2011

I R Winner!

(Sub) Sandwich

Interesting chapter ...  It seems, that mecha Gojira will have to wait, as Sarah is already planning program for Greg ... 😅 She doesn't seem to me, that she is after his money (she honestly feels genuine to me), but time will tell ... really looking forward to their interactions ... I didn't realize it is only 2 days till the trial ... that will be also interesting ... especially with the whole shebang from wealthy wives ...  The ending is really ominous on a few levels ...  Firstly the brothers are currently quarrelling and the trope is, that is the best time to strike and separate them ... i do not think, that is probable, as they are close and will probably make up soon and there should be no immediate danger .. Secondly the hearing is really close and Abner is expecting emotional testimony from Greg, which might be a problem if he is still not talking with Charlie ...  And lastly the biggest problem i see is, that Charlie started this conversation, while Greg was preparing to communicate with Axiom ... and will probably return to it again ... and in the state he is in ... he will probably make another mistake ...  Also

If only recordings and proof of drugging made it to a specific grandfather...

Short description: A mother loses her maturity. Kitten's Cougar Part 1 It all started at the DMV. Lena’s daughter, Mira, had been nagging her mother about her expired license for the past month. The nagging was already humiliating enough; to be driven to your appointment by your daughter like you were the child was just the cherry on top. That wasn’t what set Lena down the path, though—it was the question at the counter. When the clerk asked if Lena had been driving without a license, Lena told the truth. That was what ruined her. Of course she had, she had a job! How was the state expecting her to work? They didn’t like her rationale, and they barred her from renewing until she could “prove” she was reformed—whatever that was supposed to mean! Mira didn’t like Lena’s excuse, either. Her daughter reminded her the responsible thing to do was to renew her license before it expired. Mira absolutely blew up at her mother when Lena suggested that she should have just lied. Lena’s face was absolutely beet red as she scrunched her skirt on the trip back home, her daughter’s eyes glued to the road. She felt like a kitten next to a cougar. Except, the kitten gave birth to the cougar. Most people got tripped up on that fact. They’d always ask if Mira was her “real” daughter. Lena hated the term, having had a foster brother herself; but she knew what they meant. Something must have stunted Lena’s growth, because while her daughter was normal-short, Lena was absolutely puny. Both her and her daughter would be carded, sure, but Lena was always carded as a joke—no way a little kid would even have an ID, right? Suffice to say, after a yelling match with an unrelenting—and frankly imposing Mira—Lena was relegated to being driven around; Mira’s arguments were too sound, too mature. Lena had no real rebuttal, other than an indignant stomp. Mira just folded her arms under her bosom, staring disapprovingly at her extra petite mom. Lena blushed, realizing she was looking up her daughter—up at the girl who she used to sling over her shoulder with ease. But those days were long gone. And even though Mira was exceptionally short, her mother was even more so. In any case, Mira would be going off to college soon, and they probably wouldn’t see each other as much…. Lena relented, getting distracted, shrinking an inch as her head fell in submission. Her daughter was right; this was a catastrophe of her own carelessness. She’d get her license back, eventually… surely…. Their routine settled, but it wasn’t pleasant. Mira started school a full hour before Lena began work, and the commute between the two meant that Lena had to be at the office long before anyone else. That wasn’t actually the annoying part; Lena was able to get her work done quite early, which meant she could go home as soon as her daughter got out of school. The annoying part was sitting there at the office, waiting, doing absolutely nothing. Ordinarily, she would’ve just went home early when she ran out of work. Her boss had sent some fidget toys, and while she didn’t need them to focus like some people seemingly did, they did help pass the time. Unfortunately, playing with a slinky only worked for a grand total of twenty hours before she explored every surface to let it waterfall from. She even tried using it in the stairwell once or twice. It was fun, of course, but after she mastered it, it became a little to predictable. The other toys suffered the same fate, not being nearly as entertaining. Her boredom wasn’t helped by the fact that she was the only one in her department—and on her floor. Well, perhaps “floor” was a bit too strong of a word. She was tucked away at the edge of the lowest sub-basement level; her room a concrete box with sprawling wires. She worked on all the machines that not even the IT crowd could fix. The job suited her. She chalked her techie-ness to a few factors; one was that she was decidedly not a people person. She told herself this was because her underdeveloped stature always garnered her awkward sympathy or dismissal…. In reality, it was probably due to her underdeveloped personality. In any case, the other aspect that drew her to the field was the anonymity it provided. Over the wire, she could be anyone she wanted to be—even a seven foot tall goddess worshiped by an army of beautiful, tiny men. Mira’s late father had tried to help Lena live out these fantasies of hers, but her smallness always seeped through, contaminating the fetish-fueled foreplay; even though he was similarly sized, the scale of their surroundings was enough to ruin it. Lena’s anonymity seemed to transfer to her job as well. She had never met her boss, and being so far out of the way meant that she’d only met a handful of people in the whole seventy story building. Each day, the computers were dropped off outside her office door; each day, she placed the fixed machines back where she found them; each day, she entered and exited through the tunnels to a convenient parking-spot-turned-pick-up-location. She wasn’t trying to be unseen… but she also wasn’t trying to be seen. Hence why her profile picture on the company chat app was still blank, and why she always vehemently rejected proposals for moving offices. She liked how things were. Well, she did until she ran out of fidget toys. She asked her boss if there was any extra work to do. Surprisingly, her boss did have a job for her in the form of helping out at the office daycare. Lena hadn’t been there since Mira was enrolled, but she remembered the pastel cartoons lining the walls, and the nice little vista out into the bluish city. The room wasn’t big, but it was complete as far as childcare went. It had a section for infants as well as toddlers and even children as old as eleven for when school was out of session. The lady Lena remembered from Mira’s days had retired, apparently. Which was quite unfortunate, because Lena had a very difficult time explaining to the new lady, Miss Good, that she was there to help with the computers. It didn’t help that Miss Good was a giant, making Lena feel entirely like the child Miss Good thought she was. Miss Good just bent down, hands-on-knees, smirking at the little woman; each “uh huh” and “mhm” was laced with face-reddening condescension. Lena still couldn’t tell if Miss Good believed her even after she showed her badge and brought up the chat logs with her boss; but Miss Good had to of, right? Otherwise, she wouldn’t have let Lena sniff around on the ancient intake systems. Sure, maybe the woman was constantly smiling over her shoulder at Lena as the techie stuck out her tongue in concentration, browsing files to discover the problem… but that was probably about something unrelated. Several of the children asked Lena what she was doing—if she was a child like them—but she payed them no attention. She hadn’t interacted with a little kid in so long, she had forgotten what the proper etiquette was. Not that it mattered, because after a few attempts, Miss Good seemed to finally get the memo and tell the children to be quiet while Lena was “working on her little project.” Something about the words irked Lena, but she wasn’t sure what. Lena didn’t realize so much time had passed when Mira just… walked in to the daycare. Mira chewed her ear off, telling her to check her phone and to not lose track of time like a little kid—a comment that made Miss Good hide her chuckle. It really didn’t help that the intake desk’s office chair was broken, permanently stuck on the lowest setting, and Lena had to sit on a pillow like a makeshift booster seat. It also really didn’t help that Lena had fallen down a wiki rabbit hole and was decidedly not working, but no one had to know that part. And it really didn’t help that Miss Good asked if Mira was there to “sign Lena out.” It made Lena defensive, but the two taller ladies just laughed it off. That was the start of Lena’s daycare project. Upgrading the systems in the daycare was actually going to be more time consuming than anyone had realized, especially with only an hour or two a day to work on it; she told her boss, but he let her proceed on the project anyway. She was surprised at the allowance, but savored it—she could make sweet, sweet overtime. The reward felt overdue. Unfortunately, the working conditions weren’t perfect. The building’s quizzical geometry meant that Lena’s phone couldn’t get proper signal—she tried to tell her daughter, but Mira took some convincing; her mother could be so scatterbrained, after all. They tried to set up a time to meet in the garage, but Mira’s schedule was too chaotic; it left Lena missing out on cold hard cash, being replaced with cold toes as she waited in the unheated garage. Mira begrudgingly suggested that she herself go into the building to gather her mother. Lena thought it was a win... until she realized that Mira and Miss Good would make the same “signing her out” joke every single day. It took a while, but she became numb it it... so numb it almost wrapped around to being funny. That was her schedule: wake up, get dropped off at work, do her normal job, head to the daycare, get fetched from daycare, dinner, sleep, repeat. Dinner became an interesting affair. Lena had always gone for smaller furniture. But recently, Mira, having hit yet another growth spurt, was getting fed up with the circus-colored tiny table and cherubic chairs. Lena parried Mira’s complaints with a simple “if you don’t like it, find a new one!” Perhaps it was the wrong choice of words, because Mira already had a table and chairs lined up; they were totally free, too. Lena didn’t have a retort to that. She