This is my first story so please be gentle. Just intended to be a cute little story expanding on my memories growing up and with a bit or artistic licence. Hope it’s ok to post here.
Charlie’s Holiday. Chapter 1
I was woken up early that morning and bundled straight into the car half asleep. It was still dark outside so I had no idea what time it was. My mum silently strapped me into the car seat and I drifted back off to sleep.
When I next woke up it was much brighter outside and I looked out of the window to see we were now in a car park.
“Good morning sleepy head” my mum chirped as she undid my seatbelts.
I was still pretty sleepy so I didn’t really say anything, preferring to rub the sleepiness out of my eyes and stretch. I could see my dad was round the back of the car getting our suitcases out of the boot as my mum joined him.
I jumped down out of the car and watched my dad go and get a trolley to carry the cases. I loved being at the airport, as it was super exciting. Not only did I like going on planes but it also meant we were going on holiday.
Once everything was loaded up my mum put a zip up fleece top on over my pyjama top and slipped some crocks onto my feet. I wasn’t cold but didn’t complain as the top always made me snuggly warm.
We headed down in the lift and I held my mums hand as she led us into the airport departure area. My dad checked the screens and told us which way we had to go to find the check in desk.
When we got there the queue was huge which made my dad quite cross. My parents had a bit of a mini argument about it as my mum tried to calm him down and telling him not to get so stressed about everything. My dad definitely had a bit of a short temper and always seemed to get stressed about things, especially when driving, where he would often shout at the other drivers and even used bad words sometimes.
I got bored fairly quickly so I tried to entertain myself by climbing on to the trolley and riding it every time we moved along the snaking queue.
After what seemed like an age we were finally at the front of the queue and the lady took our bags. I watched as they were whisked away on a conveyor belt and wondered to myself where they went and how they got to the other airport for us to pick up.
My mum took our carry on bags out of the trolley and put my back pack on my back, before we headed away from the checkin desk and onto security. I never really liked this bit as I found it scary. I was always worried what would happen if the detector went off and whether they wouldn’t let me go on holiday. My mum always used to tell me that would never happen but I was still worried.
The queue for security was also long and I started to feel like I needed to wee.
“Mum I need a wee” I announced probably far too loudly, as the teen girl in front of me turned around and almost chuckled.
“Try and hold it, I am going to get you changed in the bathroom once we are through security, it shouldn’t be too much longer.” She replied.
Like the check-in queue we snaked backwards and forwards, slowly getting closer to the big scary scanning machines. The pressure on my bladder continued to grow and whilst I had started to fidget as a consequence of my pressing need to pee, I managed to hold on all the way until we got to the front.
My mum took my back pack off and they took stuff out of the bags and put it into big grey trays. I didn’t really understand why they had to that because it all seemed to go the same way anyway. But before long it was my turn to go through the scanner.
I was sent through first and a huge towering security man beckoned me through. So I started to walk towards the arch and actually closed my eyes as I went through. Not sure what I expected that to achieve, but I was just desperate for the alarm to not go off.
I was through and to my delight nothing went off so an involuntary grin spread across my face. Next I watched my parents go through and they also didn’t set it off so we were free to collect our bags.
With that ordeal out of the way my attention was returned to my growing need to pee. I gripped my mums hand tightly as we headed for the departure lounge.
“Do you want to look in the duty free while I go and change him.” my mum suggested to my dad, to which he dutifully agreed. I was pleased that she hadn’t forgotten my pressing need and we headed off away from dad to find a toilet.
I am not sure why, but my mum chose to use the disabled toilet as opposed to the normal one. But at least there was a lot more room in there and it didn’t smell.
My mum put down her bag and my back pack which she had carried from security. She opened up her ruck sack and started to take out my clothes, which were neatly folded and right at the top of the bag. I could see she had pulled out a pair of track pants a t-shirt and a jumper to begin with. Next she pulled out a pull-up and some wipes.
I had a bit of a love hate relationship with pull-ups. On one hand I clearly had been sold by the marketing about how they are much more grown up than nappies and look and feel like underpants. But the reality was they didn’t really feel like underpants. I found them scratchy and sometimes uncomfortable. Especially when they got wet they felt horrible and my mum says they make my bottom get red, which then can hurt.
“I will get you changed into undies once we have got there, this is for just in case. Ok?” My mum announced. The ok was more of a statement than a question so I didn’t really reply. She took my silence as acceptance and said I was a good boy.
Next she took my crocks off and removed my fleece, which left me just in my blue Batman pyjamas. My pyjama top was then quickly taken off before she pulled my bottoms down and got me to step out of them. She folded my pjs up and put them in her bag, before opening the pack of wipes and taking a few out.
She returned her attention to me as I stood there and fidgeted as I tried to keep my bladder cramped shut. She started to undo the tapes on my heavily saturated night nappy, which sagged somewhat between my legs. Once they were undone the nappy dropped away and I felt cool air hit my slightly clammy skin. The coolness was nothing compared to the wipes which felt initially like ice as she wiped me clean.
Even though I was going to be 6 in 2 months I had yet to have a dry night, so had only ever known being put in nappies for bedtime. I am proud to say I was much better during the daytime though and so pull-ups were only ever a thing for long car trips or journeys like this.
I watched as she wrapped up the nappy into a ball with the wipes and put them in the bin that was in the corner. While she did that I quickly sat on the toilet and let my bladder empty which brought instant relief. After that she got me to wipe myself clean and step into the pull-ups, before she finished getting me dressed.
As we walked out of the bathroom I felt the usual scratchiness of the pull-up but other than that it was very thin, so just tried to put it to the back of my mind as I ventured out into the brightness and all the sights and smells of the airport terminal.