Rainbow Diapers

I feel this 100%  You are not alone good sir. 

Just myself and the hubby 

Percept-Shun  Rachel needed a cigarette. She’d been in the car with her mother, her Aunt Kristen, and her cousin Kendall for less than an hour, and if she didn’t get a cigarette right the fuck now she was going to murder Mom and Aunt Kristen. Then she’d have to kill poor Kendall just so there wouldn’t be any witnesses or else her newly earned Master’s Degree in Finance would be worthless. If she was going to go full American Psycho she should at least wait till she had the shiny corner office.  “Oh how time flies!” Mom gushed from the front passenger seat, “I can’t believe how grown up you two have gotten!”  That twenty-four years seemed short to Mom positively boggled Rachel’s mind. It had taken her forever to get this far.   Aunt Kristen piled on the embarrassment with “You’re telling me! It seems like just yesterday we were nursing them.” “Oh that’s right,” Mom remembered, “Rachel did go back to breastfeeding for a while after Kendall was born.”  She grinned teasingly at her daughter. “Somebody was feeling jealooous!” Rachel really needed a cigarette. “Mom, could you not?!” “At least they’re getting it out of their system here instead of at dinner,” Kendall muttered.  Her cousin had a point, but Rachel would have preferred it not happen at all. Every family celebration, gathering, trip, or night out resulted in the same thing: Their mothers reminiscing about their entire lives, starting from the very beginning. Boring baby stories, embarrassing potty training incidents, cringe inducing puberty flashbacks, bad prom dates, the works.  All of it with equally giddy fervor, too. Kendall getting class valedictorian was just as interesting as Rachel having a bad case of acne that one summer, which was just as amusing as that time Kendall swallowed a loose tooth when she was five and started writing letters to the tooth fairy and flushing them, which was just as warm and fuzzy as Mom recounting Rachel’s first word being “Mommy”.  No matter how old they got, the cousins were first and foremost their mothers’ baby girls.  “We’ve got us a couple of big girls!” Aunt Kristen crowed.  Such praise would have meant more if she hadn’t said it exactly the same way after every coming of age ritual either of them had experienced. They’d been ‘a couple of big girls’ ever since Kendall had ‘graduated’ from the crawler room to the toddler room at daycare and Rachel left daycare for preschool. This particular year, they were adding Rachel getting her Master’s and Kendall getting accepted into med school alongside such achievements as learning how to whistle or taking one’s first steps. To celebrate, they were being taken to some fancy theme restaurant that Rachel had never heard of. Though now officially a college graduate with a Master’s degree, Rachel wasn’t making enough money to where she would turn down a free meal; that, and she loved her mom.  Mom gave Rachel reason to reconsider when she said,  “Remember when little Kendall was afraid to take baths by herself?” Aunt Kristen finished the flashback. “So little Rachel had to get in the tub with her so she didn’t scream! What did we call them, again?” Both women screeched!  “THE BATH BUDDIES!” This was going to be a loooooong night. “Mom?” Kendall peeped up. “Auntie Jordan? Can we please-?”  “No-no-no!” Mom remembered, cutting Kendall off. “They were ‘Bath Bubbies’! Rachel couldn’t say ‘buddy’ yet.” Aunt Kristen gasped.  “That’s right!” Every time. Every freakin’ time.  Every time either of them got in the backseat of this car, they went right back to being babies and toddlers. Something to talk about and over but not talk to. Rachel and Kendall had confirmed privately that their mothers acted this way toward them even when the other cousin wasn’t around.  As far as either one could ever tell, it wasn’t even out of a sense competition. They weren’t comparing daughters as much as talking semi-obsessively and passionately about either one. Like each of their children was their very specific special interest. Like they each defined themselves first and foremost as mothers. Ugh. It was thoughts like that that made Rachel glad that she wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment. It was hard imagining her mother as a real fully formed person. If becoming a mother had done that to her…ugh. The idea just put a cold wet towel over her libido. Rachel needed a cigarette.  “I need to pee.”  “We’re almost to the restaurant,” Mom said. “You can hold it.” Restaurants didn’t sell cigarettes. “I need to go,” Rachel repeated. “Now.” “You can hold it,” Mom said. No matter how many accomplishments she’d accumulated, the oldest Mom ever treated Rachel was eight. Kendall raised her hand like she was in a class. “Actually,” she squeaked. “I’d appreciate the chance to stretch my legs.” “When one’s gotta go, the other’s gotta go, too.” Aunt Kristen chuckled. “Works every time.” “Except for the couple of years where Kendall wasn’t potty trained yet.” “Couple of years?” Aunt Kristen cocked an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it more like months? I remember we had quite a few diaper change races back in the day.” “She was fully dry at night by age four,” Mom corrected her, “but she day-trained just before she turned three.” Rachel and Kendall would have been mortified if they hadn’t heard this kind of talk every birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Graduations were just an irregular annoyance instead  “MOM!!!” both shouted. “Alright, alright,” Aunt Kristen rolled her eyes in the rearview mirror and turned into a gas station. The car pulled into a gas station, and the cousins got out. Their mothers waited for them in the car, which was a surprise considering how they acted sometimes. Rachel was half expecting them to get out and insist they hold hands walking to the gas station bathroom.  Rachel stopped at the front counter with murder in her eyes and a desperate hunger for nicotine. Smoking was a vile, nasty habit she’d picked up from an ex-boyfriend her freshman year of college and half the reason why she hadn’t quit yet was the unadulterated joy she got from being able to keep a secret from her mother combined with imagining how freaked out her mom would be if she ever found out.  It was win-win.   On second thought, it wasn’t. If Mom ever found out, Rachel would just get an earful of sobbing and her mother wondering if this happened because she weaned Rachel too soon.  All the more reason to do this covertly. “Pack of Camels, please.” She said, barely keeping her annoyance properly targeted. The clerk behind the counter squinted his eyes at her. “I’m gonna need to see some I.D. miss” Fuck. Rachel had a major case of babyface. Her whole life people thought she was younger than she actually was. Her mother told her to be grateful and that when she was older she’d be grateful for it.  That might be true coming from a woman in her fifties who could still pass for thirty, but Rachel didn’t appreciate having her driver’s license scrutinized every time she wanted a cigarette or something to drink just because she looked like she was still in high school.  (They say smoking made one age prematurely, another reason to not kick the habit.)  Rachel moved her head to the right and lifted her arm up to get to her purse. The problem was she’d left it in the car. She couldn’t go back to the car and get her purse, as that would bring up the question of why did she need money to go to the toilet?  Then that would launch into questioning Kendall if that was true or not and that would become a whole thing. Saying she wanted to buy some gum wouldn’t fly because they were close to the restaurant. She was a grown-ass woman! Why did she need to justify doubling back and getting her purse?!   Had she been calmer she might have realized she could just say that she was starting her period early this month, and the most she’d get was nagged about forgetting her purse or something, with no suspicion whatsoever that she was buying herself emergency stress relief. If she’d been calmer she couldn’t have needed a cigarette to begin with. “Pack of Camels,” Kendall said, her cash and I.D. at the ready. The cashier examined Kendall’s license, gave a passing glance at Rachel, and shrugged.  “I don’t get paid enough,” he said, and turned to get the cigarettes behind him. Rachel felt her jaw drop. “You smoke.” “No,” Kendall said, “But you do.” “Please don’t tell,” Rachel started to beg. Kendall waved it off.  “Don’t worry. I get it. Our moms are annoying. I just took an edible in the bathroom so I can make it through dinner.”  She turned her head toward the clerk. “You didn’t hear that.” “Nope.” The clerk said. “I did not.” Kendall slipped him a twenty and told him to keep the change. Rachel laughed. “Oh my god, Kendall! Thank you! I thought it was just me.”  Kendall giggled. “No, it’s not just you. I’m sick of being called a ‘big girl’ for every little thing. My life shouldn’t be a checklist for someone else to brag about.” Rachel groaned with relief. “I know, right? At least you have the better overall checklist. I’d just be happy to be a whole ass person with a part in the discussion beyond reporting what I’m accomplishing.”  “My mom is so much worse,” Kendall moaned. “I think your mom bragged about you so much that mine overcompensates to catch up. I might have been conceived out of pure envy!” “Uh…sorry to interrupt…” The clerk butted in. “Do you want your cigarettes or not?” “Shit,” Rachel hissed.  She palmed the cigarettes so she could stash them in her purse for later. This wasn’t her first time and her mom was nosey but not omnipotent. Best not to keep Jordan waiting, though, and Rachel’s lighter was still in her purse as well.  “Sorry.” The gas station attendant simply shrugged. “It happens.” On their way out Rachel asked her cousin, “You don’t happen to have another gummy do you?” Kendall blushed. “That was my last one. Sorry, cuz.” Now she really needed that cigarette. ***************************************************************************************************** Not quite fifteen minutes:  “This?” Kendall giggled. “This is where you wanted to take us?” Normally quiet and demure Kendall was seeing the stupid sight in front of the and on the verge of cackling. The edible she’d taken was definitely kicking in. “What?” Mom asked with far too much sincerity. “All the reviews say it’s quite an experience. Like going to a theme park or something.” The parking lot was enormous and packed; with hundreds of cars all around. More than any normal restaurant had any right to be.  That’s because this wasn’t a normal restaurant.  This was a restaurant attached to a mall. Based on the big window and the style of brick, the spot might have originally belonged to a Chili’s or a T.G.I.Friday’s; a big generic family friendly bar and grill with warm colors and big windows to entice you inside to eat gluttonous proportions of beef and get mildly intoxicated before going on a shopping binge.  Presently, all the bricks were painted cement gray and the windows were frosted over.  It completely clashed with the rest of the building, a business trying to be a trendy dining establishment in a bland comfort food location.   The neon purple lights above the main windows and entrance declared its name: “Percept-Shun.” “Oooh!” Aunt Kristen remarked. “Percept-Shun. It’s like ‘perception’ but spelled differently.” “We get it, Aunt Kristen,” Rachel grit her teeth.  “Yeah, Kristen,” Mom laughed. “We’ve got a med student and a future finance guru here. I think they can understand a little word play.” “Well they’ll always be our big girls to me, Jordan.” Aunt Kristen said. Rachel caught a knowing look being sent her way from Kendall. Rachel nodded. Okay. Yeah. They were both bad, but Aunt Kristen was slightly worse. “Are you sure we want to eat here?” Rachel asked, trying to be diplomatic. “If the food sucks,” Mom said, “We’ll just go into the food court.” “It being in the mall gives us an excuse to shop for graduation presents, too.” Rachel liked the sound of that.  “Equal attention presents,” Mom snickered. Rachel liked that less so. “Free food is free food,” Kendall said with a shrug. Oh yeah. The edible was definitely kicking in. The inside of the establishment had definitely once been a Chili’s. The comfy couch like booth benches common to casual dining remained, though like the outside they were now painted a cement-like grayish white.  The building was silent when they went in. Only the hum of the air conditioning and the funny little man standing behind the poorly painted host stand. He wasn’t actually little, per se. He was taller than Rachel. He could have been called boney, or lanky, or slim perhaps, but not little. Just with his wrinkles and laugh lines, and his far too dark too be natural hair that was parted down the middle, and how his mustache was waxed into a little handlebar, and the tiny little spectacles that sat on his nose: there was something delightfully twee about him. ““Ah! ’Allo, ladees!” He began in a fake French accent straight out of Monty-Python. “To Percept-Shun, you are most velcome. A table for four, I am presuming, yes?” “OH MY FUGGIN-!” Kendall doubled over. “THIS GUY!!!” That edible had really kicked in on Kendall. Rachel, meanwhile, felt more irritated than anything else. She hadn’t gotten her cigarette yet. “Kendall!” Aunt Kristen scolded. “Manners!” “Yes,” Kendall snorted. “Yes, Mommy!” Then broke out in laughter. Mom took charge with the goofy looking host. “Table for four, please.” The host snatched up a handful of menus and waddled, literally waddled like a penguin, and bid them follow. “Vonderful! Right zis vay, please.” The place was devoid of decoration, almost purposely so. Nothing but wood and steel painted like cement from all around.  “They did say this was like a theme park,” Rachel grumbled. Theme parks were way more crowded.  This place had no customers, nor waiters, nor bartenders, nor from the sound of it any cooks either. “More like a modern art display,” she corrected herself. “Or a student film.” “Hon hon hon!” The one other person in the restaurant besides them laughed in the same fake accent in which he spoke. “Ah, vairy funny, miss! Vairy funny!” He gestured towards an empty booth and the family took it. “And now, may I ask—are ve celebrating somesing in particular zis evening, hm?” “We’ve got two big girls here!” At this point Aunt Kristen was doing it on purpose to annoy them. She couldn’t possibly be this tone deaf. “Just graduated from college!” “Masters in finance,” Rachel said. “Pre-med going into med school.” Kendall announced.  “And it seems like just yesterday I was walking you to kindergarten.” Mom gushed. “Or watching you learn to walk!” Aunt Kristen said. “Magnifique!” the odd little man clapped. “Zen I shall fetch you ze champagne. Compliments of ze house, of course.” He waddled three or four steps, then called back over his shoulder. “Pleez take your time to look over ze menu vhile I am gone! ” The family held their breath, the elder pair looking back behind them and the younger leaning out sideways to watch him leave until he was gone.  Then they situated themselves and huddled up across the table. “Okay, this place is weird, right?” Rachel whispered. “Definitely,” Mom agreed, “but I’m not hating it.”  “Me neither,” Kendall giggled.  “I’m pretty sure you’d think anything was funny right about now,” Rachel teased. Aunt Kristen raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “Why would you think that?” Rachel’s younger cousin shot her a death glare and Rachel covered. “Just the kind of mood we’re all in tonight. Hard to take anything here seriously.” “I feel like that’s kind of the whole point,” Mom chuckled.  Aunt Kristen chuckled too.  “Yeah,” she whispered. “Did you guys hear that cheesy accent?”   “Yeah,” Kendall giggled. “That’s got to be the worst German accent I’ve ever heard!” All faces scrunched up in confusion and looked at the youngest member of their quartet. “That wasn’t a fake German accent, that was a Russian accent.” “Not even close,” Rachel playfully scoffed, “that was supposed to be French.” “I thought he was going for a Spanish accent,” Mom threw in.  All four gaped and gawked at one another over the silly little detail.  They couldn’t all be wrong, could they? When the host, who apparently was also the waiter, returned with a bottle of champagne and four flutes, they asked him.   “Vatever accent you sink I have—zis is ze accent I have,” the man replied with a little wink and a twee grin, pouring the champaign into the glasses. “Perception is reality, no?” “But seriously,” Rachel asked. “What accent is that supposed to be?” The waiter finished pouring and put down the bottle. “Honestly?” he bobbled his head from side to side, as if trying to find the right words. “I do not have an ac-zent!”  Everyone laughed, even Rachel. Kendall was burying her head and pounding the table she was laughing so hard. Mom looked like she was about.  “Fair enough, “Rachel said. “I guess nobody thinks they have an accent.” Their lone server waggled his finger up in the air. “Aha! Now you are getting it!”  Rachel chuckled again, feeling like she was on the inside of the joke all of a sudden. Theme restaurants and parks were really just paying someone to gaslight you. “Have you decided vat you would like to order yet?” “Oh no,” Aunt Kristen chuckled. “We got so distracted.”  Four sets of hands picked up the menus. Four sets of eyeballs didn’t understand what they were looking at. There were no prices listed. There were no appetisers listed. There were no main courses, sides, or desserts. From top to bottom, the folded up menus with clear plastic laminating on them was just a list of words. And none of those words were food! “What does it mean?” Mom asked. “‘The One That Got Away’? ‘Queen Bee’? ‘Bitch but in a good way’?  Are these the name of the dishes? Or cocktails? Or…?” The lone waiter chuckled twirled his mustache. “Ahhh, madam misunderstands! Ze menu ees entirely up to ze chef. But ow-evair you vant to feel—no, ow you vant to be perceived—just tell 'im, and 'e shall use 'is magnifique gift to make you zat vay!” “And who, may I ask, is the chef?” Mom propped her elbow on the table and rested her chin, already suspecting the answer. “Me, of course!” That got a laugh from the four of them.  This place was kind of sad and weird, but an amusing train wreck of a failing restaurant would still make a good story after the night was through. Better than hearing about the first time Rachel ate spicy food.  “In that case,” Aunt Kristen ran her finger down the list of adjectives and nouns. “I’d like one ‘Proud Parent’ please.  Because I am and I want everybody to know it.” “Awwwww! Mom!” Kendall blushed. She looked at her own menu. “How about the ‘Ready and Rarin’ to go’? Because I’m just getting started on the hard stuff!” The funny little man dug into his vest pocket and pulled out a notepad. “Tre bien. Tre bien.” Seriously! How did the others not think he was trying to be French? He wasn’t succeeding, but he was definitely trying! “I’d like to know what a Hot Mama looks and tastes like.”  Rachel audibly gasped. “Mother!” “Whaaaat?” Mom asked. “I am proud of you! I’m just trying to have some fun!”  She jostled the waiter slightly with the back of her hand. “Did you know that when she was a freshman in highschool, all of her teachers thought I was her sister?” The waiter did not look up from his notepad, only saying the words, “One. Hot. Mama.” and then shifting his gaze over to Rachel. “And vu, mademoiselle?” “About what you would expect,” Rachel said in total deadpan handing over the menu. “I vill see vat I can do,” the waiter replied dryly. He took the other menus and scuttled off. “One moment, pleez.” “Gosh, Rachel,” her mother chastised her. “You don’t need to throw a wet blanket just because I want to see what a dish looks like.” Rachel tipped back some of the liquid courage in her champagne flute.  “I know, Mom, but this is supposed to be about me getting my degree. Not a bachelor party.” “It’s also about your cousin, Kendall,” Aunt Kristen reminded her. “She’s a big girl today, too.” “Mother…” Kendall warned, but Rachel had a feeling it had fallen on deaf ears. That was the thing. It was never really about Rachel, though was it? She didn’t exist as her own person. She was her mother’s daughter and Kendall’s big cousin that had to share everything. She couldn’t remember a time when her accomplishments were her own; if they were, Kendall was always right on her heels. She couldn’t remember a time when her accomplishments weren’t infantilized in some way. The waiter came back before the verbal chafing could devolve into an outright argument. Carried over his head were four plates, all covered with stainless steel lids.   “That was fast!” Kendall remarked.  “It’s like he had them ready as soon as we ordered,” Aunt Kristen said. “Theme park,” Mom said. Chances are Aunt Kristen was correct. Those plates probably had four identical pre-made meals with mild changes in sauces or particular spices sprinkled on top like nacho dust flavoring on movie theater popcorn.  This was gonna suck. The waiter placed the plates in front of each guest, and then one at a time unveiled them. “I give you…Proud Parent!”  Donna’s plate featured perfectly roasted quail with a side of boiled quail eggs and steamed broccoli.   Aunt Kristen grinned and gave a polite golf clap. “Ooooh, fancy!” “For you, mademoiselle, I give you Ready and Rarin’ To Go.”  The lid came off and revealed a filet mignon, cooked rare, with a fully loaded baked potato and asparagus. The only thing that could have been better for Kendall at this point in the night was a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.  “Nice!” “For you Madam, One Hot Mama!”   He lifted the lid and gave Mom a blackened chicken caesar salad with extra dressing on the side. “Oh this is perfect.” Mom tittered. “Perfect.” “And for you, mademoiselle,” the waiter gave a curt bow. “About What You Would Expect.” Rachel saw her dish after the steam cloud cleared and let out a mildly disappointed sigh. Everyone else got at least decent restaurant food. All Rachel was getting was chicken fingers and macaroni and cheese. “That seems about right,” Mom joked.  Aunt Kristen would have agreed but she’d just popped a quail egg in her mouth and was in the middle of swallowing it down. “Mmmhmm.” Rachel pushed the play of children’s cuisine away from her. “I’d like to send this back and request something else, please.” “I’m so sorry, mademoiselle,” the skinny little man said. “Ve do not accept substitutions at Percept-Shun. It eez, how you say? You get vat you get, and you don’t throw a feet. May I refill your drink, pleez?”  He didn’t wait for Rachel’s consent to start pouring. Rachel didn’t stop him. “I’m just asking for something else,” Rachel tried. “It’s not like you’re busy.”   Mom looked appalled. “Rachel!” “What?” Rachel gestured around to the other empty booths. “I’m not saying he’s a bad cook, I’m just saying it’s not busy!” The host/waiter/chef sniffed dryly. “Actually, mademoiselle, ve are ow you say…packed? I simply prefer to give every customer ze personal attention zey deserve.” “Wow,” Rachel allowed herself. “You are really committed to the bit.” “Come on, Rachel.” Kendall said, taking her third bite of steak. “Just try it. It’s all really good.”  She licked her lips. “I’ll eat it when I’m done with my steak if you don’t.” “How are you gonna fit it all in there?” Aunt Kristen laughed, cutting up her quail. Mom took a bite of her salad. “Just like when she was a baby. Can you try just one itty bitty bite before deciding you don’t want any? Pleeeease Rachel? For me?” “Yes, pleez, Rachel.” The waiter smiled. “Just one itty bitty bite?”  