could see how her daughter had to hunch over the table, how the angle her knees made was a little too acute to fit in—like the table Lena had bought and had been using since Mira was just a twinkle in her eye was a child’s table—like Lena had been using a child’s table her whole adult life. It wasn’t a child’s table, Lena knew. That would have been shorter yet. She knew because she saw them everyday at the daycare, and when Miss Good sat with the children, she looked even more contorted than Mira. But it was similar enough to make her feel insecure. Lena relented, and as she followed her daughter out to the car after daycare, she saw the hatch tied down with rope to hold in the new kitchen set. At home, the short kitchen table was moved to Lena’s bare-bones study, pushed up into a corner along with the tiny chairs. The circus-colored table looked out of place in the drab study, and Lena frowned. It looked especially strange compared to the average-height desk in the opposite corner; there was a reason she didn’t use the space much. Her daughter used it to do homework because she didn’t have her own desk. Lena hated the fact that her feet didn’t sit flat on the ground anymore with the new chairs; she especially hated the fact that she needed a pillow to be at the correct hight with the table. And she absolutely loathed the fact that Mira, after seeing her struggle to stay upright on throw pillow, got her a “special” one… that Lena was pretty sure was just a child’s booster seat. She couldn’t prove it, but she’d seen plenty in her day. She hated the indignity, but she couldn’t deny the practicality. It didn’t have any straps, anyway, and it was a plain beige that made it look like a simple cushion. But anyone that happened to use it would instantly realize that it was less padded than it let on. And for Lena, if she was “properly” situated, it meant her feet could no longer touch the ground… a fate worse than death. Lena wasn’t done seething about seating. On their way to work one morning, Mira saw red and blue flashing in her mirror. She was confused why they wanted her; she was going the speed limit and was driving as straight as an arrow. She quickly found out when the officer came up to her window. Lena tried to command the situation from the passenger seat, but the officer ignored her. He told Mira about the expired tags—and then proceeded to find everything else wrong he could after Mira acted uncharacteristically fiery: a cracked windshield, malfunctioning taillight, and, most humiliatingly, an unsecured child. Lena and Mira tried to reason with him over the last point: Lena wasn’t a child, she was Mira’s mother. Thankfully, after some fumbling through her little purse, the officer acknowledged Lena’s expired license. But it didn’t matter, because the law didn’t reference age, only height. Lena wasn’t even close, and she didn’t get the driver exemption anymore. Mira told their sob-story as best as she could. Lena felt her heart thumping as the officer handed them the citations anyway—it was all just warnings, the officer having unexpectedly taken pity on them. It didn’t soothe Mira. After they drove off, she was absolutely furious with her mother for letting the registration lapse and the car fall into disrepair. Mira snarked, asking Lena if she needed her child to take care of it, but... her mother didn’t respond. All she could do was stare at her lap, her fists balled up with her skirt. Mira ended up handling the registration and repairs—using Lena’s paycheck, of course. Not that it was particularly big expense for the techie. That only made it look worse for Lena, because Mira could tell her inability to handle the basic maintenance was solely due to Lena’s immaturity. Lena shuffled in her booster seat as they discussed it over a dinner of frozen lasagna, Lena too exhausted to make anything else. The subject changed to her “security” in the car; the officer’s citation hanging in the air like the spray of an exterminator. Lena tried to reason with Mira, begging the girl to drop it. Mira just shook her head, exasperated with her helpless mother. In the end, sick and twisted reason won out, and they’d buy a… car seat the following day after work. Miss Good’s “signing out” joke stung particularly hard that next day. Lena wanted to throw up as they browsed the selection of car seats. Apparently, the location they went to only sold convertible seats; Lena knew there was no real difference—that she’d instantly convert it to the “bigger” version immediately—that it would be just as degrading to sit in one, convertible or not. But the implication that she could be… “rear facing,” unable to even see the back of her daughter’s head was making her skin crawl. She was an adult! She told her daughter as much as Mira tried to decide on a brand. But Mira just bared her teeth, pissed that her mother was making a scene in the grocery store as a disapproving grandfather glanced at them. Mira was well aware of how she looked, throwing down her fists, on the verge of tears. “Don’t you know how humiliating it is to be a grown woman sitting in a car seat?!” she tried. She cried. Mira softened upon seeing her mother’s breakdown. She didn’t want to ruin her mother’s life, she explained; she was just worried about them getting into real trouble. It was comforting, even as Mira bent at the hip to meet her mother’s gaze and put her hand on her shoulder. Eventually, like with everything else before, Lena relented. She tried to choose the most plain, least conspicuous thing on display, but they were out of stock. They were out of stock of the second least, too… and then the third. That left Lena with a black and pink convertible seat with little white flowers decorating headrest(s). They installed it immediately. Lena was relieved to see her daughter take away the inner seat and store it in the trunk; she was not relieved to see the outer one tied down to the middle seat in the back. Lena felt dead inside as she climbed up into the thing, sinking back into it, feeling utterly helpless. She’d have to gymastics her way out… and that was before the harness was buckled. The buckle might of well have been a Rubik’s Cube. Lena wanted to cry as she tried to pull the clavicle and crotch straps together. She did cry—just a little bit—when Mira seemed to do it with ease. It didn’t help that Mira told her she’d “get the hang of it.” That’s when the real waterworks started. Mira didn’t know what to say, and drove home. Lena just stared at herself in the rear-view mirror, firmly secured in her new toddler seat, cheeks streaked with salt. At least it had cup holders. Much like being “signed out of daycare” and using a booster seat at dinner, Lena eventually became numb to the infantile car seat. She just sat there, strapped in every morning and every evening, scrolling on her phone while her daughter listened to the news on the radio. Sometimes, Mira would ask her about dinner, but the strapped-up woman would just mumble something about canned spaghetti. Mira eventually got fed up eating garbage, and decided to make a change; she’d make the grocery lists… and the meals. Lena was hardly even embarrassed. It was no secret that she hated cooking, and it was never easy with her size, always needing to bring out the step-stool—so when Mira stole the job from her just let it happen. It became common for Mira to yell “Dinner’s ready!” and to hear Lena wandering—or if she was hungry, even scurrying—in, her socks slipping on the tile. At work, Lena’s daycare project was starting to slow down. Most of her time was being spent waiting on downloads hindered by the poor reception. She’d often find herself staring off into space or watching the children play. On one particularly slow day, she saw Miss Good getting ready for story time. It was one of Lena’s favorite books as a child: Where the Wild Things Are. She put her chin on her forearm, staring past the monitor with it’s blinking progress bar. Miss Good caught her. “Oh, Lena, would you like to hear the story, too?” All of the children’s eyes went wide with wonder. An adult, they must have thought, wanting to join in story time? Of course, why not?! Story time was great! Many of the children gave toothy smiles at the little woman. Mira was all blush. She tried to protest, but Miss Good asked if she was working, and Lena couldn’t lie. Miss Good simply smirked as Lena, yet again, relented, and fidgeted over. Miss Good told her to take her heels off at the cubbies, and Lena’s gut clenched as she felt herself loose a few too many inches for her liking. She shuffled over to the carpet and sat down, knees to her chest. She forgot her worries as soon as Miss Good uttered the first sentence, looking around the group of toddlers for understanding. The entire daycare was only a handful of preschoolers that day, aside from the baby sleeping in the adjacent room. Lena hated how easily she slipped in to it. After Miss Good spoke “The End”, there was a knock on the open door: it was Mira. Lena stood up, her knees wobbly. How much had her daughter seen?! Not much, but enough. Mira’s grin was wide and taunting as she announced she was there to “sign her out.” Lena just marched out of the room in front of Mira, humiliated, throwing a command to Miss Good to not touch the computer till the next morning. