Dear John,

For the last four years my husband has been urinary incontinent. Despite operations, the problem has not been corrected. The products we were supplied with are rubbish for night time use, so I purchased real nappies made for adults along with plastic pants.

The trouble is that I like to put them on him and love to cuddle up to his diapered bum. My husband doesn't mind at all, but I would love to dress him as a baby as well. He says he wouldn't mind in essence, but does this mean that I have a fetish of some kind, or that I'm kinky? I would love to hear what you think of this matter!

Dear John writes:

Anybody who has caught an episode of Jerry Springer when they've stumbled in from the pub will be familiar with the concept of "adult babies" - people who get a sexual kick out of wearing a nappy and acting like an infant, while their partner acts as parent, nurturer and disciplinarian. (Dear reader - if you've never heard of this phenomenon, then I expect that splashing noise you just heard was your monocle falling into your brandy.)


Now, this is usually the bit where I point out that attaching any kind of morality to legal, consensual sex between adults is the behaviour of closed-minded curtain-twitchers who ought to be concentrating on righting the lack of excitement going on in their own bedrooms rather than wagging fingers at their fellow human beings for daring to enjoy themselves.

However, you don't mention sex as your reason for wanting to put your husband in plastic pants. Perhaps you just think he'll look cute and cuddly and adorable. However, to ponder the reasons behind your desires would possibly akin to opening up a whole pock-filled Pandora's Box, and probably not result in something that could be summed up in a handy soundbite. Besides, there is a more immediate issue at hand: your betrothed.

You say that your husband wouldn't mind being dressed as a baby "in essence". However, those two words indicate that he's not exactly thrilled at the prospect of spending his evening waving a rattle and being spoon-fed – especially if it might distract from his grown-up pursuits, such as reading the works of Proust, or dropping his dinner down his front while gurgling at the telly. (Hang on...)

I think you should be reminded that he's not wearing them for fun. He has a medical condition that requires them, and chances are that he finds accidentally wetting himself humiliating enough, without being asked to wear a bonnet while he's doing it.

If he genuinely is keen on the idea, then by all means start stocking up on talc and rusks. But bear in mind that although your dear old Uncle John is an open-minded sort, a lot of people probably aren't – and your husband's reputation at work, or even down the social, will have the equivalent of a dirty nappy wiped all over it if your evening proclivities become common knowledge.

So, before you start running up that pair of size 11 bootees, invest in some thicker curtains. Don't hang the giant babygros on the line. And don't take him down Asda dressed like that either, because those baby seats on the trolleys won't be big enough. Believe me. I've tried.

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