He pressed his thumb and forefinger together to emphasize how little of a bite he needed to be satisfied. Rachel grabbed her fork, stabbed some cheesy pasta and then put it into her mouth.  “There,” she said, her mouth still full of cheese. “Are you ha-?” Rachel stopped as the flavor hit her. Really hit her.  This was the best macaroni and cheese she had ever tasted. Quickly, before she could think better of it, she grabbed one of the chicken tenders and bit into it.  It was like having an orgasm in her taste buds! Her Mom pointed at Rachel with her fork from across the table. “Uh-oh!” she sang. “I think someone liiiikes it!” “This isn’t what I expected at all!” Rachel heard gushed. The lone other person in the restaurant gave a stiff bow, but didn’t try to conceal his own smug satisfaction “It rarely eez. Excuse ay moi.” “I…I…” Rachel stammered. God, she really needed a cigarette still, but for a much different reason.  “I gotta make a quick phone call!”  She grabbed her purse, slid out of the booth and power walked through the front door back into the mall parking lot so she could take a smoke break. “Holy shit,” Rachel cursed. “That was actually really good.” She was shaking her head to herself while she dug through her purse to get the cigarettes and a lighter.  She tossed the plastic wrapping over the box of cancer sticks in the nearest garbage can and stuck a fresh one in her mouth. “Excuse me!” A new voice called out.  “What are you doing?” “What’s it look like?” Rachel half-snarled. The sun had finished setting and Rachel’s eyes hadn’t fully adjusted to the parking lights. When she saw the man in uniform step out of the shadows she immediately changed her tune.  “Oh. I mean, ‘Hello Officer’. What can I do for you?” The policeman kept his hands on his hips, an annoyed parent ready to parent someone else’s child.  “I’m going to need to see some I.D. miss,” he said. “You look a little too young to be smoking.” Rachel controlled her indignation and reminded herself that this sort of thing would be a compliment at some point in the future. If she had been smoking illegally she wouldn’t be doing it in the open air next to a public garbage can and an ash tray!  “Of course. Here you are, sir.” The cop took her license and shined a tiny flashlight on it, squinting in much the same way that the clerk at the gas station had.  Rachel was used to that look in regards to her age.  It said ‘I don’t believe it so I’m looking for a reason to justify my disbelief.’ “His eyes lit up. Just as I thought!” He said, snatching the cigarette right from her lips. “You’re much too you-!” He sniffed and squeezed the cigarette he’d just taken. “What’s this?” Rachel was too shell shocked to figure out what was going on. “It’s…a cigarette? Which I’m allowed to have. Because I’m twenty-f-” “Yeah yeah,” the cop said, giving back the cigarette and her drivers’ license. “You can have these. Good joke.”  He shook his head, likely kicking himself for a mistake.  “Mind if I have one?” “Uh…sure?” Rachel said, flipping open her newly purchased pack and holding it out. The officer took one, but rather than asking for a light, he unwrapped it, tearing up the tightly wound paper.  Instead of ground up and lightly toasted tobacco flakes, inside of the cigarette was a stick of sticky brown candy. Rachel looked at the one she’d been handed back. It too, was now just a candy cigarette.  “I can’t believe they still make this stuff.” The cop popped his stick in his mouth and started chewing.  Rachel took a closer look at the pack.  There was the same camel logo on the front; same font too; but now that she took a closer look at it, Rachel distinctly noticed that there was the word ‘Caramel’ where the word ‘Camel’ was supposed to be.  After dinner, and after the mall, Rachel promised herself, she was going to go back to that gas station and give the clerk a dose of holy fucking hell that he wouldn’t believe.  She was also going to give Kendall such shit for this, also.  She’d been fooled, too! “Thank you for your concern, Officer,” Rachel said curtly. “Now if you excuse me, I have to get back to my family.” The cop waved her off and sent her away with “Okay, honey. Go find your family. Don’t let them worry too much, you hear.” “Yes, sir!” She called back without turning her head. She just wanted to finish dinner, get some free stuff from the mall, and then yell at an idiot for pulling an obvious prank on her. Then she’d get her cigarettes.  Rachel was so preoccupied that she stumbled over her own feet. She rocked back on her heels to compensate and weebled and wobbled for a second like she’d been struck by vertigo.   Her heels?  What had happened to her heels? Rachel had been wearing her favorite black dress and heels for dinner; she thought she had. When she looked down at her feet she was wearing flats. They still went with the dress, of course, but Rachel distinctly remembered wearing heels. Had she switched out after the graduation ceremony? She must have just been so on edge that she forgot and the unwanted presence of the nosey cop combined with the absolute fury of having to delay her nicotine addiction literally had her standing on tip toes and she was only just now noticing it! “How was your call?” Mom asked when Rachel returned. “It was fine.”  Rachel lied and took a bite of macaroni and cheese. The second bite was just as amazing as the first. If something as common as macky cheese and chicken tendies could be gourmet, this had to be it. She let out a little huff of indignation and let her frustration pass. “Just lining up job offers.” “Ooooh!” Mom did that thing she did where she pretended to look impressed. “Already? Just graduated and you already have some job offers? That’s my girl!” Rachel took the compliment as best as she was able and enjoyed another bite of fried chicken. She knew she’d had this conversation with her mother before, but saw no sense in calling her on it.  “Thanks.” She took another swig of champagne and then made a funny face. Something was off.  There was no burn beyond the bubbles this time. She drained the flute again, but didn’t get the mild rush of alcohol flooding her brain all at once.  “Is this stuff non-alcoholic?” “Uh, Rachel,” Mom said turning the bottle around. “Read the label.” Sure enough, the label on the bottle said, ‘Sparkling Grape Juice’.  “You didn’t really think we’d let you get hammered, did you?” Aunt Kristen joked. “We love ya, Rachel, but we don’t love ya that much.” “It’s still nice,” Kendall agreed. Gives the night a feeling of sophistication. Right, Rachel?” Kendall gave her one of those looks; the kind that said ‘shut up and just go with it’. Rachel poured herself another glass of the juice and topped it off.  How strange. She could have sworn that the first glass had been real champagne.  But her family wouldn’t go to this kind of trouble just to gaslight her.  “Okay. Then I get to drive home, how about that.”   “Not a problem with me,” Aunt Kristen conceded. “You okay with that, Jordan?” “Fine by me,” Mom agreed. “We carried these girls for years. After shopping, they can take us home.” “Good,” Rachel chirped. If she was driving she could pick which gas station to stop at. The rest of the meal went without incident, save for the fact that there was far too much macaroni and cheese on her plate. No matter how many gooey forkfuls she ate there always seemed to be more. It wasn’t actually magic, just disproportionate plating. The funny little waiter returned when most of the family was busy scraping their plates. “I have returned with ze check and…” he paused dramatically, “le doggy bag.”  He laid the check down in front of Mom and a to-go box in front of Rachel. Mom was quick on the draw with her credit card, causing the waiter to do an immediate about face to go charge them for the meal.   “How much was it?” Aunt Kristen asked.  “Don’t worry about it,” Mom said. “It was worth it.” Kendall burped. “It was totally worth it. Excuse me.” Rachel eyed the to-go box wearily. “Please don’t make me take that home.” Her belch wasn’t nearly as satisfied as her cousin’s. “It was delicious, but I definitely ate too much.”  Seriously! It was like her stomach had shrunk or something while she ate! “I gotcha!” Kendall giggled.  She stabbed a clump of macaroni and put it in her mouth. “Mmmmhmmm! That’s good!”  She wasted no time scooping the rest into the styrofoam container.  “This is gonna heat up real nice before bed.”  She popped another sticky clump into her mouth right before closing the box. Rachel hoped her cousin would like it just as much after the edible wore off. Mom clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Rachel always gets nightmares when she snacks before bed. Ever since she was little. Still does.” “Not Kendall,” Aunt Kristen said. “Just makes her sleep deeper.” The cousins shared knowing looks of commiseration yet again. How would either of them know their sleeping habits anymore? They’d both been out of their parents’ houses for years now. More evidence to prove that no matter how old they got, Rachel and Kendall would always just be their Mommies’ precious little girls with their hair up in ribbons and diapers covering their bottoms. The bill came back, Mom signed the receipt, and with a final exaggerated fleury, their host bid them adieu.  “Thank you very much,” he said, giving a low and respectful bow.  “If Percept-Shun eez Reality, then it ‘as been a pleasure serving vu! Congratulations on ‘aving graduated le high school!”  Rachel rolled her eyes as he shuffled away like a lanky penguin yet again. The guy had only one table to wait on and he couldn’t remember one simple detail.  Whatever. It wasn’t worth getting upset over. The family got up from the table and started moving towards the back entrance connected to the mall. “Seriously, what is that accent?” Kendall laughed to herself.  “Shhh!” Aunt Kristen hushed her. “You’re too loud! And it was Russian.” “Spanish,” Mom said again. “I keep telling you it’s Fr-” Rachel froze. The whole family did as a strange pop filled their ears stepping out of the restaurant and into the food court. It was the same popping pressure of being on an airplane. All four of them flinched.  “What was that?” “I don’t know.”  Mom rubbed at her ears and winced. “It’s so loud out here.” It was true. The restaurant may have been dead, but the mall was alive tonight. Music played and echoed from the high ceiling overhead. People gabbed to the sounds of fries being dropped in oil in the food court. Couples talked. Children squeaked and shrieked whilst their parents and older siblings dragged them along. The young stood in clumps, not talking and looking at their phones while the elderly shuffled along because they were exercising more than shopping.   “I think it’s the acoustics,” Aunt Kristen surmised. “I bet Percept-Shun”, she lowered her voice in a bad impression of every Russian bad guy in an action movie ever, “blew all of its money on sound proofing or something. For…what is word…? Atmosphere?” “That’s not what he sounded like,” Mom laughed. “It was more like-” “Mom?” Kendall interrupted. “Auntie Jordan?  Look! Turn around and look!” Rachel, her mom and aunt all followed the sound of Kendall’s voice. She was standing with the door open, peaking in, and on the other side of it, was a very busy restaurant. It had been dead and abandoned literally seconds before, and now it looked like it was in the middle of a dinner rush. The host was there waiting for them when they retraced their steps back inside.  “I’m sorry. Did you forget something?” “This place was dead just a second ago!” Rachel crowed in disbelief. “Where did all these people come from?” The funny little man smiled and played with his mustache. “From outside in the parking lot, same as you.” He gave a playful wink. “Au revoir!”  A wave of his hand and the four of them were back in the food court.   