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mira asked, hands on her hips, her grin replaced with a smirk. Lena froze, her hackles standing on end, and stopped in her tracks. She could feel it, now that Mira mentioned it; the soles of her feet were quickly cooling through her peach tights. She turned around, face staring at the perfect, sterile tile of the hallway. She couldn’t bare to look at her towering daughter as she retrieved her heels from the cubby. Miss Good giggled at her as she came back. It made her feel whole when she regained the height, but she still silently followed Mira through the building. Lena still stayed silent as Mira buckled her into her pink car seat, and even still as she scrambled up into her booster at dinner. Mira tried to chitchat about her day at school, but Lena couldn’t listen, opting instead to shuffle around in her booster seat, weakly kicking her hanging feet. The butterflies were so strong she could barely even eat. Lena found herself with downtime at daycare more and more; and with that downtime, Miss Good sought to occupy her. It started with the story times, of which Lena missed none. Then, it escalated to group arts and crafts. The straw that truly broke the camel’s back was a game of duck-duck-go, followed by a round of musical chairs in which Lena was far too competitive. Miss Good had to remind her that “Lena, it’s just a game.” Lena sulked until pick-up. An unusually slow month in the dungeon meant more time in the daycare; before noon, she was up top working on her little project. But when Lena’s project required an out-of-stock part, she was left just… waiting, every day. The artifice of starting a download on the check-in computer was nixed, replaced with the ritual of taking off her shoes (and badge, after an incident a few days prior), storing them in “her” cubby, and running over to the play area where Miss Good would direct her to a lonely toddler in need of a playmate. Of course, Miss Good never used those words; she didn’t want to humiliate the little woman, after all… but she definitely considered Lena to be a playmate. That first day, Miss Good truly was skeptical of Lena’s age. It was silly in hindsight; the woman had been so articulate, had a smartphone, and even a security badge with her name and face on it. But Lena’s little doe-eyes, her high voice, and her tiny stature confused Miss Good’s brain’s maternal lobe. Of course, she realized her mistake by the next day. But, Miss Good wondered, what if it wasn’t a total mistake? Sure, Lena wasn’t a child, but she always seemed so high strung… maybe some relaxation would do her well. Miss Good herself sometimes envied childish abandon; maybe she could give a little bit of it to Lena. So, seeing as the woman was spending more and more time in the daycare, and seeing as more and more of said time was freeing up, she decided to start encouraging the little lady. All the other children seemed to love her, so it wasn’t very difficult for her to fit in. Story time, games, and crafts were easy to involve her in; the hard part was everything else. But Miss Good decided to shoot her shot one day: “Lena, do you want a coloring book?” Lena, of course, tried to shoot her down, her cheeks hot. But she was just sitting at her desk, tapping on the Formica, so she didn’t have a good excuse. “These things are getting popular with adults, I hear,” Miss Good tried. It was the best kind of lie: the truth… twisted to a devious end. Not that it was devious to help someone relax! The overarching theme here is Lena relenting, time and time again. Of course she danced over to the little table next to a little boy, because she always relented. How could she not, when everyone was so rational? The boy’s name was Jeffery. Lena actually found Jeffery to be quite sweet, and even though his coloring skills were… not all there, Lena didn’t mind. The kid almost reminded Lena of Mira’s father; it was almost comforting. Almost. She was sure she spent a solid two hours a day with him under the watchful eye of Miss Good, scribbling away. Lena did not like Lainey. Miss Good tried to pair them up for dolls one time, but the girl was an absolute menace. For whatever toddler reason, Lainey hated the fact that Lena had a similar name. She really really hated the fact that Miss Good would sometimes mix up their names, causing Lainey to be relegated to stupid dumb Lena for a microsecond before Miss Good corrected herself. Lainey took it personally, and loved flipping her nemesis’s skirt, flashing the class with Lena’s… very normal white cotton panties. It still made Lena self-conscious when Lainey pointed and fake-laughed. No one else found it particularly funny, and obviously that landed Lainey in trouble, earning her a time out in the corner not next to the beautiful skyscraper window. It didn’t stop Lena from debating wearing slacks instead of skirts to work. But she decided that she wouldn’t let a little girl dictate her life, so she kept at the skirts. Eventually, Lainey stopped skirt flipping, having learned less incrimidating ways of annoying Lena. Like tripping her. Miss Good trusted Lena when she tattled on Lainey, but it was difficult to deal with the younger girl. The punishments seemed to only work at making the sabotage less detectable, not less prevalent. Luckily, dealing with Lainey was only a small part of daycare, and it didn’t spoil her fun too much. Everyone else’s kindness easily made up for the annoyance that Lainey caused, especially Jeffrey. Plus, falling on the soft foam and carpet of the daycare didn’t hurt very much, even as an adult. Going to daycare earlier and earlier, Lena found herself involved in more and more activities. The first that she managed to get involved in was nap time. Lena always crashed midday at work, but her pride made her resist the temptation. Ordinarily, she’d grab a coffee. It didn’t actually make her more alert, but it did prevent her from sleeping. However, in daycare, Miss Good made a fuss about the hot drink, worrying about spills and grabby hands—sugar rushes were bad enough as is, she said, she didn’t need a curious, caffeinated toddler. Obviously, she was still allowed to drink the stuff—just not while she was with Miss Good. Miss Good still let her click-clack away on her keyboard when the blinds were closed, lights were off, and children were down; but the keyboard was always too loud for the attendant’s liking, and Miss Good hushed her so many times she just gave up. Sometimes, she’d step out and do her trek the subbasements to have a quarter of a cup of coffee—until nap time ended, and she’d head back. Sometimes, she’d just put her ear down on her forearm and stare out the window, her eyes getting heavier and heavier… until Miss good would give her a little nudge and silently offer her a conveniently placed cot. She tried to refuse the first time, but Miss good just slowly slid her forward off the pillowed office chair and held a hand to her back to bring her over. Then Miss Good would lay her down, fingers guiding her like marionette. She’d take off Lena’s shoes and lanyard, pull up a blanket, and scoot a strand of hair behind her ear. Lena would always drift off, her breaths becoming deeper and deeper as a strand of drool dribbled out of her gaping mouth. She’d always wake up, too well rested, dancing as her bladder ached as she waited for her turn on the potty—every time, Miss Good would have to remind her she was perfectly capable of using the bathroom down the hall. Miss Good would always have to wipe her face and tell her to hold her horses, that Lena needed to put her shoes on if she wanted to walk around outside. The other activity that Lena found herself present for was lunchtime. The first few times, she politely rejected the carrots and PB&J. That changed when she forgot her own lunch in the car, receiving a disappointed text from her daughter. Lena could have went out to a restaurant, but it barely took any convincing from Miss Good to stay. She just plopped down next to Jeffery and traded long baby carrots for fat ones, debating over which one was bigger. Lena genuinely had no idea, stumped by her peer. Lainey just stuck her tongue out from across the table before being reprimanded by Miss Good. When Lena mentioned offhandedly about garnering her daughter’s ire, it gave Miss Good an idea. At pickup, Miss Good told Mira all about her mother’s lunchtime, and to not worry if there was ever another misplaced baggy. Mira just held her hand over her heart and gave some soft gratitude, looking down at Lena to see if she heard. Of course Lena did! Her crimson cheeks gave that away. Breakfast at daycare was a much more muted affair, just being a small snack since most of the parents fed their children before work. Right before breakfast, however, was drop off. It was surreal to be the first “kid” in the room, waiting patiently at a table, coloring, kicking her feet as Miss Good tidied up and prepared the snacks. Then the other kids started to show up. Lena would always turn to stare at the door, waiting to see who it was. Two two-year-old's and three three-year-old’s came in before finally: Jeffrey! Lena stood up and greeted him a little too enthusiastically. His father looked down at her in amusement. “Who’s your friend, kiddo?” “Lena! Not Lainey,” Jeffrey said. “Are we going to draw pictures today? I want to draw a picture of the city with an airplane and a firetruck.” Lena nodded. She realized at that moment how strange she must have looked in her work clothes and lightly painted visage… paired with her child-like stature, attending the daycare. Her flushed face betrayed her feelings, but Jeffrey’s father apparently took it in stride. “Makeup? At her age? They’re starting pretty young now, aren’t they?” he joked with Miss Good. Miss Good brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh...” she said. She hadn’t considered how she’d ever explain why there was an adult loafing around at daycare…. Lena couldn’t let it stand, though. She didn’t want to become a new story about a creep hanging around a daycare. She was truly innocent! She was just here to fix the computers. “Uhm. A-actually, I’m with the IT department, here to fix the computers. But sometimes, I play with Jeffrey?” The sweat on her back was like Niagara Falls. She adjusted her skirt and played with a strand of hair, coughing. “Yes, she’s been assisting me up here on her breaks. She’s such a good helper,” Miss Good beamed at Lena. She marched over and rubbed the little woman’s back. Lena nodded, unable to meet Jeffrey’s father’s gaze. Jeffrey’s father, a man with a 5 o’clock (AM) shadow and the same, tired eyes as Jeffrey, raised his brow and shrugged. “Ah. Apologies, Miss. I thought it was only Sharon here.” He didn’t say that Lena looked like a toddler, but everyone knew what he meant. He left, and Lena, jittery, went to sit with Jeffrey. That whole day, she couldn’t stop fidgeting. She didn’t like how easy it was Jeffrey’s father to mistake her for a child. Part of her wished that she’d never run over to the boy in the first place; his father would have likely assumed she was a child, anyway, but that would have been his fault. As it stood, she wasn’t doing any favors for herself by running at the boy like a lost puppy—puppy, a baby dog, being the key word. Lena would end up following through with that. The final thing that Lena got to experience was pickup. Ordinarily, her daughter would be there before any of the parents; but sometimes, an extracurricular or a grocery trip would go over, leaving Lena loitering as she lost her friends, one by one. She was left alone, kicking her feet, swirling around in the pillowed office chair. “Miss Good,” she asked offhandedly. The name seemed more natural than “Sharon,” barely ever hearing it. Now that she thought about it, Lena wondered what she’d been calling Miss Good this entire time. “Is it weird that I’m here?” Miss Good, bending down to pick up a discarded doll, stood up and fixed her dyed blond bob. “Not at all. Why do you ask?” “Really? I mean… I’m an adult, right?” Lena said, stopping her rotation. “Yes, but so am I. You don’t think it’s weird for me to be here, do you?” Miss Good asked. She brought the hand holding the doll to her hip. “No. Of course not. But you work here. I mean, I technically do, but yesterday I didn’t even do any work. I just… played here all day.” Lena