her. “We’re doing great.” He
didn’t know if she had heard him though. The line was now dead.

On Friday Cathy asked if they could go to ‘the great playground’
once more. Hank readily agreed, but remembering last week’s
episode and being fairly certain that no further work would have
been done on the toilet facilities, he asked Cathy if perhaps she
would like to wear a nappy – ‘just in case’. After a bit of
thought Cathy agreed.

It felt strange to have a nappy on during day time and Cathy was
adamant she wouldn’t need it, having gone to the toilet just
before they went out. But once at the playground she forgot all
about it. Several of her new friends from the week before were
there and they quickly established a good game. On occasion they
would ‘check base’ with their respective adults for a hug, a
snack or a drink of water, but otherwise they looked after
themselves.

“Your…?.” A woman started after Cathy had darted back to the
sandpit.

“Granddaughter”, Hank offered

“Your granddaughter is a real cutie,” the woman resumed. “And her
language is really advanced for her age.”

Hank smiled. In her pink skirt, pink t-shirt, pink sandals and
pig-tails held by pink elastics with large pink plastic hearts
Cathy didn’t look a day over five. He simply nodded.

“But she is still in nappies?” the woman asked.

“Cathy has the occasional day-time accidents,” Hank conceded.
“And with the toilets here out of order, we took the precaution.”

“Wise,” the woman agreed. “I wish I could get my Jimmy to be as
sensible. He is also five and I have all kinds of problems when
we are out for a long time, on road trips and so on. He
absolutely refuses to wear a nappy. I can’t count the number of
times we’ve ended up with wet pants. I tried trainer pants, but
he won’t have a bar of those either.”

“Oh, we have no problems in that respect,” Hank said. “Cathy
would rather have a nappy on than wet clothes.”

At exactly that moment Cathy, hitherto completely absorbed in the
game, suddenly realized that her bladder was full beyond
capacity. Almost involuntarily she put her right thumb in her
mouth and released the contents of her bladder into the nappy.
The pee was absorbed quickly, leaving a warm feeling.

Jimmy, sitting next to her didn’t notice what happened to Cathy.
But moments later, to his chagrin, he released a torrent of pee
himself, drenching his underwear, shorts, socks and sandals.
“Mummy,” he wailed and ran over to the bench. Cathy followed him.

“See what I mean?” the woman said in a hopeless tone. “Better get
you home buster,” she said to her son. “Why couldn’t you be a
smart as your friend?”

“I couldn’t help it Mummy,” Jimmy sobbed.

“Neither could Cathy, but she was smart enough to be prepared,”
Jimmy’s mother said, eyeing Cathy’s visibly sagging nappy.

“Prepared?” Jimmy sniffled.

“Yes – she’s wearing a nappy because she knows there is no toilet
here,” the woman said.

“Really?” Jimmy sniffled.

“Really,” Hank confirmed.

Cathy blushed slightly, but she didn’t feel nearly as embarrassed
as she thought she would have.

As the sobbing and dripping Jimmy was let home by his mother,
Hank turned to Cathy. “Sorry about that Pumpkin. Jimmy’s mother
spotted your nappy herself.  I didn’t know she was going to tell
Jimmy.”

“That’s OK Granddad,” Cathy said. “It was a good idea to wear
it.”

“You mean it is wet?” Hank said only now discovering the sag.
“Oh, yes, I can see that it is.”

“Uh huh,” Cathy said.

“Well, I have brought another,” Hank said, “but there is really
nowhere I can change you.”

“That’s OK Granddad,” Cathy said again. “With Jimmy gone I think
I’d rather go home anyway. I’m kind of tired.”

They walked home in silence. When they got to the house, Hank
took Cathy to the bathroom and removed the saggy nappy. He washed
and dried her. Holding a pair of panties in his hand he suddenly
remembered Cathy’s comment. “You said you were tired. Do you want
a nap?”

“Uh huh,” Cathy nodded, looking down.

“Big girl or little girl nap?” Hank asked.

Cathy looked up at her grandfather. He was offering something she
hadn’t dare ask for, but really wanted.  “Little girl”, she
whispered.