No flying. No sense of movement. Just a wave of the older man’s hand and suddenly all four of them were back out of the restaurant and facing out like they had just left. “Holy crap!” Rachel gasped, feeling dizzy. Had she just been teleported? Hypnotized perhaps? “Magic! This place is magic!” “Language,” Mom said. “Though you’re right. He clearly is a very talented chef and magician.” Rachel stared at her mother like she’d just grown a second head. “No, I mean like magic magic!” She couldn’t come up with any other explanation.  “Quick!” She turned to go. “Wait for me here and tell me what happens when I come back!”  Would she pop up out of nowhere? Or would she just run out and forget like in Severance? “It was a very neat trick,” Mom agreed, “but I think it would be rude to go back and pester him. Let him do his magic in peace and do some post grad shopping!” “Shopping?” Rachel nearly screamed. “Who cares about shopping? That was amazing!” Aunt Kristen leaned over and whispered no-so-quietly in Mom’s ear. “Told you she’s not ready to move out, Jordan.” “Seriously, Aunt Kristen?” Rachel glared at her. “I’m not moving back in.” If Aunt Kristen had been sipping water she would have done a spit take then and there.  “Just graduated and thinks she’s grown!” Mom shot Rachel a dirty look she hadn’t seen in years. “We’re going to have a talk about this when we get home…”  Kendall gently grabbed Rachel by the elbow and pivoted her around. “Come on, Cuz, lemme buy you a graduation gift!” Her smile was forced. As usual, Kendall was trying to be the peacemaker. “We’ll be back in a minute,” she called over her shoulder. “Let me have some quality time, y’know?”    The cousins walked away and blended into the steady trickle of people going in and out of the mall the way sea animals ride currents. “Thanks,” Rachel said when the moment had passed.  “Don’t worry about it,” Kendall assured her. “And I’m sorry. My Mom can be such an ass.” Rachel let herself be guided out of the mall’s walkway, following her cousin and the conversation more than where they were going. The dresses and outfits along the periphery were a clear hint that they were in some sort of clothing retailer.  That was a good idea; browsing through racks of clothing while ranting about their mothers’ disrespect was an excellent way to vent some frustrations.  Rachel started idly swiping through racks of clothes.  “My mom is, too. I hate how they treat us like we’re still kids. Like, realistically I know it’s probably just an illusion! That doesn’t make it wrong for me to want to poke at it a little bit, right? I’m not going crazy, am I?”  Kendall audibly sucked on her teeth. “Whelp, I hate to be the one to spoil it, Rachel, but now that you’re an adult it’s not going to get any better. I thought they’d stop when I turned eighteen, but four years later and the streak remains strong. Our mothers are crazy!” Rachel laughed. Her younger cousin had a dry sense of humor, alright! Wisdom from the mouth of babes and all that. Kendall was the younger cousin, but the older soul and times like this reminded Rachel of that.  “Believe me, Kendall. I know.” She playfully rolled her eyes. “I’ve technically suffered through it longer than you have.” The edible Kendall took must have been quite potent indeed from how hard she laughed. For a second Rachel worried that Kendall was going to pee herself.  Her reaction was so funny that Rachel joined in. Passerby and clerks alike paused briefly watching the two twenty-something’s keel over with laughter. But eventually, the pair calmed down and they both voiced the same thought. “Why are you laughing?” Rachel answered first. “Because I’m older than you and you’re talking like you’re the wise old sage.” “I was about to say the same thing,” Kendall snorted. “Good luck getting that degree in finance with math skills like that.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Rachel blanched. “Newsflash Miss High School Graduate, Twenty-two is greater than eighteen.” Rachel frowned. Was Kendall trying to gaslight her? Or was this an indirect joke at how she looked young for her age? Or a callback to the funny little man at Percept-Shun getting the nature of the graduation wrong.   Since jokes are essentially just surprising and amusing lies Rachel decided to deflate Kendall’s joke with the cold hard truth.  “Ha-ha.” She said digging her driver’s license out of her purse. “Read it and weep. I’m-” “Eighteen,” Kendall shoved Rachel’s license back into her face. “Or can you not math anymore?   Rachel’s eyes focused back at her own picture. She read her own birthdate. Except it was wrong. According to the numbers beneath her picture, she’d been born six years later than she actually had been. She snatched it back from Kendall and squinted at it, not believing her own eyes. “What? The?” “Excuse me, ladies,” a woman who looked to be in her late thirties approached them. “Can I help you find anything?”  “No,” Kendall said. “My little cousin and I are just browsing. I’m getting her a graduation gift.” Rachel was too busy staring at the mis-dated card to take much umbrage with what Kendall was saying.  “How did…?” “Well if you’re having trouble finding anything in her size, our Junior Miss section is on the other side of the store.”   Junior? Miss? Like a children’s section? Really?!  It had been a good while since she’d been mistaken for a literal child, but the annoying sting was no less potent. Before words of indignation could burble up out from her throat, the air seemed to grow heavy and thick. There in her hand, Rachel’s driver’s license melted and formed and reshaped itself.  It was like the printed words were liquified and wiped away, replaced by new ones.  Her picture and name remained, but everything else changed. Her license number was replaced with a Student ID number. Instead of her birthdate, was just a marker indicating that she was in Eighth-Grade. Instead of the state seal, at the top were the words “Ponce De Leon Middle School”. Rachel screamed and dropped the plastic rectangle like it was a piece of burning coal. Adrenaline, more than magic, made the card seem to plummet in slow motion, but the effect was still there.  “Rachel,” Kendall rolled her eyes. “Just because you still have your middle school ID doesn’t mean you’re still a middle schooler.  Trust me. Starting next fall you’ll be a freshman.” Rachel didn’t react to Kendall’s words. Truth be told her brain hadn’t fully comprehended them. Her ears picked up the sound but they didn’t truly listen. All of her brain’s processing power was suddenly being directed at the impossible stimuli that was happening right on top of her body. She watched the hem of her dress creep up from her ankles to just below her knees. She witnessed the color draining out like water in a bathtub, leaving the fabric white as driven snow. She felt her pantyhose slip down off her hips and coalesce as dress socks around her ankles. A shudder rippled down through her as a head band manifested atop her head and her purse melted away into nothingness right off of her shoulder.  “Magic!” Rachel gasped. “It really is magic!” This was exactly the sort of outfit that she was forced to wear on special occasions; back before Mom gave her more autonomy on what to wear.  “Uh, no.” Kendall said. “That’s just how the school system works. She puffed through her nose and smirked. “Kids, amiright?”   The thirty-something clerk laughed politely, unsure of whether to say something or not. Rachel didn’t understand everything that was happening, but some things clicked instantly. First among these realizations was that both the stranger and her cousin didn’t notice the physical changes happening right in front of them. It could be understandable if they didn’t notice the subtle shifts of words and print on a rectangular piece of plastic, but they’d have to be blind to miss the changes to her clothing, especially the color shift from black to white. The second thing that clicked was that everyone was seeing and remembering her as much younger than she actually was. That’s why Kendall was going from following Rachel’s lead to becoming the sage older sibling type and why the sales associate was pointing her to the middle schooler section.  The final thing was that Rachel’s clothing was changing, but her physical body wasn’t.  She’d always been on the petite side and had a case of babyface but she had in fact grown between middle school and graduating college with her Master’s Degree. Her breasts, while never particularly large, weren’t sinking back into her chest, and she wasn’t losing anything in her hips. The ceiling wasn’t getting any higher and the only thing that was shrinking at present was her hemline.   In the back of her mind, Rachel suddenly appreciated why ancient peoples appealed to magical thinking so often. Magic really made the most sense when the world did it, and nothing else was making sense at the moment.  Oh, and one other thing was changing: She was being perceived as younger and younger. Just a few minutes ago she was an eighteen year old high school graduate. Suddenly she was a promoted eighth grader for the summer and a freshly minted freshman come fall. “So where are the youth sizes?”  Kendall asked the sales woman, thinking nothing was out of the ordinary. “No.” Rachel heard herself say. “Hm?” Kendall looked over. “What’s up, Cuz?” “No!” Rachel shrieked and took off running. She felt Kendall’s finger trips craze her, the magically older-ish girl trying on instinct to stop her. Rachel streaked ahead, bobbing and weaving through shoppers like the hounds of hell were chasing her through traffic. “Move! Move! Move!” “Rachel!” Kendall called after her. “Stop! Where are you going?” She looked right and left, this way and that, but adrenaline and disorientation were taking their toll on her sense of direction. She had to get back to that restaurant! That was when things started changing!  She had been wearing heels! She had been sipping champagne! They changed into flats and the champagne into juice because Mom wouldn’t let her wear heels before college and everyone had thought she’d been too young to drink! Oh, why hadn’t she paid attention to where Kendall was leading her? Or maybe it was the cigarettes! They’d been changed, too, and the gas station attendant had been the first person tonight to question her age! But who ever heard of a magical gas station attendant? A magical restaurant made much more sense! WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?! Rachel felt her foot catch on something and she tripped and skidded along the cold mall floor. She grimaced and pushed herself up on her forearms and then climbed to her feet. “RACHEL!” Kendall screamed, sounding terrified from across the busy hallway. “Oops!” A woman old enough to be Rachel’s grandmother asked. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Rachel thought fast. “Yes, ma’am. Could you please help me? I’m trying to meet my family over in the food court. Could you please point me in the right direction so I can be on my way?” A knowing smile came across the woman’s wrinkled old face. “Oh? Went on a little adventure, did you?” “Rachel!” Kendall stormed up and placed herself between Rachel and the old woman tut-tutting over Rachel’s spill.  She gripped her cousin by the shoulders. “Don’t you ever do that, again. Do you understand? I said first we do some shopping for me, then you get your big girl toy.” Still keeping herself between Rachel and the old woman, Kendall turned around. “I’m sorry. My little cousin got away from me!” “Oh no trouble at all,” the elderly woman chuckled. “We were all young once, weren’t we?” She gestured to the nearest shop. Rachel had taken her tumble and skidded to a stop right in front of the toy store. Kids from pre-k to elementary school age were milling in and out like ants on cocaine, with tired parents shuffling tiredly behind them. “Who doesn’t like a good toy?” “Me!” Rachel said as a matter of reflex. She wasn’t thinking rationally, but then again this wasn’t a particularly rational situation.  “Kendall!” she realized too late. “Take me back to the restaurant! I…I…I left something there!” “She’s certainly very precocious,” the old bystander commented. “Yeah,” Kendall agreed, trying to get the busy body to move on. “She’s always been very old for her age. Sorry again if she bothered you.” “Oh she didn’t. I’m just glad to see that she’s got such a good babysitter.” She pointed at Rachel’s feet. “Could use a little help tying her shoes, though.” Both young women looked at Rachel’s feet.  “Hm?” Kendall said. “Oh! That explains a lot!”  Rachel felt her lungs seize up and her breath hitch. Her flats had just finished melting and remolding themselves into bright white sneakers; laces untied. Light blue polka dots sprouted across her dress. Her sleeves and socks got frillier, and the hem of her dress got shorter, now just above her knees. The clothing folded and rearranged itself in a way that concealed Rachel’s breasts and where there had once been a modest v-neck a full peter pan collar blossomed and surrounded her neck.  Not noticing the change, Kendall bent down to one knee and started tying Rachel’s shoe laces like it was her responsibility. Rachel’s hand went up to the top of her head and patted the big floppy bow where the simple headband once was.  “I hope one of the first things they teach you in Kindergarten is to tie these darn things.” Kendall said. Then she muttered, “shoulda stuck to Velcro.”  Rachel felt her pulse pound inside her ears. In a matter of seconds, she’d just gone from just graduating middle school to not yet a kindergartener!  “Holy shi-!” She gasped and stopped herself. Her throat closed up and a deep sense of electric shame blanketed her skin.   Kendall stopped tying Rachel’s shoes. “How do you know that word?” Rachel spun around and took off running. It was getting worse! The changes were affecting more than just her clothing!  She’d said a naughty word! She’d cursed and it felt like breaking a sacred taboo! She was no longer socially invisible; not just a random shopper hustling and bustling through a shopping center. Heads were turning. Fingers were pointing. To everyone but herself, Rachel  was a little girl sprinting away from her baby sitter. “Rachel!” Kendall called out. “Stop! You’re going the wrong way! Our moms are that way! Don’t you want to see them?” That was a trick! Something to make a small child pause! Rachel wasn’t going to fall for that! She took a hard right at the nearest entrance, determined to lose her younger/bigger cousin. Luck was not on her side, however. The very next opening was the men’s restroom.  A chorus of “What the-?” echoed off the tiles as the biggest little girl anyone had ever seen stumbled in. Momentum and adrenaline carried her deeper into the forbidden territory instead of out of it. A teenager washing his hands pretended not to notice. A middle aged guy zipping up looked expectantly towards the bathroom entrance. A guy Rachel’s age (her real age that is) eyed the stall she ultimately went and hid in. Holy shit! She was regressing! Why was she regressing?  Magic, obviously, but why her and why now?  Was it the macky cheese and chicken tendies?  Rachel shook the intrusive thoughts out of her head. “Ffffffff….!” She couldn’t swear! She knew how, but saying it out loud, nay, even consciously thinking it, felt like loading a gun, pointing it at her mother’s heart, and pulling the trigger.  “Excuse me,” Kendall’s voice could be heard as soon as she entered. “Did a little girl-?” “In there,” a masculine voice said.   “Sorry!” “Don’t worry about it.” “Rachel?” Kendall’s feet positioned themselves directly in front of the stall. “You okay, big girl?” Every hair on Rachel’s body bristled at being called that. It was annoying but normal when Mom or Aunt Kristen did it. But to imply that the authority gulf between her and Kendall was as wide as the authority gulf between Kendall and their mothers was crossing a line.  “Don’t call me that.” “Did you have an accident?” Rachel’s eyes widened. Did she? Would she even know?  She lifted up the hem of her dress. She had a pair of tight fitting shorts beneath her increasingly childish dress. She was suddenly too young to be trusted not to flash her underwear when she bent over. She pulled the front of her waistband out. Her panties hadn’t had Dora The Explorer on them when she’d put them on this morning. No wet spots, though.  Good.  “No.”  “Then what are you doing in the potty room, silly?” Kendall forced a giggle. She was doing a good job of pretending to be amused but Rachel knew all of her tells. She’d literally know the girl all of her life.   “I want to go back to the restaurant,” Rachel said, barely resisting the urge to stomp her foot.  “I want to talk to the man with the French accent.” “Okay, one,” Kendall said, “he was trying to be Russian. And two, gimme-gimme-never gets. You know better than to run away. Now come on, kiddo.” Rachel’s eyes started to tear up. This wasn’t fair! This wasn’t right! Magic was real, but if it was there had to be some sort of rule to it. She needed to find a way to fix it. She was dressed like a preschooler and she could be perceived as younger any minute, and the only lead she had was getting back into that man’s restaurant and apologizing or something! On top of all of that she still wanted a cigarette, but she knew that would get her nothing but a condescending snort. She wanted an ease to her suffering. She wanted to feel safe, if not in control.  She wanted to feel like she was listened to and special. The words all came out like one might expect they would. “I want my Mommy!” Kendall’s soft, reassuring voice answered back. “I already texted her. She’s on her way.” It was an uncomfortable thirty seconds before Mom walked in. Toilets flushed. Sinks were turned on. Kendall quietly said “Sorry. It’s my little cousin,” half a dozen times. “I got this,” Mom whispered. Then she spoke more loudly. “Rachel? What’s the matter, sweetie? Did you have an accident?” Gosh darn it her mother could be so patronizingly patient. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” “Can you try to explain for me? There are a lot of nice people who are being very patient with us, but that doesn’t mean we should take advantage of that.” Rachel’s lips flapped as she huffed air out. Why not? What is the worst that could happen? “The restaurant we went to was magic,” she spoke as plainly and as calmly as she could. “Ever since we left it, my clothes have been changing and people have been treating me younger and younger!” “The restaurant we went to was magic,” Mom agreed- though clearly not understanding Rachel’s meaning, “but nobody thinks you’re a baby. You haven’t needed me to change you in a long, long time. You’re my big girl.” Rachel wanted to smack her forehead in exasperation. Mom had heard her and taken all the wrong inferences. The worst part was that it was hard for Rachel to imagine her mother speaking to her literally any other way.   “That’s not what I mea-?” “Went into the wrong bathroom, huh?” An old gravely voice piped in. Some people evidently didn’t want to wait outside or had never left. He chuckled, “When mine were potty training they got into shenanigans too. Don’t worry, it’ll pass.” Rachel’s clothes changed again. The laces in her sneakers melted into Velcro straps, and her shorts and socks connected, turning into pink leggings. The light blue polka dots changed to pink and bled out into a solid cover with white trim. Her face drooped when she felt her underwear shift. She hadn’t noticed when her panties turned more juvenile a moment ago, but suddenly they felt noticeably thicker. It was like reality itself had slipped in an extra thick period pad straight into her pants.  Rachel’s mouth felt uncomfortably dry. It was highly unlikely she was just wearing period panties given the direction things were headed in. Mom opened the door to the bathroom stall. “There you are!”  Either reality was shifting to further her embarrassment or she’d been so panicked she’d actually forgotten to lock the stall door. “If you have to go potty, you gotta wait for your cousin!” She laughed, her eyes filled with patience and love.  Rachel’s eyes settled on Mom’s shoulder. Something had been added to her outfit. A pink teddy bear shaped backpack. Rachel’s pink teddy bear backpack. This was more than just obvious deduction. Perhaps it was the same regressive force that was prodding at Rachel to think of her mother as ‘Mommy’ and to be afraid of swearing. Or maybe it was because her brain was looking for patterns; all of her clothes had become more juvenile equivalents of themselves. So it was reasonable to assume that her purse had mutated into a toddler’s backpack. Regardless of the cause, Rachel felt a deep sense of familiarity and ownership towards it. Perhaps she had something similar when she was a young child. “Mommy!” Rachel gasped. “It’s not what you think!” Mom ignored her and took a knee. Instead of going to tie Rachel’s shoes, her hands went for the sides of Rachel’s leggings and yanked them down.  Rachel stood there, powerless and mortified. She was wearing a pull-up! She’d somehow been demoted to a potty training toddler! Feeling it was one thing, but seeing the pink padding on her body like that made it realer than real!  “Hmmm…” Mom stared at Rachel’s crotch for an uncomfortable length of time, (read: any). “Your decorations haven’t disappeared…” She slipped her fingers past the pull-up’s leak guard and felt around, just to be sure. Rachel was so shocked she almost bit her tongue.  “Turn around.” Rachel’s body turned around on its own. She felt dazed and stunned. Doing what she was told suddenly felt easier than thinking about how scary and ridiculous things were getting. Not to say that she lacked free will; it was more like a kind of tired muscle memory. Her body was just suddenly used to following Mommy’s instructions like a good girl. Her entire spine stiffened when she felt Mommy’s finger hook into the back of her pull-up so that she could take a peek inside. “No poopies either,” she pronounced.  “Good girl.” Rachel waited for her mother to hike her leggings back up over the pull-up. Looking down she could notice the slight padded bulge between her legs. Whatever the opposite of camel toe was, she now had it. Her dress had gotten shorter, too. Pretty much any way she moved would involve people getting a look at her covered butt.  She turned around and tried to look her mother in the eye.  “I know, Mommy, but-” “Did you already go potty?” Mommy interrupted. “No, Mommy, but-”   “Do you need to go potty?” “Not right now, Mommy, but-” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure, but-” Mom stood up and grabbed Rachel’s wrist.  “Then let’s get back to shopping.” Rachel looked past her mother and into the nearly empty restroom. Past here would be people. Hundreds of people! And every one of them would see her, dressed up like a potty training toddler!  It didn’t matter to her that none of them would see anything wrong about it; she didn’t want to be seen like this! The twenty-four year old dug her heels in and leaned back with all of her might. It didn’t help any. In addition to her clothing, temperament, and people’s perception of her, reality seemed to be warping to reinforce her reduced status. Mommy was disproportionately strong all of a sudden and had no trouble dragging Rachel along. For all intents and purposes, Rachel was a potty training toddler. “Sorry,” she apologized to the men outside. “Sorry.  We’re new to this.”  