said, staring at the fading light of the city. The building opposite to them created a blinding reflection when the sun was at the perfect position. Lena had to shield her eyes. “You do work, whether you know it or not,” Miss Good said, sighing. “You help out with the children more than you realize. You’re a very stabilizing force. Before you were here, it was absolute chaos!” Miss Good giggled. “Just kidding… but not. Just you being here, letting me step out for a moment every once in a while… it’s perfect! I’ve been asking for another attendant for ages, but HR says we don’t have enough parents using the service to justify it.” Miss Good soured. “Oh. I know that feeling!” Lena says, gripping the edge of the desk. “Last year when I was swamped, I kept asking for an assistant or an intern or something! But all they wanted to offer me was to move my office. Like, what? Come on!” She giggled too, her voice higher than she’d have liked. Miss Good laughed in earnest. “At least it’s settled down now, right?” Lena agreed. Though, she noted, it would pick up again all the same during peak season. Eventually, Mira showed up, made the “sign out joke”, and they were ready to go. There was one problem, however. “Uh, Miss Good, my shoes are missing,” Lena said, frantic. Her lanyard was still there, thankfully. Mira tsk’d, annoyed. “Mom, how did you lose your shoes?” Mira knew her mother was a little ditsy, but this seemed like a new low. “I don’t know! I took them off and put them there when I got here,” Lena said. She wracked her brain, and wandered around the desk where she’d been sitting—but no cigar. Miss Good suggested that perhaps a child had hid them, putting her hand to her own cheek in concern. But Lena wasn’t taking it. She stomped her foot in indignation. Those were designer shoes! They were one of the only nice things Lena owned! Mira and Miss Good both felt her pain, and helped her scour the room. They came up empty handed. “I can’t walk all the way down there without shoes!” Lena protested. Miss Good and Mira shared something resembling a psychic connection. “Well,” Mira said. “Maybe you don’t have to walk the whole way,” Miss Good said. “I can carry you, I’ve been training in gym,” Mira finalized. They gym comment was made merely to satiate her mother; in reality, the average, unathletic woman could easily lift Lena. Lena said no, absolutely not… but when she saw the impatient look on everyone’s faces, she relented—no no no! She didn’t. She had a much more sensible and much less degrading solution. “I can just walk. I’m wearing tights.” Mira and Miss Good shared a concerned glance, but sighed. If that was how Lena wanted it, they were forced to oblige. And it almost worked out. The walk back to the car was long, yes, but it was mostly indoors, and the janitors at the office did wonderful work. It was unpleasant walking on tile, knowing she was dirtying her tights to a possibly unrecoverable state, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation of being… carried? By her own daughter?! The office didn’t last long, and eventually they were forced to confront the tunnel to the parking garage. It all seemed like standard, gum-splattered concrete until they came upon a puddle of broken green glass. Lena froze, and Mira cringed. “Want me to carry you over it?” Lena wanted desperately to say no—to say that she could walk through it—but she knew that was a lie. She simply said nothing and crumpled her skirt. Mira took it as a sign, and slithered her hands into Lena’s armpits. Lena went limp as her daughter hoisted her up, quickly sliding a hand under the woman’s butt. Lena just rested her downtrodden cheek on Mira’s shoulder. Mira adjusted her grip, pulling her mother higher and closer, and the glass crunched under Mira’s feet as she made her way to the car. Without letting her down first, Mira opened the door and placed her inside. Lena crawled the rest of the way into her seat and let Lena buckle her in. When they got home, it didn’t end; Mira unbuckled her and carried her all the way inside, waiting till Mira kicked the door closed behind her to set her mother down. Lena was properly humiliated, and didn’t speak to her daughter the rest of the night. The next day, Lena was forced to wear tennis shoes. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t a big deal… but she needed her heels. Without them, she felt so short. It didn’t affect her as much at daycare, because Miss Good wasn’t exactly a WNBA player herself, and the only other people in the room were children. But just walking through the building to daycare was excruciating. The stares of everyone wondering who “this lost child” was, before they saw her lanyard and decided to pity her instead. She was relieved to see Miss Good, and kicked off her shoes with a little too much force before running up to the woman. She wanted to—no, what was she thinking? That wasn’t professional at— Miss Good didn’t give a rat’s behind about professionalism, apparently. She just wrapped the little woman in a hug. Lena realized she’d never been this close to the attendant, and found her to smell like baby powder and cookies. She buried her head to savor it. Lena broke the hug first, apologizing. Miss Good told her there was nothing to apologize for—that everyone deserved a hug. Miss Good asked her what was wrong—and Lena told her; she said she knew it was stupid, that shoes didn’t define her, but that she felt so vulnerable without them. Miss Good understood. She rubbed Lena’s back, telling her it wasn’t stupid—that she should get new, even prettier ones! Lena smiled and thanked her, before sitting down by an vaguely aware Jeffrey who made a comment about Miss Good’s good hugs. Lena never did get new shoes. She just got used to the judgment of others. Mira would have said something… but she didn’t really understand the duress her mother was under, and didn’t consider it vital. The woman already had ten pairs of shoes—sure, most were too well worn and none were heels, but the point was she didn’t need more stuff. Days blurred together. Some days, Lena would have a modicum of work to do in the dungeon, but most days were spent in entirely in daycare. The parts eventually came, but then she needed more parts, and more downloads… it seemed like it would never end. That didn’t really bother Lena… some days, though she’d never admit it to her boss, she would sabotage the download in subtle ways. Just small things, like trying to load multiple things at once, causing an “unavoidable” network failure. Or she’d “forget” to tell Miss Good to leave the computer running over night, and come back the next day with an exaggerated exasperation. Miss Good was catching on, too. Sometimes she’d need to plug her phone in… and “accidentally” unplug the wrong machine for it. “Goodness, I’m so sorry, Lena! I suppose there’s not much you can do for the rest of the day, hm?” And of course Lena would nod with a faux frown, marching over to her cot for nap time. After nap time one day, Miss Good needed to step out for a call, and left Lena in charge. She’d done similar things on many occasions, and Lena never thought anything of it. The children were usually well-behaved enough that no action was required. And when it was, Lena would just run and tell Miss Good. Lainey, the ever scheming, had an idea. Still annoyed by a misnaming that morning, she walked up behind Lena and started tickling. “Jeffrey,” she said, biting her lip as Lena yelled stop, “help me tickle Lena!” Jeffrey was a nice child, yes, but he also didn’t understand the difference yet between forced laughter and the real deal. He grinned, turning to Lena who was struggling against the table, and went for it. “Guys, help me tickle Lena!” Lainey said, turning to the rest of the toddlers. They all looked up, excited to be included by an older kid, and stumbled their way over to Lena who found herself rolling on the floor, convulsing. Each extra hand was stiff and barely triggered her tickle nerves—but all together, it created inescapable prison of uncomfortable laughter. “Stop! I’m gonna pee!” “Nuh uh! Big girls don’t pee their panties,” Lainey mocked, only going in harder, invading her armpits and conquering her lower back. Lena was telling the truth. Her bladder gave way, she made quick work of her panties and tights; it flowed down between her thighs and spread out on her butt before reaching it’s final destination on the foam tile floor. Lena wasn’t sure if she could assign morality to the fact that the foam was waterproof, meaning she ended up sitting in a small puddle. No item of clothing was spared, each sporting a dark stain sure to yellow as it dried. Lena cried. Bawled, even. Snot poured down her cheeks as all the children sans Lainey stared in disbelief. “Wow, some big girl you are! You peed your pants!” This obviously only made it worse. Lena’s mascara and concealer smeared as a frazzled Miss Good hurried back in and sat down beside the girl. “Goodness, Lena! What happened?” Lena tried explaining that it was all Lainey’s fault, that she said she had to go pee, but that no one listened! Miss Good believed her, and sent Lainey to timeout “until I say you can come out.” It was the harshest punishment Lena had ever seen the woman levy. Miss Good reached under Lena’s armpits and pulled her into a standing position. Lena could feel a few residual drops of pee run down her tights before soaking in. “Children, I expect you all to be on your best behavior while I help Lena. Do you all understand?” Everyone nodded, even the children who probably didn’t understand. Lena hated the fact that she was dragging Miss Good away from her job, putting it at risk. They went around the corner to the nursery. The daycare’s only baby slept soundly, unaware of the commotion on the other side of the wall. Miss Good squatted to be at eye level with Lena. Lena wiped some snot on her own hand, looking away. “Sweetie,” Miss Good said, petting the side of Lena’s head. She had never used a pet name on the woman, even before she believed her to be an adult. “I don’t have many clothes here, and certainly no underwear…. I’ll try to scrounge up some things, okay?” Lena watched as Miss Good rifled through cabinets, collecting a single item from each one. She hated the last item: a Pull-Up, sporting the face of Cinderella. Miss Good cringed when she saw it, and desperately looked for a more plain one. Alas, she brought it back to her charge. In all, Miss Good had gathered a pink skirt, a blue blouse, some pink frilled socks… and a diaper. Miss Good tried to tell her that it wasn’t because of the accident—anyone would have had one in that scenario!