Hank undressed her, but on a fresh nappy and carried her to her
bedroom. In the mid day heat, she didn’t need any clothes and he
just covered her with a sheet.

“Sleep well Pumpkin,” Hank said, kissing her forehead. “Granddad
will be in his office working. “

“OK,” Cathy said and rolled over on her side. The snug feeling of
the nappy made her feel safe. Safe and loved. She put her thumb
in her mouth and fell asleep.

She woke up two hours later. Her bladder was bursting again. She
once more put her thumb in her mouth and let go. She could hear
the hissing sound of her pee streaming into the nappy and feel it
getting warm and tight, but she didn’t feel wet. She felt
wonderful. ‘I don’t want to be big,’ she thought.

Chapter 7

When Hank picked up Cathy after her little afternoon sleep the
very wet and obviously still warm nappy was not mentioned. He had
brought a warm washer and a towel, so he washed and dried her,
then dressed her in panties and a summer dress.  “Run a long and
play,” he said, “Granddad needs to work a few more hours.”

“OK,” Cathy replied. “But don’t forget we’re watching that show
on TV tonight.”

‘That show’ was some inane awards show that had been heavily
promoted for weeks now. Hank wasn’t sure that Camilla would have
let Cathy watch it back home, but then he was sure she wouldn’t
let her have nappies either. Besides, it was likely to be
harmless. He simply nodded.

After dinner, Hank said “OK; we can watch the show together, but
you need to get ready for bed first in case you get sleepy.”

“Not fair,” Cathy pouted. “You promised we could have snacks.”

“I did, and I keep my promises, but it would be easier to pop you
in bed if all I have to do is brush your teeth. Capito?” Hank
said in his best Godfather imitation.

The reference was lost on Cathy, but she happily found her
nightdress – and a nappy and the cream and powder and moments
later Hank put a nappy on his granddaughter – like it was the
most natural thing in the world.

Snuggled up closely on the sofa, Hank and Cathy watched the show
and pigged out on an orgy of snacks and drinks (beer for Hank,
soda for Cathy). They enjoyed themselves immensely. To Hank’s
relief, the show’s two hosts – a pair of well known comedians –
were doing a great job with good laughs for young and old alike.
The show was very long and with all the drinks, Cathy bladder was
soon uncomfortably full. She was squirming but didn’t want to
leave right now at the most exciting moment when the winner in
the category that interested her the most was about to be
announced.

Cathy looked up at her grandfather. He had noticed the squirming
and just nodded. Cathy bit her lip and squeezed her pelvis hard.
Hank kissed her forehead and rubbed her stomach. Bowing to the
inevitable, Cathy put her thumb in her mouth and let go. In
addition to the sheer relief, she also felt that strange pleasure
she had experienced earlier when she woke up and wetted herself
deliberately in the afternoon. At the same time, her favorite
singer won the award and her happiness was complete. Shortly
after she fell asleep in her grandfather’s lap. She was only
barely awake when Hank cleaned her teeth, changed her into a dry
nappy and plunked her into bed a little while later.

The following morning, Cathy woke up early. The nappy was wet but
not very heavy or uncomfortable. She decided to get up and watch
TV while her grandfather slept. She got herself some cereal with
milk and happily watched the morning show for small children.
When that finished, she went back to her room and started playing
with the toys that had been her mother’s.  When Hank finally woke
up and went to check on Cathy he saw that she was already up,
sitting on the floor playing with the baby doll. From the doorway
he could see her now heavy nappy. She stopped the game, but her
thumb in her mouth and moments later the hissing sound announced
that once more his granddaughter had reverted to being a little
girl.

“How about you finish changing Dolly and then I change you?” Hank
asked.

Cathy swirled around startled. Was Granddad really going to let
her be in nappies all the time, she wondered. It would seem so.
“Yes please,” she whispered. Moments later the heavy nappy was
off her, she got washed, powdered and had a fresh nappy on.

“I’ll make the breakfast and call you when it’s ready,” Hank
said. Cathy just nodded, smiled and resumed the game. She
couldn’t have been happier. She was allowed to be a little girl.
She had a nappy on. Not for sleeping and not for going places.
Just to use – like she was a baby.

