QI recently discovered that my 14-year-old stepson, who lives with us full-time, has been stealing, wearing, soiling, and hiding his toddler sister’s pull-ups. I’ve found them after he hides them in his closet, which also serves as a general storage area. After discussions with him, I’m certain that wearing them is a pleasure thing for him. (He says “curiosity,” but this has been going on so long that he knows what it feels like.) He has even stolen some of the neighbor girl’s Baby Alive doll diapers to wear and soil. We’ve told him he has to stop stealing diapers—from our neighbor, because stealing is wrong, and from us, because these things are flippin’ expensive. We are pretty grossed out by it, despite being pretty open-minded people. I may be more grossed out by the prospect of piles of dirty diapers hidden somewhere in the house, but the thought of purposely peeing your pants isn’t pleasant, either. I believe we have a fetish growing here, and I don’t think a parent needs to be involved in it, but he’s stinking up the joint. —Parent Is Seriously Stumped
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“This may only be a case of ‘curiosity,’ just as his stepson says,” said Jesse Bering, PhD, a research psychologist and science writer who regularly contributes to Slate, Scientific American, and other publications. “Young teenagers can’t express their overwhelming urges easily. We provide no ‘socially appropriate’ sexual outlets for 14-year-olds, masturbation aside—which, let’s face it, can get monotonous. So his stepson may simply be exploring the available materials that he, ahem, comes across.”
Since it’s share time in group: I remember stealing panty hose when I was 14—I’ve never told anyone about this—and I enjoyed some exciting moments looking in a mirror while wearing them. Just as Bering didn’t grow up to be a pee-in-the-sink fetishist, I didn’t grow up to be a panty-hose-in-the-mirror fetishist. So while it’s probable that your stepson is a budding diaper fetishist, it’s also possible that he’s just horny and experimenting. That said . . .
QI’m a 19-year-old male college student. I lost two and a half fingers on my right hand in an accident when I was 13. I am otherwise good-looking and in shape—but what does that matter? A counselor once told me, “A true lady of class will love you for who you are.” I have never wanted to punch someone so hard. Bullshit. I don’t want to listen to politically correct “feel-good” crap. I’m disfigured, not stupid. Children fear me! And what sort of woman would look at me with desire when whole men can be found everywhere? Don’t tell me to go to counseling. I go to counseling. Do not give me the link to some useless “support” group’s website. What is there to do? How could I possibly approach a woman with confidence? —Don’t Insult My Intelligence
So get the fuck over yourself, get the fuck out of the house, and go meet women. If you’re worried that your right hand is the first thing a woman notices, get a prosthesis made or wear a glove. And while you may be tempted to blame your right hand for your lack of romantic success, DIMI, remember that very few people your age—people with ten intact fingers—have met with much romantic success.
