Chapter Text
After giving up on the potty training thing for the next seventeen years, Florinda still had to come up with a backup plan. Unfortunately, Quico just couldn't learn to use a toilet without unspeakable words having to fall from his mother's lips in the presence of polite company. The only option, unfathomable as it seemed, was to keep him in diapers indefinitely.
But not just any diapers. The best child ever born requires the best diapers ever made. That had been easy back when he was a toddler, but now Florinda was limited to brands that offered a size 7. And when kids get to that size, diaper companies tend to adjust their products to accommodate toddlers instead of helpless infants. Some were thin as a promise. Some were practically pull-ups that Quico could pull down by himself and show off his THING. No, Mexican diapers weren't good enough for the precious prince. It was time to think far outside the diaper box. Very far.
X
First up were the posh diapers Florinda imported from England. They held up well and Quico loved the koalas printed on them. "Ma wala!" he'd chirp when his mother set one out to change him into, and the wala would wave to its padded counterpart. But the thing is that British diapers are generally a size below other countries, so they only lasted until the next growth spurt. Florinda liked the diapers, so she offered to get Quico the next size up. But if they didn't have koalas, he wouldn't do it.
So the next time it was time to stock up, they moved onto a package from Germany. Quico was very displeased to learn that there were no koalas, and in fact, these ones were plain white. "No!" he fussed.
Luckily, Florinda had actually thought for the one and only time this year, and after she was finished changing him, she handed him a package of koala stickers, telling him that he could put them on his diapers so he'd have something even better than the other ones - more walas.
But of course she didn't watch him, so yes, Quico did place koalas all over his diaper. And on his arms, legs, face, feet, and stomach. It didn't help that shortly afterward was Quico's nap time, and he woke up with a rash from the adhesive.
Diaper rash was bad enough. Sticker rash was even worse, because a diaper rash was concentrated in one area you usually didn't poke at too much. Stickers, however, were ubiquitous, and that one took a few days to clear up. Quico definitely didn't want to go through that again.
Back to the drawing board.
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Here's a fun fact about diapers in India: they don't use numbers. Rather, sizes begin at XS for newborns and increase to XL or XXL for toddlers. Now, Florinda, being the terribly bright woman she is, figured that she should probably order Quico's usual clothing size, even though he wore the largest size in every other brand. As you might expect, she couldn't even get them on him and sent the manufacturers a snippy review, detailing how diapers intended for children barely holding their heads up didn't fit her nine year old. She did not get a refund, although Quico was happy to use them as stuffie clothes.
Pro tip for anyone searching for products from Saudi Arabia - the entire webpage is in Arabic. You can still search in your preferred language, but you're on your own after that. So Florinda eventually managed to order some diapers, which came about 28 days later. Florinda did not appreciate the customer service message that essentially said not to order things from the Middle East to Mexico if you wanted them immediately.
These ones had a distinctly babyish print, which was perfect for Florinda, who tended to act like her son was an infant. But not only did Quico hate that aspect, they also leaked. Badly. To the point that she had to discreetly buy a new refrigerator while Quico was at school the next day so she could replace his favorite box.
The only ones that would ship to Mexico from Italy were marketed toward girls. Now not only was Quico being put in diapers like a baby, now they were pink. Extra embarrassing. Brazil had a special fondness for Mickey Mouse characters on diapers. Quico hadn't thought much about that before, but now he realized he wanted Sesame Street. Crying ensued when he wasn't able to tell Florinda to make a trip to the Sesame Street Church of God. Japan had some kind of obsession with diapers you had to pull up, which was fine and well until you had to almost completely undress him every time it was time for a fresh diaper. That kept attracting Chavo, who thought that maybe if Quico was naked, his mother would be too and he would finally have some delicious boobs for dinner.
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What to do? Was it true that nowhere in the world had diapers good enough for Quico? Even the Maisie wasn't that picky. What did kings and queens do when they needed to swaddle the bottoms of their toddlers? Cloth? Of course not, only poor people used cloth diapers. There was only one country left, and while there wasn't a whole lot of hope that it too wouldn't fail to meet expectations, Florinda was just about out of options. One last order was placed, this time from France.
And oh, what a difference it made!
It was plain to see how soft they were as soon as Florinda opened the first package. You could lay your head upon it and it felt just like a pillow. These diapers did everything. Quico wasn't waking up at night half as much, Florinda wasn't sure after a little while when the last time had been that he'd needed rash ointment, and he didn't even grow upset when wet like he used to. By the time he cried about it, it was likely that it was time to change him anyway.
But of course Florinda needed the world to know her son wore fancy French diapers, so while she couldn't quite send him outside pantless like she used to because the neighbors would definitely talk, she made a point of having an audience when it was time to unbox them.(She had to be careful, though. She'd accidentally ordered a subscription of the leaky Saudi diapers and didn't know enough Arabic to cancel it.) She bought Quico pants a size up so they would ride down and people could comment on how rich they must be to be able to afford those. She tucked them into the front pocket of his backpack when he went to school, sticking out prominently so it was obvious what they were and that they belonged to him.
By the fifty-fifth time Chilindrina ended a dispute by telling him to go get his diaper changed, Quico was seriously considering what the harm would be of taking his chances with the toilet monster.