They did go places though – to a matinee of a popular children’s
film. Cathy nappy was quite dry when they left, but she got
popcorn to snack on during the movie and a large soda that went
down quickly because of the salty snack. The movie was exciting.
Perhaps a little too exciting, Cathy thought and before long she
climbed up on Hank’s lap. At the most scary point, she got such a
fright she momentarily lost her bladder control and let out a
large squirt of pee in the nappy. She was just about to cry but
then remembered there was nothing to cry about. “I got so scared
I wet myself,” she giggled in Hank’s ear.

“That’s OK Pumpkin. Little girls can wet whenever they like.
That’s why they have nappies on,” Hank whispered back.

“Hmmm,” Cathy agreed. She put her thumb in her mouth, snuggled
closely into Hank and let go again, this time on purpose. That
happy feeling returned. It returned again when she wet herself
once more during the long drive home.

“Do you need a change?” Hank asked when they were back at house.

“Yes please,” Cathy said and led her grandfather by the hand to
the bathroom. It was a scorching hot day and Cathy ran around in
just a nappy until dinnertime. For the rest of the day, when ever
Cathy felt the slightest urge she would simply let go. And there
was plenty coming – with the warm weather, Hank ensured she was
drinking a lot of liquid.

Chapter 8

During the following week Cathy was a happy little nappy girl. At
no point after she scare in the cinema was she unaware of wetting
the nappy. In fact that was true for day and night alike. From
Sunday onwards she woke up dry every morning – but with a very
full bladder. She would put her thumb in her mouth, let go and
get the happy feeling. She never wore panties during the day,
only nappies. Whenever she felt the nappy was too full or
uncomfortable, she would ask Hank for a change. He did so without
any comments. To his quiet relief she would always do number two
on the toilet, but that wasn’t commented on either. Unlike his
daughter who thought the wetting was attention grapping, he was
sure that his granddaughter had been under a lot of pressure to
‘be big’. What she needed was being allowed to be a little girl
for a while. This Aussie Summer with Granddad gave her exactly
that.

On the Friday Hank had an unavoidable social/professional
engagement. Remembering the sincere sounding offer by the
teenaged twins, he rang his client, their mother, and asked if
they could babysit. Assuring them that he wouldn’t be far away
and wouldn’t stay out late, the mother’s reservations were
overruled by the girls’ enthusiasm. The client was somewhat
concerned about letting a pair of 13-year olds looking after
‘such a small girl’, but Hank reassured her that Cathy as in fact
8, nearly 9, only very small for her age.

“Bethany and Denise are going to look after you on Friday
evening,” Hank said when the agreement had been struck.

Cathy was happy – she had liked the big girls a lot, but then she
got concerned. “What about my, you know, my…” she trailed off and
looked down. It was another very hot day, so all she wore was a
nappy.

Hank got it. “Your nappies?” he asked. “Not a problem.
Babysitters need to take care of that all the time. Lots of kids
are in night-nappies well into their school years and they will
just be told you wear them during the day too.”

“OK,” Cathy said. Granddad was so cool about it all. She hoped
Bethany and Denise would be too. She could give up the nappies
for an evening of course, but she didn’t want to.

She didn’t have to. Bethany and Denise were way cool about it.
Cathy was the little sister they never had and they enjoyed
looking after her. Even when told that Cathy was actually close
to 9, not 5 that didn’t change anything. They ‘babied’ her
happily and nearly fought over who should change her.

“How come you’re wearing them now?” Denise asked when she had a
moment alone with Cathy. She was more than a little curious about
this nappy-business. “You didn’t wear them when you visited us
last.”

“I, uh, kind off, you know, kept being wet at night,” Cathy said.
“And then Granddad got them for me. And they feel good and I
fell, you know, safe.”

“And so you got to wear them during the day too?” Denise
breathed. This was a concept she had never thought of. It had a
strange appeal to her.

“Yes,” Cathy whispered. “It’s nice not having to be big.”

