From Hubby to Bubby Scene 12

When I change him out of his big boy panties after work any little wettie marks show up really clearly on the white panties he now has to wear after he changes out of his nappy at work. It’s impossible for him to hide even the slightest accident and provides an opportunity for some lighthearted teasing. It’s like a flirtatious dance with words, playing with emotions such as acceptance, shame affirmation, humor, with hints of disapproval, and exasperation. It’s great fun and plays an important role in reinforcing his infantile identity and his dependence on me. I am sure he enjoys these times as much as I do because the end result is always the same for him a deeper sense of gratitude to me for my care of him. Typical of those conversations would be the following as he lays down on the changing mat as soon as he gets home so I can change him out of his work clothes and get him into his baby clothes. Having taken his trousers of I can see whether his panties have been wet or not. If they have I would say something like ;
“Did my little boy wet his panties?”
“Yes Mummy”
“I thought you were trying to be a big boy when at work” I say with a concerned tone.
“I am Mummy”
“Well wetting your panties is not what a big boy does, is it darling?”
“No Mummy”
“What would happen if people at work knew you still wet your pants?”
“They might laugh at me”
“I think they would! After all, they think you are a big person don’t they sweetheart? But your just a little boy who can’t keep his panties dry, aren’t you.”
“I try to keep them, dry Mummy”
“It’s all right darling,” I say with a sigh. “Mummy knows your doing your best, she understands that you’re not a grown-up yet and you’re not really ready for big boys underpants. You are home now so you don’t have to pretend anymore. Shall we get these off you and put you in your nappies?”
“Yes Mummy”
“Yes please, Mummy” I corrected.
“Yes please Mummy”
“Lift up now, that’s my good little baby” I slip his panties off. “Where do these go?”
“In the nappy bucket Mummy.”
“Can you put them in the bucket for Mummy, when she is finished changing you?”
“Yes Mummy”
“Good boy. Whose Mummy’s little helper?”
“I am”
I blow on his tummy and he breaks into giggles. I so enjoy these times.
“What comes next?” I ask.
“Baby oil.”
“But where is the baby?” I tease, looking around the room.
“I am.” Joe laughs. “It’s me.”
“Are you sure?” I say doubtfully. “Babies nurse from their mummy, do you Nurse from your Mummy?
“Yeth Mummy”
“And babies wear a bib at meal times, do you wear a bib?”
“Yeth Mummy”
“And babies play on the floor with their toys, do you play on the floor with your toys?”
“Yeth Mummy”
“Then you must be Mummy’s very own little baby boy,” I say with mock surprise.
Jason always laughs with Joy when I say that.
“And Mummy loves her little boy very much”
Jason with eyes now big and shiny with love always says, “I love you too Mummy.”
“Now what comes next?” I ask.
“My nappy”
“Clever Boy”
“And what sounds do the duckies make” I hold up the nappy pins so he can see.
“Quack Quack,” he says
“I think you are the most clever little boy I know!”
I then hold up two plastic panties and he is allowed to choose which color or pattern he wants.
These nappy changing times have become more fun than either of us could have imagined and deeply bonding