That got some good natured laughs from the impromptu audience. When they were out, Mom squared Rachel’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “Honey I know when we’re at home you can use any potty you want, but in public boys and girls use separate bathrooms.” Before Rachel could so much as roll her eyes or change the subject, Mommy piled on. No, I don’t know why. Yes, I think it’s silly. Sorry, those are just the rules.” Rachel felt her cheeks warm up. Being talked to like she was a two year old that didn’t quite understand how public bathrooms didn’t work was very off putting, but also Rachel had the distinct feeling that her mother had given her this talk before. Nothing specific, just a strange sense of deja vu. Core memory unlocked, and all that.  “Yes…Mommy.” Aunt Kristen came trotting up. Kendall was right behind her.  “Got her out?” Aunt Kristen asked. “Good.” “Yeah,” Mom said. “I think someone just got a little excited and wanted to check out the bathrooms again.”  “Any accidents?” Aunt Kristen talked about Rachel as if Rachel was barely there. Rachel wished that had been unusual but it wasn’t.  Mom patted the pink teddy bear backpack still hanging off her shoulder. “None so far. First day out of diapers, and no accidents, yet!” Rachel almost vomited. When she woke up this morning she was about to be presented with a diploma signifying her Master’s Degree in finance. She’d just been knocked all the way back to the very beginning of potty training! “I remember when Kendall was potty training. One time we were on a long road trip and I kept telling her ‘It’s okay if you go in your pull-up’, but she held it all the way through!” Mom let the teddy bear shaped backpack slip off her shoulder. “Oh yes! I remember those days! She was always so big for her age and so mature! Like she just couldn’t wait to grow up! Rachel sure has a great role model, doesn’t she?” Both young women blushed.  Rachel was now seen as the younger one constantly playing catch up, and Kendall was the benchmark to be measured against. It didn’t matter that they were perceived as being at two vastly different points in their life. Potty training or doctor training, it was all the same to their parents. The more things changed, the more they were fucking infuriating. “Yeah,” Kendall chirped. “Sooo…anyway? I think I found some outfits that I’d look really good in.”  She pointed back over to the store Rachel had run away from. Not the toy store, the fashion outlet.  “Shall we commence?” “Sure,”  Mom said. “Just give us a second to catch up.”  She started slipping Rachel’s arms through the backpack loops. “What are you-?” Rachel began to ask, but Mom cut her off. “Ah-ah-ah!” Mom said. “We tried letting you go with your Cousin Kendall, but you just ran away, remember?”  There was an extra bit of material, like two ends of a seatbelt, hanging off the harm loops of the backpack.  Mom snapped them together. The literal click made something click into place for Rachel, too.   This was more than just a backpack; it was a toddler leash, too. Her body automatically felt relaxed and accustomed to the weight. It took her less than a second to guess that the fluffy pink bear unzipped to reveal matching pink pull-ups, baby wipes, and an extra set of clothes. Rachel was now tethered to her mother, forced to lug around her own diaper bag. “Let’s go help your cousin pick out some pretty outfits,” Mom said. “She just graduated from college and will be going to med school. She’s a big girl too, so we need to be supportive.” Rachel had no choice but to accept this (hopefully) momentary limitation, but she couldn’t let her fears and needs go unvoiced. If she could just get back to that restaurant and talk with magical man…  “Mom, can we-?” “Ah-ah-ah,” Mommy cut her off again. “No whining. You don’t want people to think you’re a baby, do you?” Rachel made a face. She genuinely didn’t want people to think she was a baby; that was literally her problem currently, but some deep semi-instinctual drive made the idea even less appealing. She’d take death by a thousand tiny blood draining needles before even a single solitary soul ever thought she was a baby! “Eeeeew! No! I’m not a baby!” Mommy smoothed out some wrinkles on her dress. “Then be a big girl and act like it. Because if you’re so busy whining and crying and running away, what are people supposed to expect? They won’t think you’re a big girl, they’ll just think you’re a baby! And we don’t want that, do we?” The final piece of the puzzle finally fit into the missing part of Rachel’s brain.  “What did you say?”  “I said that if you act like a baby, people will want to treat you like one.” That wasn’t what she had said but it was close enough. What had the little man at the restaurant said? “Perception is reality”?   Rachel’s macky cheese and chicken tendies…errr…her macaroni and cheese with fried chicken fillets had been labeled ‘About What You Would Expect’. The magic of the place meddled with people’s perceptions and so did the food!  All of her life, Rachel had been regularly mistaken for younger than her actual age, and the magic was making all assumptions about her true! The cop had thought she was eighteen and trying to smoke a cigarette, and the magic had altered her driver’s license, shoes, and champagne to match. Then when she was mistaken for a middle schooler, her clothing and ID shifted to match. It made sense that a little girl would be running and screeching towards a toy store, and she looked so pathetic on the floor asking that old woman to help, passerby likely assumed she was a lost little girl crying for her Mommy. Running away into the men’s room only threw some grandpas into nostalgia mode, and now she was kicked back to Day 1 pull-ups! Reality was twisting itself into knots to conform to outsider expectations! There were no corrections or ‘no buts’; only ‘yes ands’. Whatever people expected her to be seen as and treated like instantly became fact.  Rachel knew what to do.  “Yes, Mommy,” she said as sweetly and politely as she could. “I’ll be good.”  If she wanted to be treated older, she had to act the part, literally. Mother and daughter walked back to the clothing store. Rachel kept pace with her mother, not needing to hold her hand, but not tugging at the toddler leash.  “Hello,” the same sales clerk from before said. “Shopping for yourself or someone else?”  She no longer paid any mind to Rachel. In her eyes, Rachel was too young for even the store’s Junior Miss section. Mom pointed over to Aunt Kristen and Kendall going through racks of clothing. “We’re with them.” “Wonderful!” the lady said. “Though if you’re also looking for something for yourself, I think we have some things that you’d look really good in.”  Rachel blanched. Was…was her mother being hit on by a stranger? Gross! Then Rachel remembered that Mommy’s dish was entitled ‘One Hot Mama’. Still gross! Rachel did her best not to react. There was no need to draw attention to herself. So far attention had been nothing but a bad thing. “Mommy?” Rachel asked once the clerk realized she was getting neither a sale nor a phone number. “May I ask you for a favor? A slight indulgence if you will?” Mom tilted her head to the side. “Of course, big girl? What is it?” Rachel bit her lip. “Would it be possible…” she tried to sound as sophisticated as she could, “...would it be possible for us to return to the restaurant in the food court that we dined in earlier this evening?  I don’t require a full meal, or even dessert. I just wish to ask the host a query.”  That was as mature sounding and grown-up as Rachel could think to phrase her request. She didn’t know why, but she also slipped into a bit of a fake English accent by accident.  The attempt got her literally nothing. Her dress did not lengthen; her leash did not dissolve; her pull-ups were still very much pull-ups (Whichever advertiser said pull-ups felt more like real underwear was lying through their teeth). Mom seemed to grasp everything Rachel was saying, but nothing was changing her mother’s perception of her. She was still Mommy’s little girl. Mommy only responded with the soft death blow of replies. “We’ll see. Just be patient.”  They weren’t planning to go back, and Rachel’s behavior was being used as the gauge to justify the decision. Rachel wanted to scream, but that likely would have somehow gotten her mistaken for a newborn or something. Maybe her family wasn’t the key. Maybe everyone else was. None of the misconceptions turned facts happened because of something her family members had said. Some stranger would just make an incorrect judgement and her family would go along with it.  They couldn’t guess, because they already ‘knew’ her.  They had no expectations, only altered memories. The toddlerized woman looked down at her backpack harness. Perhaps if she could find a way to slip out and ask a stranger for aid. Perhaps she could use her superior vocabulary to convince strangers she was older than they thought she was and work her way up to at least grade schooler so she could walk around without escort? Rachel shook her head to herself, feeling the big floppy bow add too much wind resistance for her comfort. Trying to escape would be mistaken for throwing a tantrum and result in her being treated even younger.  There was no way a kid just starting to transition out of diapers would go unnoticed walking around a mall looking for the food court. She didn’t even have the stealth advantage since nothing about her body was actually getting smaller. She was the world’s largest, most developed three year old and everyone could see her. “Look at that cutie!” A shopper said to their partner passing by. “So precious!” “I love that backpack! We should get you one!” This would be harder than she thought. She bounced around on the balls of her feet, waiting and waiting, trying to be both quiet and mature enough so that someone might mistake her for a kindergartener or something; which was quite the challenge with the obvious padding underneath her leggings.  She wanted to be a good girl and for her earlier freakout to be dismissed as a bit of toddlerish whimsy that could be forgiven and forgotten so that she would get a second chance and get taken back to undo all of this mess.  It was really the only play she thought she had. Perhaps it was the existential dread, the humiliation, or just that her patience was regressing along with her wardrobe, but Cousin Kendall was taking forever. She had a bunch of outfits on hangers but hadn’t stepped into the changing room to try any of them on. She ground her teeth and deeply wished for a cigarette…that or her cell phone…or her tablet. “Rachel?” Mom snapped her back to attention. “You okay honey? You’re bouncing around a bit. Did you need to go potty?” Rachel froze. She’d been shifting back and forth on the balls of her feet without realizing it; but she wasn’t doing any kind of potty dance; just staving off a nervous breakdown.  “No,” she said. “I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” Mom questioned her. The faintest hint of uncertainty came to Rachel. “Yes…?” Mom saw that as an opening. “Do you want to go try?” Being rushed off to the bathroom to have her mother place her on the potty would only worsen her situation, not improve it. “I’m okay.” Rachel insisted. “Okay…” Mommy sighed, clearly not believing Rachel.  “But just so you know, if you had an accident there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” A dull warmth started trickling into Rachel’s disposable training panties. She hadn’t felt it coming until the warm dampness was already pressing against her.  She let out a quiet gasp and struggled to keep her bottom lip from quivering. Apparently there was at least one expectation that reality would twist around on her on her mother’s behalf: The expectation that she needed pull-ups. “I’m fine,” Rachel lied to herself. “This is fine. It’ll all go away when this is over. No one will remember but me. Or if they do, they won’t blame me because it’s magic.” “What was that, honey?” Mommy asked. “Do you need to go potty?” “No!” Mommy chuckled quietly to herself. “Alright. Suit yourself.”   