—that it was merely because there weren’t any underwear or pants. And that, really, they weren’t diapers, and even if they were, adults wore diapers, too. Miss Good tried to be kind about it, but just ended up waffling on about the circumstances before stopping herself to offer Lena help cleaning up. She had just lost all her dignity, yes, but she still had plenty of dignity left! She said no. Lena went to the little girl’s room and got to work. She appreciated that the seats were low and had a lid she could sit on, but the grey tiles felt a little too waxy. She peeled everything off, balling it up and throwing it on the floor; she hated the yellow fans on the front and back of her white panties. Then she wiped herself clean with baby wipes… and put on the Pull-Up. It was the most harrowing experience of her adult life; if you thought being picked up from daycare by her daughter was bad, try being picked up… in a diaper. Tears tugged at Lena as she imagined it. Surprisingly, leaving the bathroom wasn’t too hard. The Pull-Ups crinkled, of course, but it was comparable to a cheap sanitary napkin. Lena tried to ignore the stares of the children as she went back to the playroom. How in the world was she going to explain this to her daughter? Her mother, wearing training pants and frilly socks! The scandal! Jeffrey didn’t say anything as she sat down. He just set her up with a sheet of paper and a few colored pencils he thought looked cool. Lena squirmed in her seat, the full padding feeling foreign; but she did draw. It was quite funny, actually—she had been using all her time at daycare to practice, and she was becoming quite passable indeed. She had even discovered perspective by studying buildings out the window. She was starting to forget about the whole ordeal when Mira showed up. Lena didn’t want to explain, so she was relieved when Miss Good seemed to do so for her. “She’s a little bit frazzled, still. Be gentle. Here’s the wet clothes,” Miss Good whispered. Lena couldn’t hear. She didn’t want to know how her colleague was humiliating her. Mira nodded and had some more concerned questions, but Miss Good assured her there was nothing to worry about; that, like she told Lena, anyone in the little woman’s position would have let go. Tickling was serious business, after all. Mira accepted it all with a hesitant smile and wave to her mother. “Time to go,” she said. Lena noticed that she didn’t call her “Mom” like usual, but she didn’t want to think too deeply about it. Luckily, her sneakers and lanyard were fine, and she lead her daughter out of the building. Mira noticed the crinkle of her mother’s Pull-Up; she’d never say anything—you’d have to be a psycho to mention it—but she did find it… cute? Was it right to call her mother’s infantilization cute? Was it right to want to snatch her up and hold her like the day she forgot her shoes? Mira wondered how the weight of her mother’s padded posterior would feel in her hands. For once, she was the one blushing. This was her mom, darn it! It didn’t matter that she had a car seat and went to daycare… and was now wearing training pants. It didn’t matter… that she looked like a toddler. She was still the breadwinner. And she was going to daycare for work, not to be looked after. Her mother had raised her, and had done well. Well… well enough. Mira knew she wasn’t the norm; if most kids were in her shoes, they probably wouldn’t be so well off. Mira just wanted her brain to shut up and focus on the road. Instead, she peeked in the rear view mirror. Lena’s bangs framed her face as she was hypnotized by her phone, slack-jawed, a bead of drool at the corner of her mouth. Her skirt had ridden up from the car seat’s crotch strap, revealing Cinderella’s blue dress on the Pull-Up. Mira melted at the sight. She had to focus on the road. She shifted the mirror up so she could only see the top of Lena’s head. There! Out of sight, out of mind. Her mother had a hard day. Maybe Mira would make something tasty for them both. Mira was disappointed when Lena took the diaper off at home. She could tell the woman was back in cotton when she hopped up into her booster, but Mira hid her feelings. Mira tried to discuss the day, but Lena shut her down. Lena didn’t want to ruminate. As far as she was concerned, the whole thing was over with. She’d return the clothes tomorrow, but she didn’t need any reminders about her helpless at the mercy of a gaggle of toddlers. The next day, everyone forgot about the incident… save Lainey, who made a point to tease Lena every chance she got, calling her a “baby” and a “fake big girl.” The latter got to Lena. She elected to not participate for that reason, instead spending her time working on the intake machine. Speaking of which… it was finally ready for testing! They were in the home stretch—Lena and Miss Good just needed to report all the kinks to the coders, and they’d be set. Lena excitedly gave Miss Good a tour of the new system, and the latter clapped at it’s simplicity. Then Miss Good suggested a stress-test: try signing in an unregistered charge. Lena shrugged and handed her the tablet. She watched as Miss Good tapped away. Finally, Miss Good smirked. “Uh oh, seems like we have an issue, I tried signing someone in that I shouldn’t be able to, but…” she said, handing over the tablet to Lena. Lena stared at the name: “Lena Lilian,” her name. She looked at Miss Good, her expression betraying betrayal. “Sorry,” Miss Good lamented, “I was just testing it. But it looks like you’ll have some issues to work out, yes?” Lena groaned, rolling her eyes. She went back to the office chair and hopped up, head in hand. Miss Good smiled. She was… relieved that Lena… still had work to do! Yes! She didn’t want the woman to stay in daycare, no way. She just wanted to provide Lena some temporary stress relief, not a permanent placement! That day, as Mira entered, Miss Good had a request. “Mira, we’re testing the new system. Could you try signing out Lena for me?” Mira taken aback—how was her mother in the system? Lena didn’t explain out of embarrassment; she wanted to claim this stemmed from her failure in setting up the system, but really it was the more obvious option. Miss Good elaborated in her stead. Len didn’t protest; she actually did want to see what would happen if Mira tried signing out an invalid record, she just wish it wasn’t her name in the daycare records. The annoying part was that it worked without error; the record read “Lena Gilian – Checked out 3:46PM by Mira Griswald.” Lena felt indignified, but what could see say? The faulty system was on her—Miss Good expected the system to work first try, which was a sign of trust. Lena noticed that Miss Good hadn’t made a joke about it… which made sense, because “signing out” of daycare was no longer completely farcical. Lena spent countless hours trying to overwrite the system and remove her file. It felt like the most important thing—even more important than her dungeon work, and spent every waking moment completely distracted by planning her fix. She’d reset the local machine, but it was still somewhere on their server; she tried using every admin too at her disposal to purge it, but nothing worked. Meanwhile, Miss Good kept unhelpfully testing the system—eventually recruiting Mira, asking her to come up try checking her mother in to daycare. Lena tried so hard to explain to Miss Good that she was only making the problem worse—that it was ABSOLUTELY HUMILIATING!—but the tech-illiterate attendant was oblivious. It wasn’t helped by the fact that Lena was always too embarrassed to make her arguments coherent. Indeed, Lena tried everything. She even spent a few grueling hours with the admin team trying to remove it, and—success! Success that was immediately undone when Miss Good tried her name yet again. She felt completely violated, and didn’t want to see the attendant for a few days after that. She holed up in her dungeon, not even working—there was nothing to do down there, but she was too frustrated with her colleague—every time a parent picked up their kid, the kiosk would show proof that Lena went there—her name just another tile to click among a dozen other toddlers. Miss Good eventually sent a hand-written apology attached to a small bouquet, pleading Lena to come back and finish her work—she was almost done, after all! Lena plopped it in her car seat’s cup holder. Mira asked about it, and Lena reluctantly explained the situation. Mira got it. She held her tongue, though. She thought her mother was being a little childish. Sure, Miss Good was being annoying—even Mira felt that, wondering why she had to take fifteen minutes out of her morning to fiddle with the kiosk—but her Mother, by her own admission, had never properly confronted the woman about it. Sure, maybe Miss Good was a little slow on the uptake, but it didn’t warrant such extreme passive-aggressive behavior. Mira knew Miss Good was a good miss and didn’t deserve the cold shoulder. Lena conceded the point. It wasn’t like she hated her colleague, but certainly she understood the humiliation she was making her go through? Mira shrugged. Lena said she’d talk to the woman tomorrow. When Lena entered after her hiatus, she was accosted with the familiar grainy, wheaty scent of the toddlers. They all looked at her with admiration, and Jeffrey even shouted “Lena’s back!” Miss Good just smiled, radiating warmth. It made Lena feel like she’d been missing out… but she had work to do! She needed to finish this project, already. Lainey, on the other hand, was furious. She commanded the class to look at the “little pee pee pants”… which promptly earned her a timeout. The memory of the yellow puddle and subsequent training pants brought blood to her face all the same, and she squeezed her thighs together to ground herself. “Lena, if I could show you something,” Miss Good said, motioning for her at the kiosk. The attendant angled it down so Lena could see. Lena didn’t know what she was looking for until she saw the tile right above hers: Sharon Good. Miss Good was attending daycare?! No, that wasn’t right, silly. She had signed herself in, though, presumably in solidarity with Lena. “I’m sorry for using you as a guinea pig without permission. Maybe we’re a little more even now?” Miss Good simply simpered, waiting for a response. Lena felt touched that Miss Good would degrade herself by—Lena frowned. Degrade herself by testing a computer system? What was she thinking? Was she really so insecure? Did Miss Good find her defensive nature childish? Had she been… throwing a tantrum during her time away? Lena’s eyes lit up in concern, and she immediately apologized for her behavior. She thanked Miss Good for the flowers, and told her that it wasn’t necessary, that she was being silly this whole time—that being in the daycare’s database just felt too prescient given recent events. Miss Good understood. She always did. She pulled Lena into a signature hug, which Lena reciprocated. Miss Good ultimately said that it didn’t matter if non-existent kids could be checked in; that