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So, this memory suddenly came flooding (pun not entirely intended) to me. This occurred when I was about six. It was a few months into the first grade. It had been a few weeks since this story:

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This takes me back. I was about six years old. I was still padded, as my previous experiences will tell. This was on one occasion wherein I had decided to try and use the urinals in the bathroom closest to my classroom for the first time that year. In if act, I don't think I really ever used urinals when I was younger. As I went to go use it, I realized A. I couldn't get the clasp reliably off my pants, and B. The two older kids, who were, at best, in third grade, maybe fourth max, would see my padding. I tried asking one of them for help removing my pants, but backed off, went into the stall, and soaked my diaper 

 

So, yeah, this was awhile after this story. I had gotten into the backseat of my mom´s car, as we began driving home. On the drive back, which would take about fifteen to twenty minutes at best, I felt this strong urge to pee. Thinking very little of it, I let stream out like a golden waterfall into my Pull-Ups. However, I underestimated their capacity, as I quickly soaked through my Pull-Ups, and into my khaki pants. My mom was, as usual, understanding, and changed me into a spare pair of Pull-Ups, though had to let my pants dry atop a plastic sheet. 

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  • 9 months later...
On 4/3/2017 at 10:55 PM, diokno44x said:

So, this memory suddenly came flooding (pun not entirely intended) to me. This occurred when I was about six. It was a few months into the first grade. It had been a few weeks since this story:

So, yeah, this was awhile after this story. I had gotten into the backseat of my mom´s car, as we began driving home. On the drive back, which would take about fifteen to twenty minutes at best, I felt this strong urge to pee. Thinking very little of it, I let stream out like a golden waterfall into my Pull-Ups. However, I underestimated their capacity, as I quickly soaked through my Pull-Ups, and into my khaki pants. My mom was, as usual, understanding, and changed me into a spare pair of Pull-Ups, though had to let my pants dry atop a plastic sheet. 

nice. Were you actually considering asking the kid for help. I would have been way to scared to do that.

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  • 1 month later...

As I've posted in other threads I'm the middle child with an older and younger sister. I do remember mom picking my up from kindergarden one day after school so we could run a few errands. I really had to pee bad and mom rather than have my soak the cloth car seats had my sit in my baby sisters plastic car seat to wet my pants. I sat in a puddle until we got home, but I can see the logic in it. I would have been 5 years old at the time and mom was understanding of the situation.

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I've always found the 'parent's permission' thing interesting, and have often wondered if this was a planned vouyeristic thing on their behalf. When I was around 10 years old, I had a mother leave her 4 year old boy under my supervision (while she chatted with my mother), knowing full well that he was desperate for a toilet stop (and must have been showing signs before leaving their home). He did, after a short while of playing and fidgeting, fill and soak his shorts. When I reported this to his mother, she made out that it was my fault, but I suspect it was a kind of plan. As an adult, I crashed a family friend's picnic (unexpectedly) and found her primary-school aged daughter standing motionless after having just had a full on diarrhea explosion into her tights and shorts. Her mother was a nurse, and I suspect that she too had planned for her (passive) child to have an 'accident'. Perhaps this was how an omo fetish was played out pre-internet.

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