To pee, or not to pee, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the loins to suffer
The leaks and soiling of incontinent fortune,
Or to pad up against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To poo – to wet,
No more; and by wetting to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That wetting causes: ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To poo, to wet,
To wet, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub,
For in that diaper what dreams may cum,
When we have shuffled off this mortal need,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes wet diapers part of our life.