it had never really been an issue in the first place. What Miss Good didn’t say is that she was only making a fuss to keep Lena around; having her company was soothing, even if Lena was more like another charge sometimes. Lena, of course, didn’t agree with Miss Good’s disregard, but she also lost all motivation to solve the problem. So instead, she focused on setting up the production environment and migrating the existing records. It wasn’t complicated. Most of the time would be spent waiting for a few more downloads… which, of course, gave her time to play. A few days into her home stretch, she had completely forgotten about the drama. Jeffrey was still kind, and Lainey still endlessly harassed her. Speaking of which, Lena was waking up from a nap and had to go pee very badly. Even after all this time, she didn’t immediately jump at walking out and use the employee bathroom. That was partially because the daycare’s toilets were low and small enough for her to fit on with ease. She didn’t even really mind the little rails designed to help the smaller children; it wasn’t like she was using them. In any case, Lena was impatiently waiting her turn, dancing, hand pressed between her legs, praying that the four-year-old would be out soon. Lainey stood behind her, snickering. When the door opened and Miss Good stepped out with the child in toe, Lena felt a rush of relief. Her pelvic muscles began their release in anticipation for the seat. She’d make it, of course— Lena was sent tumbling on the ground. The dam broke as Lena propped herself up on her hands and bruised knees. Urine darkened the peach fabric on her thighs. It all puddled under her before slowly migrating to the drain in the center of the room. It was a small mercy that it happened on the the easily cleaned tile instead of the foam like last time. Lena couldn’t help her tears and the black streaks on her cheeks. How could she?! She was a grown woman who’d just thoroughly soaked her pants in daycare—again. And this time, it was no one’s fault but her own. What the heck was wrong with her? Did she need those Pull-Ups after all?! “Haha! The ‘big girl’ totally wet herself again like a baby! Miss Good, Baby Lena needs diapers again!” Lainey mocked. “Lena!” Miss Good cried, rushing to her side. She shot daggers at Lainey. “Young Lady, timeout until I say so! And don’t think I won’t be telling your mommy about this.” Lena looked at her, baffled. What did Miss Good mean? Was teasing really worth talking to her mother over…? “Oh dear, I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Lainey tripped you!” Miss Good said, petting her hair. She stood her up, using her armpits as handles. “Upsy daisy. There, there, Dear, it’ll be alright.” Miss Good informed the children to, like before, be on their best behavior while she helped Lena. Then she fetched the same exact outfit from last time. She shut the door to the bathroom, careful to avoid the puddle on the floor. “Don’t worry about that, Sweetie, I’ll get it cleaned up lickity split.” Then, the strangest thing happened. The still sobbing Lena felt Miss Good pull down her skirt, tights, and panties, telling her to step out. Lena complied, her sobs stunned into a shaky breath and snotty nose. Miss Good, kneeling, began the process of wiping up and down Lena’s legs, before moving to her… sensitive areas. Lena made sure to groom herself, but that usually just meant going bare. She was well aware of how it made her look, but that was only in bed, and she wasn’t planning on having any romantic entanglements. Miss Good made sure to get all around her girl parts, and even her rear. Lena held her breath as her colleague very thoroughly cleaned her, lickety-split, just like she’d been assuming about pungent puddle on the floor. Miss Good held open the Pull-Up by her feet. The Rapunzel on the front beamed at Miss Good. “Step in, Dear.” Lena shied away, finally registering her state of undress, her nether completely uncovered. She tried to change that with squeezed legs and two hands cupping her crotch. “I don’t need diapers,” she whispered. “Of course not, Sweetie, you’re a big girl. But this is all we have. Let’s work together, okay?” Miss Good said, stretching the Pull-Up and beckoning her forward. “B-but….” Lena said. “Come on,” Miss Good said. “Other children need to use the bathroom. Just put in one foot at a time.” Lena… relented. She put her little hands on Miss Good’s shoulders and lifted one foot, stepped in, and then the other, before Miss Good shimmied it up and it fell into place between her legs, the padding perfectly conforming. “Good girl,” Miss Good said. She held out the skirt next and let Lena step into that, too, before she adjusted the waistband. She finished up with a ruffle of the small woman’s bobbed hair and a pat on her butt. She put the balled up socks in Lena’s hands, the same pink frilled ones from Lena’s previous accident, and gave Lena a final “You can put those on, right Big Girl?” before pushing a barefoot Lena out. Lena understood that Miss Good was talking down to her. She knew that it wasn’t normal for a colleague to clean your privates. She also knew that it wasn’t normal for said colleague to put on your princess Pull-Ups. But Lena felt like it was deserved; she had peed her pants again in daycare, the most infantile place to do so. She knew that Miss Good was just trying to protect her dignity by blaming Lainey for her accident. Did Lainey even trip her? Lena genuinely didn’t know. She thought she just tripped over her own leg. And Was Miss Good even looking? How did she know that it was Lainey’s fault? No, Lena thought, even if she was tripped, it was silly to blame the little girl for her own weak bladder. The crinkle felt even more pronounced and babyish as she shuffled back to the playroom. Lainey still faced corner, now doing the potty dance. She heard Lena come in and shouted at Miss Good about needing to go. Miss Good tsk’d and told her to use the boy’s room. Lainey hated that a lot, but didn’t argue. She hated how Lena was Miss Good’s favorite. It should have been her! When Mira came to pick Lena up, she instantly noticed her mother’s pink skirt. Her heart fluttered, imagining carrying Lena all the way back to the car and tightening all the straps on her mother’s floral car seat, maybe even popping a cute pacifier in her little mouth. Mira shook her head. It was ridiculous. Why was she so enamored? Miss Good explained to Mira Lena’s trip. Lena overheard; in her eyes, it barely even mattered if Lainey had tripped her. A real adult wouldn’t have let her bladder go at the first little fright. As she was about to stand up and put on her shoes to leave, Miss Good stopped her and bent down. “Oh, Lena, these are on the wrong way,” she said, referencing Lena’s borrowed socks. Were they? They didn’t have any heel markings. But Miss Good explained that the cutesy pattern should be on the bottom as Miss Good rotated them on Lena’s foot. And then Lena felt the fabric fall into place, and was mortified… the one thing that Miss Good had trusted her to do, she’d failed at. How low could she sink? Maybe putting on clothes was just too complicated for her dumb little head. Tears frosted her vision as her shoes seemed suddenly too hard to get on, barely fitting and uncomfortable. Why was this happening?! There was no way she could get a shoe wrong! The sole was facing down! She just wanted to go home and forget daycare ever existed. She didn’t register Miss Good approaching her—before being stopped by Mira. Lena left, her shoes flopping embarrassingly on the tile. Something was wrong; then it struck her. Of course! How could she be so— “Mom, your shoes are backwards,” Mira said. Lena felt utterly defeated. She sighed, and was about to flop down on the dirty ground to fix it… before Mira snatched her up. “We—we’ll fix it in the car,” she said, flustered. Lena was stunned. She tried to protest and squirm out of Mira’s grip. She could feel her daughter’s slender fingers cradling her butt, compressing her Pull-Up with each step’s bounce. Lena was subdued by the crinkles, and just tried to hide away from any curious coworkers; they didn’t need to know their IT gal peed her pants in daycare. After what felt like eternity, they made it back to the car. Mira boldly sat her mother all the way in her car seat instead of letting her climb in. Lena complained, but Mira didn’t offer any justification. She couldn’t say “Because I thought it’d be cute,” after all. Mira was deliberate with the crotch strap, trying her best to make her mother’s skirt ride up and show off her training pants. Mira felt guilty… but it was so irresistibly adorable—so much in fact that she couldn’t help herself but sneak in a photo at a red light. She knew she’d be… using that one later…. When they got home, Mira continued the fun. She noticed that her mother hadn’t fixed her shoes yet, nagging her. Lena retorted that she couldn’t reach; Mira rolled her eyes and proceeded to pick her mother up again. There was no struggle, only a muffled groan from Lena and a grunt from Mira. She set her mother down on her butt in the foyer, copping one last feel of the woman’s Pull-Up. That night, in bed, Mira stared slack-jawed at the treasure on her phone. She was tempted to make it her phone background… but that would get far too many questions. No, it would just be her little secret. Lena became determined to clean up her act. She could tell her daughter had lost all respect for her—and she knew it was justified. The only humiliation she remained blameless for her first accident in daycare. Well, the car seat fiasco also seemed difficult to avoid in hindsight—wait, no, she would have never been in that position if she hadn’t lost her license! It made Lena want to punch her mirror. That next day, she set boundaries with Miss Good. Miss Good was apologetic, saying she didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries—that Lena just looked so stressed out, and she wanted to make it as easy as possible. Lena appreciated it, but she was an adult; and adults needed to clean up their own messes. Lena blushed at her own word choice. Miss Good just sighed and agreed. With the project nearing completion, Lena thought it was a good time to take a step back from the office daycare. She sat at the check-in desk on her pillow, staring at download bars, only occasionally glancing at the story Miss Good was reading to everyone else. Sure, it would have been more comfortable to sit cross-legged on the carpet, peering up at the attendant as she careened her head over a book and flipped pages… but she needed to remain stoic. She wouldn’t be lured in again. Especially with Lainey smirking at her every time the girl caught her staring. When Lena finally announced to Miss Good that she was done, the woman was visibly disappointed. Miss Good worried she’d