Then the nail in the coffin was jammed in.  “Mommy! Mommy!” A high pitched voice called out. “Look! A baby!” It wasn’t the kid’s fault. She looked like she was four. Maybe five. That preschool/kindergarten age where everyone younger than you was a baby.  She was just a passerby; one-half of another mother/daughter pair with a limited vocabulary trying to talk about something for teh sake of talking.   She wasn’t a parent or an older sibling. She had no reason to differentiate between “toddler” and “baby”. She had no reason to distinguish between pull-ups or diapers or stages of development or potty training. And after she put that perception out into the world there was absolutely no reason to make such a distinction. Her pull-ups ballooned and thickened, and not just from the pulp inside absorbing her accident. The leggings merged with the material from the pull-up, making it even bulkier than before. The pull-ups commercials were correct. Diapers felt nothing like regular underwear and this proved it.  She was wearing a wet diaper now. The bright blue wetness indicator between her legs gave proof to that.  Her dress didn’t get any shorter, but it did an even poorer job of covering it up.  Babies didn’t really need modesty or embarrassment, their Mommies and Daddies only required easy access to check and change them as needed. The big floppy bow in her hair transmuted into ribbons and her locks were separated into two puffy pigtails at the top of her head, no longer trusted not to tug and chew at her own hair if it got into her face or to maintain something as ornate. Her backpack misted directly off of her and onto Mommy’s shoulder. She was now seen as so young she couldn’t even be allowed to carry around her own diaper bag.  Potty training had never even started for her, now.  Finally, a pacifier and string magically manifested on Rachel’s collar, dangling and flaccid like all of her hopes and ambitions thus far. “Sorry,” the other mother apologized for her genuine child. “She’s going through a bit of a phase.” Mommy accepted the apology on Rachel’s behalf. “Perfectly fine.” “Say ‘bye-bye’, Kimmy!” The little girl gave an exaggerated wave. “Bye-bye, baby!”  Rachel started to swear. “Fffffff-!”  Something stopped her, however, and it wasn’t the looming fear that she might have lost her ability to speak.  A low, growling, grumbling in her tummy. Uh oh. Everything went on auto-pilot: Her knees bent. Her breathing slowed. Her eyes unfocused. She pushed, and felt nothing but satisfaction when she felt her cheeks spreading and the first bits of lumpy, clay-like feces start falling out of her and into the back of her Huggies.  There was slight discomfort when it hit the back and started mashing up and pushing back against her bowels, but that only made her have to push a little harder to get the job done. It still got done, though. “Rachel?” Mommy asked. “Rachel, are you okay, big girl?” Big girl? She was shamelessly filling her pants in public and her mother still wanted to address her by that idiotic pet name? That at least showed how little the title meant.  “Ooooh, I know what that face means…” Rachel’s body felt no shame in the act. As far as her body was concerned this was as easy and practiced as if she’d gone into the quietest most isolated toilet in the universe, done her business, wiped, flushed and gone on with her life. Infused muscle memory, something bordering on instinct, assured her that it had held up its end of the bargain. No. Shame only came when the poor young woman lost her balance and fell seat first onto the floor, spreading the warm mess around even more.   “Uh oh…” Mommy said, already unzipping Rachel’s diaper bag. Rachel’s lip quivered. Her pupils dilated. Her lungs stopped, and then took a deep breath to recalibrate.  “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” She wailed. Just like that, she was up off the ground and awkwardly in her Mommy’s arms. “It’s okay, big girl. It’s okay.  Mommy’s got you.  Mommy’s got you.”   Rachel’s legs wrapped around her waist while she sobbed and laid most of her weight over Mommy’s shoulder.  It was nothing to her mother couldn’t handle. She was just carrying the lankiest one year old ever.  “It’s okay,” she patted and rubbed her woman-child’s back. “You just a had a little fall. Just a little fall.”  Rachel heard her sniff. “Yeah. Let’s go get that taken care of.” She cupped her free hand and called out to Aunt Kristen.  “Going for a diaper change!”  That naturally made Rachel cry harder. “Got it!” Aunt Kristen called back. “Good luck, Auntie Jordan,” Kendall joked. She’d lost all sense of solidarity with Rachel now that she was far and away the oldest cousin. Growing up together and one already being grown just created a different relationship dynamic; an all-but nonexistent one between the baby of the family and the young woman on her way to becoming a doctor. Rachel didn’t even try words. She just kept screaming and crying all the way into the Ladies’ bathroom.   “It’s okay.” Mommy tried to shush her. “Mommy will make it better.” Would she?  Rachel wanted to believe her, part of her needed to, but nothing that had happened so far gave her cause for hope.  Everyone in the entire mall saw her, the crying girl in the stinky diaper being carried into the bathroom to get changed.  How were any of them going to perceive her as being as old as she actually was?  Was she going to have to get stuck in a car seat or have a changing table break under her weight for that to happen? Even that meager hope was wiped out upon Mommy carrying her into the restroom. The second she pulled down the Koala Kara changing station just by the paper towel dispenser, Rachel watched as tile, plastic, steel and nylon all stretched and warped then and there to accommodate the bigger baby in her mother’s arm.  It was so quick and deceptively subtle that no one else in the women’s room reacted.  The changing station had always been that big, just like Rachel had always been in diapers. “Down you go!” Mommy cooed. The table creaked slightly, but it did not sag under her weight. It groaned from years of regular use, not from any strain she imposed. She was as light as a feather to her Mommy and was no different to the table. Mommy pulled the safety strap over Rachel’s chest. “Gotta keep you still, Lil’ Miss Wiggly!” she sand booped Rachel on the nose. “Boop!” As a matter of principle, she tried to unfasten the safety strap.  It was no use.  Her shoulders were pinned down like Thor’s hammer had been placed on her chest, and her hands went numb and stupid as soon as they were within six inches of the release mechanism. It was just as bad as Rachel imagined: Anything a baby couldn’t be expected to do equally limited Rachel.  “Mommeeeee!” She whined, but was afraid to say more. Better to wonder if she’d been reduced to a babbler than to speak and confirm it.   “I know, I know,” Mommy tutted. “You don’t wanna lie down and get your diaper changed. Mommy’s big girl just wants to run around and play like her big cousin.” Rachel thought her mother was going to boop her on the nose again, but the swift and fluid flick of her mother’s wrist was used to pop an adult-proportioned pacifier into the twenty-four year old’s mouth.  “But Kendal used to be a baby, too, and your Aunt Kristen used to change her diapers.  Now it’s your turn. Just try to enjoy it while it lasts.”  Rachel wanted to spit the pacifier out and in a ranting, swear filled, tirade explain to her mother in all the ways everything she just said was completely wrong. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. She accidentally gave the rubber teat in her mouth a suckle- just one- and instantly hated the thought of ever being without it.   This was her paci.  Her binky. Her comfort item that she could use whenever she was bored, or scared, or sleepy.  Her ultimate comfort item. It was better than cigarettes! Mom used to tell stories about how she had to be gradually weaned off of pacifiers and took them to bed with her until her first sleepover in the first grade.  Mom’s own clock had been rewound to where that story wasn’t amusing or relevant anymore.   Mommy dug around in the diaper bag and frowned. “Whoops! Last one!”  She took a single diaper out of the bag. For a second it looked like a normal baby diaper. Small, folded, rectangular Mickey Mouse on the front, with a faint yellow line that one could barely make out unless it was right in front of one’s face.  She couldn’t tell what size it was, didn’t know how old she was supposed to be, and didn’t know enough about diaper sizes to guess. The only thing she knew for sure was that it was a diaper and it was way too small for her. Mommy unfolded the diaper and instantly put the lie to that thought. Rachel suckled even harder on her pacifier.  The magic of the restaurant was more than just altering her clothes to become more babyish. It was altering already babyish things to accommodate her as well! That meant no one was snapping out of it when diapers from the grocery store suddenly didn’t fit or a onesie wouldn’t go over her head. Rachel wanted to cry. She wanted to beg, too. Were she the praying sort, she would have folded her hands, but she wasn’t and it was much too late for that. More than anything, though, she wanted out of her own messy diaper. Mommy granted her wish. A flick at her elbow, and the hem of Rachel’s dress was now up past her belly-button.  Two more swift movements and the gentle, scritch-scratch sounds of hook and loop tabs around her waste announced that the change had begun. Rachel sucked harder than ever on her precious paci and Mom pulled the diaper fully open. “Peee-yew, girlie!” she teased and waved her hand in front of her face. “What have I been feeding you?” The young woman moaned and whimpered behind the rubber bulb. She had ex-boyfriends that hadn’t seen her so naked and vulnerable.  Mommy had, though. From her perspective, there hadn’t been a day where she hadn’t seen her daughter naked. Rachel still felt the futile need to try and cover herself. “No-no-no!” Mommy quickly slapped Rachel’s hands away. “Let Mommy clean you up. You can play down there when you’re older,” she chuckled briefly at her own joke and slipped a colorful ring of plastic keys out of the diaper bag’s side pocket along with a couple of wipes.  “Here. Play with these!” She dangled them over Rachel’s head, high and just barely out of her arms reach. A demented giggle gurgled out from behind her pacifier and her arms took the bait.  Realistically, her mother shouldn’t have to be holding the keys so high to keep them out of a baby’s reach, but neither her or any of the women entering or exiting the restroom took notice. Rachel wanted those keys more than anything in the world. The way that they danced in the air, begging her to play with them.  She was happier than words could properly describe when her fingers brushed against the big blue one, and an unadulterated squeal of joy came out of her when the funny little things finally dropped into her outstretched hand.  Rachel closed both palms around it and clutched the key ring to her chest. Give her an active volcano filled to the brim with lava in that moment and she could die a happy woman. An ice cold baby wipe right between her legs brought her back to her senses. “Ooops! Sorry, Rachel!” Mommy cooed. The apology didn’t stop her from wiping.  Good. Rachel didn’t want her to stop. “I know it’s a liiiitle cold, but you’ll feel so much better when I’m done!” Rachel literally couldn’t argue with that.   Mommy slipped her hands under Rachel’s knees and lifted her legs up towards the ceiling, pinning her knees close to her stomach.  “Such a messy, messy, girl!” Mommy said. “Just went right down and…plop!”  