Saturday Football Highlights

Chapter 1
Let's all cheer for the home team!

Chapter Description: Mr. Bocian knows his profession. He knows it all too well...

Mr. Smith was in his living room watching the game on the television when his front doorbell rang. He got up from his comfortable position and enjoyment of his beloved game to grumpily answer the door.

“Good afternoon,” Said a man wearing a spotless white uniform on his front porch. “My name is Mr. Bocian and I’m with the Dapper Dan Diaper Company. I understand that you’re in need of our product today, Mr. Smith.”

Mr. Smith simply wanted to get back to his game. The last thing he needed was a pushy salesman interrupting his precious free time. “No, Mr. ‘Bocian’ was it? I do not need your services today. I’m not married, nor am I babysitting,” So saying, he went to shut the door.

The door wouldn’t close due to Mr. Bocian’s size 12 foot encased in a well-polished black leather Oxford preventing it. “I do apologize for my being rather forward, but you need to hear me out.”

Mr. Smith considered himself to be a civil man. A civil man would reasonably put aside everything else when another civil person called attention to a matter of importance. He weighed the options of a diaper service over his beloved game and made a civilized decision. “Not interested,” he said as he kicked Mr. Bocian’s foot out of his door frame and closed his door soundly before turning back to his living room and his entertainment.

Mr. Bocian stood in front of Mr. Smith’s door for a long pause, shrugged his shoulders, and muttered something under his breath. He then picked up his matching white sample case and left.

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Mr. Smith was back to enjoying his game and drinking a lager while doing so. The players were tied 1-1 in the third quarter with the clock running down to the last few seconds before the fourth. The announcer called out the action on the field with a voice tinged with great excitement as the star player for the opposing team came out from the back and dribbled the ball with his foot to their goal. Mr. Smith was caught up in the action and didn’t notice as his bladder began to empty.

A steady trickle became a raging torrent as the ball was nudged up the field by the feet of several opposing team members. As the ball went unopposed into the goal, Mr. Smith only then realized he had done something to himself that hadn’t been done since he was five; he had pissed himself.

The situation got worse over the next week. A visit to the doctor only elicited a prognosis of “It’s probably just nerves, wear an incontinence product and get back to us.”

By the time the next game in the series was scheduled to be played, Mr. Smith was wearing a bulky disposable and found it hard to enjoy the game and monitor his bladder’s needs simultaneously. It was with some pleasure then that when the doorbell went off, he answered the door and found Mr. Bocian once again standing there.

Mr. Bocian went into his spiel “Cloth nappies are the best bang for your buck that you can get for your incontinence needs. The only problem is that they pile up and need cleaning before too long. That’s why we offer our diaper service with regular pickup and drop-offs every few days”.

Mr. Smith expressed his doubt about cloth over disposable and Mr. Bocian, to prove his point, stepped inside with his sample case in one hand and grabbed Mr. Smith’s with his other. He set Mr. Smith down on the carpet of his living room, pulled out a small cloth-backed rubber mat and several creams and powders from his sample case, and set up a make-shift changing station. Mr. Smith was mesmerized by the speed and efficiency at which Mr. Bocian performed and passively went along with no fuss.

Several samples of diapers were presented up to Mr. Smith to feel and try while the faint smells of lotions and perfumed powder wafted to his nostrils. He was reminded of a time when his mother patiently changed out his soiled diapers for fresh ones as a small child. The memory was so strong, he could swear he was feeling the coolness of the cleaning cloth on his privates and bum. He came out of his stupor to find that he was wearing a triple-layered flat fold with several soaker pads with rubber pants pulled over them for good measure. The amount of cloth was so thick that Mr. Smith had to sit on the floor due to his legs being pushed so far apart.

Mr. Smith smiled happily and went to drink his beer from his sippy cup only to find that it was apple juice. He didn’t mind though, as his team was beating the opposing team 2-0 in the final quarter. Mr. Bocian had somehow disappeared and had been forgotten. Mr. Smith waved his team's pennant as they held their lead and won the game.

Mr. Smith wore cloth for the next week and took advantage of Mr. Bocian’s services to the fullest. He even took to wearing just a t-shirt and the diapers with a cover around his house. He stopped worrying about his bladder and just went with the flow.

On a Saturday, Mr. Smith listened to his team’s progress on an old radio that he had dug up from storage. It made the experience more interactive to him as he rocked back and forth on the carpet drinking his juice and sucking on a pacifier while the announcer called out the plays on the field.

“Well, Barkham’s got the ball, he’s moving up for the hand-off to Needham, OH! Too bad! His huggee has blown out! Should have worn cloth like the rest of the team, in my opinion, I know I’m happy enough to!” Mr. Smith wholeheartedly agreed.

The front door was opened by Mr. Bocian, who hadn’t even bothered to ring the bell, as he brought his sample case into the living room without as much as a “hello”. He pulled out a baby bottle from his display case filled with milk and replaced Mr. Smith’s sippy cup with it. Mr. Smith didn’t argue, he just put the bottle to his lips and began feeding. He then fell backward on the floor and held the bottle with his hands and continued to feed.

The Announcer called out the progress of the team as they struggled to move an old worn-out soccer ball across the clumpy sandlot to the make-shift net. One or two wore proper uniform shirts while the rest just went bare-backed and waddled up and down the field in all their terry-clothed glory. Several mothers clapped and cheered as their precious children made them proud by being able to run after graduating from grabbing table legs and chairs to help them stand up. One or two fell down on their behinds and got back up on unsteady feet to run after the ball with childish screams of joy.

Mr. Bocian retrieved Bobby Smith from the piles of cloth that engulfed and covered him. He put him in a flannel diaper with a terry insert and plastic pants clothing him in a full-body onesie. Putting him on a square of cloth, he wrapped his package very carefully, picked up little Bobby with his long beak, and carried him out the door. He then flew away with Bobby in his cloth sling bobbling rhythmically from his bill. Bobby was peacefully and serenely asleep.