never see Lena again. Lena sighed. It was probably true; she was the “last resort” in the IT department, working on tech problems that only experience could crack; that mostly revolved around mysteriously malfunctioning machines left outside her door. She wasn’t literally locked in the dungeon, but she might as well have been. The real question to Lena was whether or not Miss Good was a friend. Honestly, she felt more like a boss… or rather a teacher. Lena didn’t even think of the woman as “Sharon,” and that discrepancy obviously didn’t go both ways. She could get Miss Good’s number, and they wouldn’t have to say goodbye… but did Lena really want her teacher’s number? It felt like some kind of impropriety. The other aspect holding Lena back was all the infantilization she had suffered at Miss Good’s hands. Sure, it was all mostly harmless, and Lena enjoyed most of her time spent in daycare, but she wasn’t sure if she’d ever see herself as Miss Good’s equal. Lena wondered if Miss Good felt the same. It was for that reason that Lena didn’t push the matter. Miss Good would be upset, but that’s just the way things had to be. Maybe they’d see each other at an office party or something… if Lena ever went to one. When Mira heard that her mother would no longer attend daycare, she was a bit heartbroken. She supposed that the project was bound to end eventually, but she also gathered that it took way longer than necessary—why was she, who didn’t even work at the company, being asked to test the check in system? How complicated could it have been? It seemed fishy, and she could tell her mother was a little too relaxed. She wasn’t quite sure what she was hoping for, other than to maintain the status quo—maybe, she fantasized, she’d get a summer job, and her mother would be stuck in daycare all day everyday while she was at work. Her extracurriculars sometimes went long so an “extended stay” wasn’t unprecedented. But, alas, the fantasy was dowsed in cold water at the news. The summer job was still on her mind, though; it would look great on college apps. Her mother knew this, and offered her an olive branch at dinner. Lena would speak with her boss about getting an intern, specifically Mira. Mira had no interest in tech, but she also knew her job would be a breeze with her mother on the case. For all her faults, the little woman truly was a tech wizard. Mira’s first day with her mother started on her first day of summer vacation. Both ladies were glad to be able to “sleep in,” and Mira was glad she didn’t have to drive as far. It was strange for Lena to have authority over her daughter. She still held the position as guardian legally, but it felt like a meaningless title when Mira was the one managing the household… and her. Being driven around in a child’s car seat by your daughter was already surreal enough for Lena. The mother supposed that it all really started the night Mira was conceived. With her minute puberty and child-like frame, Doctors had made it clear to Lena at young age that pregnancy was unlikely, but somehow Lena’s father had made it happen. It happened the night he disappeared: the couple had their fun times, and Lena was so exhausted she fell asleep instantly. But when she woke up, he had vanished. His car was still in the driveway and his clothes still in the dryer—there was no evidence of him even leaving the bedroom. The authorities looked everywhere, but eventually they presumed him dead. It took five months for Lena to notice her husband’s apparent success. Her period was unreliable as-is, and it usually only came as a red stain on her underwear. Her primary care physician had to run the whole gambit of tests to confirm—really, believe—she was pregnant, and even then he warned about miscarriages. Raising a child all on her lonesome terrified her and she was still getting over her lover; yet, the love she felt for the fetus was undeniable. She didn’t care if she died trying. They had to perform a C-section and Lena passed out from blood loss, apparently on the verge of death. The only thing she could remember was waking up and asking for her baby—then holding baby Mira in her arms, feeling the little girl was a miracle. As Lena sat comfortably in her car seat, she couldn’t help but smile at the back of her daughter’s head. Mira’s hair was a dirty blond, just like her father. Mira was uncharacteristically skittish around the vivisected machines on Lena’s work desk. Most of Lena’s job was running down a list of troubleshooting steps; applying the fix was usually only a ten minute job. Teaching Mira would be a slow, methodical process that would simply involve through having her perform the actions one at a time repeatedly, day after day. Lena knew her daughter was bright and would get it in no time. Their work came to a halt one morning when Lena got a ping from her boss. Miss Good was complaining about a signal so weak she couldn’t do anything. Lena was suspicious that it hadn’t come up before, and even more suspicious that she was being asked. Had Miss Good asked for her? Or did her boss simply send her based off her previous experience. Lena used it as a learning opportunity for Mira; there were about a hundred things that could cause signal issues, and she’d methodically go through each option. Maybe she’d even start with the unlikeliest to maximize the learning potential! When Lena showed up, Miss Good was absolutely beaming—which morphed into pleasant surprise when Mira followed wearing her own badge. Miss Good couldn’t help but chat their ears off about the circumstances, but Lena didn’t actually mind. Miss Good’s cordiality almost made the little woman regret ghosting her. Mira felt extra self-conscious watching her mother work, waiting on her hand and foot. She felt like a child—especially with how Sharon hovered behind her while Lena narrated troubleshooting steps from under the desk. After what felt like an eternity, the system seemed to resurrect, and Miss Good clapped her hands at the news. Lena giggled as a few of the children innocently joined in on the applause. Miss Good took out a white sheet full of golden stars from her apron and peeled a sticker off, pushing it on Mira. Flustered, she let Miss Good stick it on the back of her hand. It felt impossible to reject when the woman was so… tall. Mira never noticed her own lack of height when she was picking up her mother—but now that she was being doted on by the giant daycare attendant…. Miss Good cooed, and turned to Lena. Lena smiled, saying no thank you, that the attendant could get her a coffee sometime if she repayment. Miss Good nodded and shot a coy glance at a rosy Mira. Mira rubbed her star-stickered hand as she followed her mother back to the dungeon. She hated how all the other children at the daycare looked jealous of her sticker, and she especially hated that she didn’t even think to refuse the childish object. Her mother didn’t have an iota of hesitation when she rebuked. It made Mira mad. She was supposed to be the one cherishing Lena’s infantilization! Mira tried shaking the thought out of her ear like pool water. No, everything that had happened to Lena was just circumstance, and Mira took no pleasure in it. That would be perverse; sure, she found it entertaining—adorable, even—but—no! She was getting sidetracked. The point was that Miss Good—Sharon—had humiliated her in front of her babyish mother and— Mira grimaced. It was ridiculous. Sharon had simply given her a sticker. It was a joking, friendly gesture, and she meant nothing by it. Duh! It was about two days later that Lena received another complaint from Miss Good. This time, however, she was so sure about Miss Good’s issue that she explained it to Mira and told her daughter to go in her stead. Lena added that it would be Mira’s last task of the day, as Lena would be finishing up her sent-in pile; Mira would be free to grab a late lunch somewhere, and if she did, would be encouraged to pick something up for Lena. Mira couldn’t untie the knot in her tummy as she sauntered into the daycare, a flash drive in her palm hopefully not soaking up too much sweat. She tried to explain her mother’s technobabble to the attendant, but Miss Good’s eyes just glazed over. Mira gulped and jammed the dongle into the receptacle. Mira clicked a few buttons, then proceeded to melt as she saw the progress bar hit 1%... after ten minutes of waiting. Miss Good recognized Mira’s fish-eyed stare, and knew just how to distract the woman. “Would you like a coloring book? They’re great ways to decompress and pass time. This one is pretty adult.” She held a book with simple line art of fancy home interiors and gardens. Mira knew Miss Good wasn’t totally nuts—that adult coloring books were a thing… but Mira couldn’t seriously use one. She was on the job…. 1.5%. Mira groaned. It would be a long time before she was free to do anything. She shook her head and pulled out her phone. Miss Good smirked and placed the book and a box of unsorted colored pencils on the check-in desk. Unfortunately, Mira fell into the same pitfall that trapped her mother all those weeks ago: her phone was almost useless in that corner of the building. She tsk’d in defeat before… peaking at the coloring book when Miss Good was turned away. Then she gave it some covert page flips. Finally, she made a simple red mark on a tiny vase. No one would even— “Why don’t you sit down there so you don’t mark up the desk?” Miss Good motioned towards a table where Jeffrey sat, coloring a book not so dissimilar to Mira’s. Mira’s words caught in her throat. She tried to deny what she’d been doing—that she didn’t have the pencil in her hand that matched the single color on the otherwise pristine page. But that was a step too far. She tried to ask the progress bar for an out, but it said 2.5%. She deflated, dragging her book over to the tiny table. The table at which Jeffrey sat reminded Mira of her mother’s old dining table. They weren’t too far off in height, and years of using the one at home made the daycare table feel humiliatingly natural. Jeffrey introduced himself to a wide-eyed, blushing Mira who barely coughed out her name. Mid-picture, Miss Good asked politely for Mira’s shoes. Mira was torn between standing up, marching out, and never coming back… but she did want to finish her picture. And more importantly, she didn’t want to lose her internship. She relented, relinquishing her sneakers and brandishing her black crew socks. Mira continued coloring until she heard the shrill voice of her mother. “Mira?” Mira threw her pencil down and nearly flipped the table with her knee as she shot up. Little Jeffrey let out a cry of concern. Lena tried her best to hide her mirth, but she was a terrible actress. “I was just—“ Mira tried to get out. “She was taking a little break,” Miss Good chirped. Lena shrugged. She told Mira that if the drive