She kept wiping, disposing sheet after sheet into the open diaper much browner than it had been a moment before. Rachel was glad her newly forming infantile tendencies weren’t compelling her to laugh or giggle.  She’d considered screaming out her frustrations, but was afraid that some passerby might suggest she was hungry and needed to breastfeed. Stranger things had already happened… Mommy rocked Rachel’s hips back a little further so that she could remove the soiled diaper.  She wasn’t much taller or stronger than Rachel, but reality was going the extra mile to keep any disbelief she might have fully suspended.  Rachel lifted her head and lost all hope watching her mother ball up what used to be her underwear and watch mass fold in on itself and shrink down to a more manageable size.  It wasn’t even big enough to be seen over the edge of the trashcan.  Her new diaper certainly was big enough at the moment. Rachel suckled faster and harder when her bare bottom was lowered back down onto the soft fluffy padding.  A vaguely familiar, papery crinkle filled her ears as her weight distributed itself across the open diaper. On one hand, the worst was over. On the other hand…was it?  Rachel turned her head to the side.  Other women her age were washing their hands in the sink; perhaps reapplying makeup in the mirror. Meanwhile, Mom was raining down a cloud of baby powder onto Rachel’s privates. The dust had barely just settled when Mommy put the bottle of baby powder down and yanked the front of the diaper up and over her hips and fastened it on, one giant Velcro tape at a time.  Mommy flipped down Rachel’s dress, unbuckled Rachel from the changing station and had Rachel back in her arms just as quickly as she’d previously done the opposite steps. “There,” Mommy whispered to her and rubbed her back. “That’s better.” Except it wasn’t better. It might never be. If she kept wearing diapers would she ever get out of them? This was magic. Real world rules and real world logic didn’t apply.  She couldn’t prove her real age to anyone by being particularly eloquent or by showing them identification.  The soft, poofy, crinkly mass taped around her waist was all the proof of age that anyone needed. “Mommy?” she tried, finally letting the comfort of the pacifier drop from her lips and dangle at the end of its string. “Can we pleeeeeease go back to the restaurant? I reeeeally need to talk to the guy with the fake accent.” Mommy just kept rubbing her back. “I know, baby. You’re cranky. You’re tired. It’s late. Past your bedtime. Let’s get you home!” “Ffffuuuuu…aw what’s the use?”  She could still talk, but everybody else’s ears weren’t capable of listening. Rachel went limp in her mother’s grip and let herself be carried out of the bathroom. Kendall and Aunt Kristen were busy at check out. The diaper change had taken longer than expected and/or Kendall had figured out her size and then gotten her mom to buy her a buttload of outfits.  Both were entirely plausible.  No less plausible than this situation. “Hey ladies,” Mommy said, keeping her voice down to a stage whisper. “I think Ray-Ray is getting tired, and her bag just ran out of diapers. Any chance we could get going?” The other two looked at one another and nodded. “Sure, Auntie Jordan,” Kendall said. “I’m just glad you two were able to come to dinner.” “Of course!” Mommy said. She reached out and teasingly pinched Kendall’s cheek. “Your mother and I are always ready to celebrate our girls’ achievements! Big and small!”   “Thanks…” Kendall smiled and then rubbed her cheek.  Rachel’s revised birth date didn’t stop either of the older women from condescending and gushing about the good ol’ days when Kendall was waddling around in nothing but a diaper. Rachel grabbed her pacifier and popped it back in her mouth to stop herself from crying out as they inevitably walked out of the mall and back past Percept-Shun. She wasn’t strong enough to break free of anyone’s grip; wouldn’t be understood, and crying wouldn’t get her any solution or comfort not already available to an infant.   She wasn’t surprised to find a car seat waiting for her that could have been part of a roller coaster. She didn’t question the exact physics or mechanics of lifting her and wedging her in. More impossible things had already happened. What was one more?  “Oh yeah. She’s running on fumes,” Aunt Kristen noticed. Rachel didn’t struggle against being buckled in. Why would she? She was already exhausted and wanting to nod off in the hopes that the nightmare might be over when she woke up. It had taken less than an hour to grow down. How long would it take to grow up again? At the same rate as the first time? Even slower? Would Mommy start potty training her after a year or two, or would the clock just reset every time some stranger guessed her age wrong and reality adjusted again to make them correct? These questions and more plagued her tired and frayed psyche while the car was started up and they hit the road towards home. Rachel was in no hurry for Aunt Jordan’s car to drop them off and drive away. Her old room was most certainly a nursery and her bed was more than likely a crib. Her apartment no longer existed and everything she would ever need to wear was sold in the baby section at Walmart. As (bad) luck would have it, Aunt Kristen pulled into the exact same gas station that had started. “Hold on. Gotta go see a man about a horse.” “Really?” Mommy joked. “You and your daughter! Ever since you were out of diapers, you pick the worst times to have to use the restroom!” Kendall threw up her hands as if in self defense. “Hey! Leave me out of this!” “Yeah yeah,” Aunt Kristen said. “You’re just jealous because your kid is still in diapers and mine is about to be a doctor.” She looked back at Rachel. “No offense, Rachel.” Some taken… “Anything you guys want while I’m in there?” Aunt Kristen asked the two perceived adults remaining in the car. “Candy? Soda?” Mommy looked at the diaper bag. “Um…I just changed her, but could you see if they have any diapers? It’s still a long car ride home.” Aunt Kristen gave Rachel’s Mommy a thumbs up. “Can do, sis. What size is she? A three? Four?”  It didn’t matter. Whatever size she thought Rachel belonged in would be correct.  “I’ll see if they have anything.” She left the car running and went inside. It was silent for a time. Neither adult felt much like talking to a big baby and the big baby didn’t feel much like being frustrated trying to talk. “So…” Mom asked Kendall when the quiet hum of the engine stretched on for too long. (Seriously, what was Auntie Jordan doing in there? Retiling the place? “Are you excited about getting into med school?” Kendall nodded. “Yes, ma’am, Auntie Jordan, I sure am!”  Someone definitely looked ready and rarin’ for something…even if it was just for this polite conversation to abruptly end. “Your mom is so proud of you and always has been.” Mommy told her. “I hope you know that.” “Yes ma’am.” Kendall’s laugh was nervous and tired. “I do. I certainly…” Kendall stopped and made a pained expression. “Kendall?” Mommy said. “Are you okay? You look like you’re hurting. Are you okay, big girl?”   “Yeah…” Kendall grimaced. “I think…” she paused and her belly audibly gurgled. “I think something I ate…didn’t quite agree with me.” Rachel turned her head. Her nostrils flared first with concern, then with surprise as the young woman’s clothes began to melt right off of her, sloughing off her body and dripping down into her lap: Shirt. Bra. Pants. Everything. “It’s okay, baby.” Rachel’s Mom reached back and stroked Kendall’s hair. “Just let it all out.” Something like realization crossed Kendall’s face. “What? What are you talking about?” As she said it, the back seat the cousins had been sharing reached out and wrapped itself around her, pinning her chest, spreading her legs, reclining her and forcing her to lean back and recline so that her feet were dangling; just like Rachel.    “What…” she grunted. Her mouth was working to get out words even as her bottom was working to get something else out.   “What’s…happen…ing?” Just like with Rachel, Mommy didn’t hear Kendall’s words; only her intonation. “Go on,” she cooed. “Get all the poopies out.  Just like Kendall did. Your Mommy is coming back to change you.” She reached out and stroked Kendall’s hair. “Just get it allll out! Make her proud!” Kendall didn’t speak again, until she was sweating, panting, and sitting in her own mess. That she had to stare down past her own naked breasts to view the soaked and messy diaper she was sitting in didn’t seem to count for much where perceived adulthood was concerned. “Shouldn’t have eaten the macaroni…” Rachel muttered. “What do you mean I shouldn’t have…?” Kendall turned her head. “Rachel? You can talk?!” Her cousin blinked, two halves of her mind waging war with one another with expectation and reality clashing.  “Are you wearing a diaper?” She looked down at herself. “Am I wearing a diaper? WHY AM I WEARING A DIAPER?!” “I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you.” Were the only words Rachel could think to say. The driver’s side door opened up and a triumphant Aunt Kristen slid back in. “I think the guy behind the gas station is psychic!” She said to Rachel’s mom. “Why’s that?” Mommy asked, smirking playfully. “Because when I went to buy the diapers, he asked if they were for my kid!” Mommy snorted. “That’s not exactly the best evidence. Who else would they be for?” Aunt Kristen pointed a thumb Rachel’s way.  “Could be rugrat number one, and not rugrat number two. They don’t know that both of our diaper bags are empty!” She tore open the package in her lap and handed half of its contents over to her sister.  “They don’t even know that there are two diaper bags.” “That kind of proves my point,” Mommy laughed, but she stuffed the diapers she given into Rachel’s bag.  “Speaking of number two…someone needs you.” “WHAT?!” Kendall shrieked. “I didn’t! No way did I…! I’m going into med-school!” Her pleas fell on deaf ears.  Aunt Kristen popped open the hatchback to their car. She shouldn’t be able to change Kendall’s diaper in the tiny non-trunk where the jumper cables and spare tire was kept.  Kendal literally shouldn’t have been able to fit.  Reality would find a way somehow.  Rachel had been through enough already to know that.   “Don’t worry, big girl,” Kendall’s mother promised. “Mommy will get you all nice and comfy. Then when we get home we can try on some of the new jammies we bought! Won’t that be nice?” “Yup!” Rachel’s Mommy reminded everyone from her spot in the front. “We’ve got a couple of big girls on our hands. No more tummy time and crawling around. We’ve got a couple of wobbly walkers at daycare now!” Beyond the point of being able to care, Rachel closed her eyes and did her best to drown out the sounds of Kendall’s useless protests over her ass being wiped for her. Maybe the magic would wear off in time.  Perhaps once the ‘About What You Would Expect’ had passed through them and ended up in the pail, they’d go back to normal. Perhaps not. Either way, this new life wouldn’t be so different from her old one. No matter what, no matter how old either one of them got, Rachel and Kendall would always be their mothers darling baby girls. It just took a bit of magic and a special meal to turn that perception into reality.  And all other realities and truths that countered their mother’s extreme outlook?   If the name the restaurant was any clue, then Rachel knew what would happen to those. They’d be ignored; all the ways in which they perceived themselves to be adults shunned in favor of all the ways others, including their overbearing parents, saw them as children. (The End)

Online crap is so invasive now days, look at something on Google and it shows up everywhere (Facebook.....). So now I use a VPN and am mindful of where I surf or how I pay for things. Quite sure with more and more AI, things will be more interesting to come.