That hit home. Unlike her twin-sister who was enjoying puberty –
Bethany couldn’t wait for her miniscule breasts to reach her
mother’s generous E-cup size; Denise had no desire to leave her
childhood behind just yet. When Cathy was asleep and Bethany was
watching TV, Denise snuck out to the bathroom, pinched a couple
of nappies and hid them in her bag. She was aware that they were
too small for her, but she hoped she could somehow wear two and
try out what it was like being a little girl herself. Hank
actually spotted the nappies when he paid the girls for their
babysitting duty a little later and Denise very reluctantly had
to get her purse out. Luckily neither Bethany nor their mother
who had come to pick them up noticed and Hank just winked to the
blushing girl.

Chapter 9

Cathy’s happy ‘extra summer’ continued. Because of her small
size, she had been held back from school a year – which was a
mistake since she was exceedingly bright. Nevertheless Camilla
had promised the school that Cathy would keep up her school work
while away, and so for an hour or so every day Cathy would sit at
the table in the kitchen doing her year 5 school work, often
‘dressed’ in nothing but a nappy. Hank would watch her work on
some problem in deep concentration, then see her ‘faze out’, her
thumb drifting to her mouth and the tell-tale hissing announcing
another wet nappy – before she resumed the work.

Then, after a nappy change, a snack, a mid-day snooze and more
often than not another nappy change, Cathy would resume playing
like a five year old. She couldn’t have been happier.

All good things come to an end, the saying goes and mid February
a very upbeat Camilla was on the phone again. “We did it Dad, we
did it!” she exclaimed. “No new cases for the last week and no
deaths for twice that. We’ll hang in here for another week just
to be sure, but then we’re coming out to get Cathy.”

“That’s lovely sweetheart,” Hank said with feeling. “Well done
indeed. Let me know when you get her so we can go up to Sydney to
meet you.”

“Oh don’t worry about that Dad. We’ll come and stay for a couple
of days with you,” Camilla said. “We’ll let you know when we’re
there.”

“That would be lovely,” Hank said in delight. Before he could get
a chance to inquire exactly what his daughter meant by ‘we’ the
line went dead.

‘I wonder, I just wonder,’ Hank thought to himself, but he didn’t
say anything to Cathy about that.

He did tell her about her mother’s impending return of course.
Cathy was out-and-out happy about that, as Hank had confidently
expected. He did mention the nappy situation though, leaving it
as an open choice for Cathy what she wanted to do.

“Oh, I think I’ll stop wearing them,” she replied after a
moment’s thought. “Mum wouldn’t want me to wear them and I
couldn’t wear them to school when I get home.” She added a little
wistfully. “I’ll miss not having to be big.”

“Oh, I think there will be other things to think about that will
make you happy,” Hank said. “But we’d better start toilet
training you,” he added. “Going from nappies around the clock to
completely dry in a week will not be easy.”

“That’s OK,” Cathy said. “It’s not like I don’t know when I need
to pee.”

“Is that so?” Hank said – feigning surprise. “What about in the
nights?” he added, genuinely not knowing.

“I, uh, I’ve been, you know, dry every morning for a long time
now,” Cathy stammered – now worried that her grandfather might
finally be annoyed with her.

“Super,” Hank said with feeling. “That makes it much easier.
Don’t panic if you have an accident or two, but let’s work on
avoiding them – you know, drink less before bed and remember to
go to the toilet.”

“Sure,” Cathy said with a big smile and a conspiratorial wink.
“No need to upset Mum.”

A bit over a week later – a completely dry week later, Cathy and
Hank was standing on the porch watching out for cars arriving.
When a mid-sized rental parked at the curb, Cathy was beside
herself with excitement. Then her mother got out – on the
passenger side, and a moment later a tall handsome dark-skinned
man got out from the driver’s side. “Mum – Dad!!!”  Cathy
screamed and rushed down to meet them. Her embrace of Camilla was
warm and genuine, but then she launched herself in Kamal’s arms
and wouldn’t let go. “Dad, Dad, Dad. You came home. With Mum!”
she kept repeating in a high excited voice.

“So that’s what you meant by ‘we’,” Hank said in his daughter’s
ear. “I was hoping that. Didn’t tell Cathy though. I was sure she
would love the surprise.”

“Yes Dad,” Camilla smiled at her father. “Kamal was my savior.
When it looked the bleakest – two of my staff desperately ill,
the rate of infection still going up and people dying like flies
around me, he came to my rescue out of nowhere. We worked and
worked and worked and got the epidemic under control. And at the
same time we fell in love all over again.”