was taking a while, she could have just left for lunch. Lena held up a paper bag for her daughter to see and announced that they should go. But as Mira was putting on her shoes, Miss Good bent down and dabbed her cheek with a gold sticker. Mira protested, but Miss Good just cooed and told her how happy she was to have her helping out. Mira peeled off the sticker as soon as Miss Good turned away, but she didn’t know where to put it. She tried to ball it up, but it just managed to stick to her palm. Mira stomped away, refusing to look back at the waving Miss Good. Lena tried to ask her daughter what the problem was; from her perspective, coloring was hardly the most embarrassing thing to be caught doing. Sure, she was using her work break to do a coloring book in daycare, but it wasn’t like she was… peeing herself. No, Lena knew from experience that it could be far worse. But even when faced with the very sound arguments, Mira couldn’t shake the swirling storm in her tummy. She just hated how easy it was for her to fall in line behind Miss Good. Maybe this is what her mother felt all this time. It almost felt like Miss Good was somehow behind it all: the car seat, the accidents, the license. And now, Miss Good was even going after Mira, the responsible one, trying to drag her down to the level of a toddler! Except, that was an insane idea. Mira was pretty certain that her mother didn’t know Miss Good before the daycare project, and that started after Lena’s license was revoked. It didn’t quite invalidate her theory, but it did make it sound stupid. Mira just needed to get her head in the game and take work more seriously. It was one thing to say and another to do. She tossed and turned as the memories of asking Jeffrey if he had any reds tormented her sleep. When the two arrived at work the next day, Mira dreaded heading back to daycare—but that was her task, and Lena wasn’t going to accept some vague nonsense excuse. Mira hid her whimper when she saw that the progress bar had shifted from Processing to Failure overnight. Miss Good could only offer a frown and a suggestion to call Lena. When Mira did so, Lena just told her to try again but watch the progress bar and report when it failed. Mira tried to crush her phone in her iron grip. Her mom was trying to humiliate her! How was waiting around a pastel daycare helping her career prospects?! Her mother was trying to—to—to tempt her, or something! Not that she could be tempted with comfy cots or pretty puzzles. That was so ridiculous that Mira wanted to cry… from laughter, or something. Nap time really was difficult to resist. She was also jealous of the Spaniards’ siestas, so it’s all she could think about when the curtains were drawn and the lights dimmed…. Maybe she’d just put her chin to her hand and stare out at the snoring little tots… Mints wafted off Miss Good’s breath as she whispered “Do you want to take a nap, too?” The hairs on Mira’s neck stood on end as she clammed up. Miss Good, ever the boundary pusher, took this as a sign to guide Mira up and over to the only empty cot. Mira didn’t question why it was there, she just imagined what it might be like to lay her head on the little pillow. Mira was short—not as dwarfish as her mother, mind you—but she could easily fit. She was out like a light bulb—and on like one too when her mother showed up, speaking hushed tones with Miss Good. She heard the word “angel” and prayed that it wasn’t referencing her. And—and… what if it was?! Huh? It made her even more angry that the download had failed yet again. Mira waited to blow up at her mother until they got situated in the car. It would be easier to scold the woman when she was strapped down in her stupid, babyish car seat. Mira’s grip on the steering wheel was so tight she felt like her bones were about to shoot out of her fingers. She laid into her mother, calling her self-centered, lazy, conniving, immature. Lena didn’t understand where the vitriol was coming from. The task wasn’t that hard, was it? Had she put too much on her daughter? Was Miss Good too overbearing? She could understand that. It was the reason she had to leave the daycare. Still, Mira was mature—clearly, since Mira was the one in the driver seat, while she was strapped in to her booster—and she didn’t think it was anything for her daughter to deal with the attendant. Wasn’t Mira the one that agreed to color and nap, anyway? Didn’t she enjoy it? And where was the problem? Lena tried reasoning, but it only made her daughter angrier. So angry that Mira ended up missing every turn possible. Lena got anxious as she saw all the wrong signs pass by. But she said nothing, because she didn’t want to be a literal backseat driver; or, she supposed, even worse: a booster seat driver. Mira knew she was distracted. She knew they were going to take a long time to get home. And that only made her even angrier. But Mira wasn’t only angry, she was feeling vindictive. She knew her mother always had to pee after work; and with each mile out of the way they wandered, Lena’s squirming and kicking only intensified. She could torture her mother purely with time, but that alone wouldn’t do it—her mother’s bladder might’ve been small, but it was plenty strong enough. No, Lena would need a shock. A wicked grin grew on Mira’s muzzle. She turned on to a side street with lots of red lights. They were still going home, of course—she needed plausible deniability—but she wanted to take the scenic route. It was green—she floored it and tailgated; then it was red—she stomped on the breaks. She heard her mother squeak in alarm and—oh, oh yes. Was it really that easy? Lena’s piss pooled around her car seat and soaked into everything. The smell was… well, pee. It wasn’t pleasant, but to Mira, it was absolutely worth it. Her mother had pissed herself in her car seat! Who was the baby now?! Mira could never slip, though. She just yelled at her mother, calling her every version of “baby” she could muster. And Lena just cried. How could she not? It was the most humiliating thing to happen to her in… well, a few weeks maybe. Peeing yourself in daycare wasn’t much better. At least this was somewhat private. Mira didn’t explain what she was doing as she pulled into the parking lot of a dollar store. She asked Lena if she wanted to come in or stay in the car, but Lena was only capable of asking why they were stopped through sobs. Mira ignored her non-response and went in to fetch her weapon. She came out with a package of Pull-Ups, cartoon princesses adorning each face of the plastic package. Lena recoiled in horror. Mira couldn’t hide her grin. She hoped it looked more mean than excited. “Step out. You’re changing into these,” Mira barked as she pulled her wet mother from the car. Lena just stared up at her daughter, slack jawed, hiccuping, legs apart. “Panties off first,” Mira said, sticking her fingers under her mother’s skirt. She pulled down her tights and panties and even shoes, leaving the older woman standing on her wet clothes in the darkened parking lot. Then she ripped open the package and ordered Lena to step in. Lena gulped and did as she was told. She was worried that if she didn’t comply her daughter might… punish her. Sure, if held at gun point, she would have bet against it—but that wasn’t saying much. Lena cringed when she felt the padding brush her pissy skin. Mira ripping off her skirt was the final humiliation. She yelped and pleaded, but Mira was already busy in the open trunk. She tried her best to hide Cinderella’s smile with crossed legs and splayed fingers. Then she saw what her daughter was retrieving, and every coherent thought dissolved into dust: the inner, infant car seat that had been discarded so long ago. Lena begged, hanging on to Mira’s shirt, waddling barefoot onto the black and oily pavement. Snot and tears poured down her face. But it didn’t work. The thing was snapped into place over her wet spot and waited patiently to encase her. She didn’t want to believe it would fit. It couldn’t. She wouldn’t be an adult if she fit. She fit. Lena bawled her eyes out as her daughter squeezed in her and buckled up the harnesses. Lena tried to escape, of course… but her feeble protests were no match for her daughter and the car seat’s plastic frame. She was laying even flatter than before, she realized. She could barely even look at her own purple, crinkling Pull-Up. All she could see was the stupid handle bar above her, taunting her, telling her that her daughter was bound to carry her into her own home like luggage. Mira explained that Lena wasn’t wearing adult underwear until she went through that entire package of Pull-Ups without a single accident—that the woman was having far too many recently, and she clearly needed some protection. Mira didn’t have a good BS reason they had to be toddler’s training pants, so she glossed over that fact. Lena couldn’t question it. It was true. This was her third accident in a matter of weeks. It didn’t matter to her if she’d been sabotaged—no one else but a baby would have peed themselves in her shoes, she felt. So maybe Mira was right—she needed these. And as humiliating as they were, maybe that would be the motivation she needed to… really take the potty seriously, or something. The whole thing was a rush for Mira. She couldn’t help recording an entire collection of videos at stop lights of her mother. She needed to remind herself that it was real. That she had not only gotten back at her mother, but had completely reduced her to a toddler. And her mother wasn’t even arguing! Maybe deep down, her mother knew she was just a little girl who needed looking after. But Mira wasn’t quite done. The only sound in the car as they pulled into the driveway was Lena’s sniffles. Mira twisted in her seat, studying her mother—the way her legs dangled helplessly, the way her fingers curled around the padded straps, the way her wet eyelashes clumped together. Something primal twisted in Mira’s gut. She unbuckled herself slowly, deliberately, savoring the click of the release. The car door creaked open, and Mira’s shadow loomed over Lena’s crumpled form. Lena hiccuped, her fingers tightening around the harness straps as if she could tear them. Mira was somewhere between triumph and hunger. She reached down, her fingers curling around the handle bar of the car seat. She undid the latches to the outer seat with slowness that made Lena hold her breath. No, no, her daughter couldn’t do this to her, she wasn’t about to— The plastic groaned under her grip as Mira lifted the entire seat—Lena and all—from the car, grunting. It was heavy and awkward, but it would’ve been worth a dislocated shoulder if it came to that. Lena’s legs swung uselessly, jolting around. "W-wait—" she stammered, but Mira was already walking toward the house, the rhythmic squeak of the car seat’s hinges punctuating each step.