Hank looked hard at his daughter. She bit her lip, then corrected
herself. “That’s not true. I never stopped loving him. It was all
my stubborn pride. I guess all I needed was some excuse to let go
of the anger and resentment. He gave me that again and again 20
hours a day for several weeks. I have never been so exhausted and
never been so much in love.”

Three days later the little family left for the UK, promising to
be back soon. Hank felt a big hole in his heart. “Thanks for
everything,” Cathy said after bestowing her grandfather with a
final wet kiss.

“My pleasure Pumpkin,” Hank replied. “There is always room for my
little girl in my house.”

Only Cathy heard and understood the emphasis on little girl. Her
mother had asked in a generic way if there had been ‘any
problems’. Hank simply replied, in complete accordance with the
truth, that no, there had been no problems. Cathy had looked up
and smiled. Her secret was safe – as she knew it would be.

Chapter 10 – nearly a year later

“Do you really think it is a good idea to go bush in your
condition?” Hank asked worriedly, eyeing his daughter’s clearly
swelling belly.

“Don’t be such a worrier Dad,” Camilla replied.  “I’m fine.
Pregnancy is not an illness. Besides I’m only there for show.”

“For show?” Hank asked incrediously. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”

“Well, you know how Polio was so very nearly eradicated – but
then some illiterate village clerics in outback Nigeria, one of
the last places on earth where it is still rampant, got it into
their heads that the immunization program was a Christian
conspiracy to make Muslim girls infertile – and we lost the
chance.” Camilla said.

“Ouch,” Hank exclaimed. “That kind of thing can be pretty
difficult to overcome.”

“Exactly,” his daughter agreed. “So we’ll use the same kind of
tactics.”

“Huh?” Hank asked, not getting it.

“Yes, well, we will tell them that the conspiracy was really to
prevent Muslims from being immunized so that only they will die.
The new program is paid for by the Sultan of Brunei – the world’s
richest Muslim. All health workers are Muslim women from Malaysia
– many of them visibly pregnant. And the lead doctor is a
respected Muslim from Pakistan – your son in law, bringing his
also visibly pregnant wife,” Camilla said, patting her belly.
“They’ll buy that.”

Hank laughed. “That’s clever – it might just work.”

“We sure hope so,” Kamal said. “As you say, it is nearly
impossible to debunk conspiracy theories. But your clever
daughter suggested that we out-conspiracy the previous one, as it
were. It could just do the trick.” He looked lovingly at Camilla.

“It is certainly worth a try,” Hank agreed. “And I take it no one
will mention that the Muslim Doctor’s Doctor-Wife is no Muslim
herself?” he laughed.

“Nah, we’ll skip that one,” Camilla agreed. “But that leaves you
with the onerous task of entertaining Cathy for another summer,”
she said lightly.

“I think I’ll manage,“ Hank said with a dramatic sigh. “If only
just…”

Cathy’s mock-outraged play-punch made them laugh all round. They
had spent a wonderful Christmas together in Canberra and now it
was time for Camilla and Kamal to leave. They got into the taxi
after a last final round of farewell hugs.

Hank was standing behind Cathy with his left hand on her
shoulder. They were both waving. As the taxi disappeared round
the corner and out of sight, Cathy right hand went to her mouth.
She sucked her thumb and released her aching bladder, completely
flooding her jeans, socks and shoes.

“Granddad,” she whispered barely louder than the hissing sound
from her crotch. “I wet myself.”

“So you did Pumpkin,” Hank said, “so you did.  We’d better get
you cleaned up and put you in a nappy.”

“Will last year’s nappies still fit?” Cathy asked, taking Hank’s
proffered hand and walking back to the house. She had grown a lot
since she was in Australia last.

“No, I don’t think so, “Hank answered, “But the new ones I bought
will. You’ll like them – they have a pretty pink pattern on them.
And I’ve bought some nice skirts for you too.”

Cathy smiled happily. This was going to be a great summer. She
walked a little awkwardly in her drenched jeans. She couldn’t
wait to be a care-free little girl in nappies and skirts again.

THE END.