Diaper References

This is something to ponder whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza or nothing. It seems as the years go by we find more and more going on in life and around us that gets us down.  Wars in Ukraine, Gaza, ICE to name a few.  Politics, inflation, killings and a host of other things around the world.  I see attitudes in otherwise normal people as they go through life that I never saw 50 years ago.  Just plain rudeness and being self centered, not caring for people around them.  I go to the grocery store and see people rushing to cut me off with their shopping cart, then stop blocking me from moving.  Same with cars coming up behind me and tailgating when I'm already going over the limit.  Honking and flipping me off as they pass me, sometimes on a double yellow line.  Rudeness when getting lunch from a waiter or counter person at a fast food place. Asking for assistance in a store from employees and getting attitude from them.  It seems like everyone these days goes around with a big chip on their shoulders. I know for many the holidays can be a depressing time.  Maybe it brings up memories of lost loved ones.  Maybe they have no one to spend the holiday with.  I understand, but life is what YOU  make of it.  I think some people take pride in telling others they don't celebrate the holidays and say, "Just another day".  Fine, but do they have to be a downer and bring everyone else's mood down as well?  With all the bad things going on in the world, why can't people just enjoy the few good things left in life that can make us smile or happy without the automatic negative bravado attitude they feel people think is the cool answers.  I'm sick of hearing people always down the season or just shrug it off.  Even if you don't celebrate anymore, or never did, why not just sit back, take in the decorations, music and the happy people around you, feel good and maybe look at things in a different way.  A little goodwill towards people around you never hurts and maybe will rub off on some of them as well.  Think of Ebeneezer Scrooge and how his life was miserable all the time, never happy and making people around him miserable too.  At the end, he changed, enjoyed life, and people around him actually liked him, radiating good feelings and good will instead of unhappiness and misery.  Is it really so hard or putting yourself out to go around seeing the good in life and the holiday season instead of grumping around, being rude around others and making yourself miserable too?  It always makes me feel warm and good being nice to others.

Kayla didn’t wanna be here but she was still paranoid people would see her or hear that stupid D crinkle she despised the word DIAPER!  “This sucks why couldn’t I just stay in the car!” She whined trying not to draw attention to her humiliation!  She rolled her eyes as they entered the kids section or baby section.  “Wh-what you can’t be serious!” She whines a little louder than she meant too.   “I’m not a baby!”   

No. The caretaker cleared the blockage. He thinks it's cat litter but I don't know. I considered water pressure problems at my block. No. I've owned my property since 2002.  

Chapter 184: Commercialism GRANDMA PUT A strict limit on what I was allowed to do via specific devices to keep the trail away from me. I’d had a plan that would probably have worked just fine. Still, her experience and abilities meant we were able to lock everything down in such a way I couldn’t imagine anyone tracing things back to me – or to anyone, for that matter! I was able to quietly study the rest of that night and work on putting pieces of the project together that could already be assembled. The nest hack had been double-checked by Grandma, and she approved of my methods. She added a few more layers just to be safe, but was certain I would have been fine anyway. I isolated times of day when I knew things were at their worst to find footage of the nests. Meals being served of baby food, formula, and even several Littles telling their nest mothers ‘no’ to nursing num-nums, then forced to do so – well, it would help with the narrative. The next day, Grandma used Tessa to discreetly drop instructions for Charlotte on how to upload the footage to the remote server, even as she also had a way to communicate with me now. It allowed her to let me know she had fifteen people she trusted, each doing one of the interviews, and that she would have the footage by Friday! I needed to be careful around Charlotte; she was seen as the face of the students’ resistance movement at this point, and hanging around her had already put me on the radar before. Grandma spent that day working on the information I needed to connect the dots on the Board of Regents members who suddenly became hostile to Littles being adults or having a future. She shared with me on Wednesday night that there were payments to about eighty percent of those in favor of the new policies that were far too large for any legal justification. Beth did her own part for an interview then too, managing to get a recording of her Grandma Ruth, now eighty-seven, and serving her final term on the Supreme Court. I stripped anything that hinted at Beth’s involvement in recording the interview, even as her sharp-witted adopted grandmother understood completely and gladly helped put some cases into historical context. While people knew her dad had connections to her and would expect Beth to know the others, I hoped it was enough distance to keep her safe from scrutiny. Truth be told, even if they discovered her part, she’d probably be fine. The problem would be the risk of that leading to me. It seemed like Wednesday had at least flown by, with me sucking on the damn pacifier all the time between classes. I was beginning to get used to it. I suspected that was part of the reason for pushing them on everyone! Thursday, Grandma took me to her office after checking in with my screenwriting professor, and she gave me a tour of the latest systems that were installed in the building. It was kind of surprising that she hadn’t done so before, but there just wasn’t time when you had to go back to the nest! She showed me a room that had once housed massive machines in my mom’s time, which was filled with just a few smaller cabinets lined up. They had moved to quantum computers so long ago that even a simple phone like I had was far beyond our tech back home. This room, though, featured photonic computers that were literally bound only by the speed of light, and I knew that studies were underway to see if those ‘laws’ could be bent or broken to speed things up! As much as I could have spent all day there, she soon realized it was time for lunch, where we met up with Livy at the union. The way she wrung her hands, bounced her knees, and so on made me realize she looked nervous. “Is something wrong?” Beth finally asked her. She sighed, “I…” she stumbled, “I…” “What happened?” Beth asked her. “Iwetthebedlastnight,” she blurted out in a whisper so fast that it took me a moment to decipher. “Why?” Beth asked. “I have no idea, Beth! I haven’t ever had problems. Not since I was at least two!” Livy cringed. “Does anyone else know?” Beth asked quietly. “I don’t think so?” She said. “I fell asleep last night completely wrapped up in my comforter, so it was the only thing that got stuff on it. I need to wash it though…” she said. “And you can’t trust the washing machines in the dorm,” Beth noted. “Grandma, can you help her?” I asked. “Do you have other laundry you need to do?” Grandma asked her. “Probably? I usually do laundry on Saturdays?” “Okay, you’re coming to our house tonight to do laundry,” Grandma told her. “I’ll come up to your room and find you with Beth after we drop Carly off at her nest.” “What do I do if they find out before then?” Livy asked. “Don’t lie,” Grandma told her. “Don’t sign anything either. We’ll pick up something for protection tonight, too. If we need to, we’ll have you come stay with us the rest of the semester. Tonight you can steal Carly’s room, since she’ll be here.” “Have any other Tweeners been having problems?” I asked her. She nodded, “Two other girls this week were put back in pull-ups.” “I wonder how many empty pods there are in the nests,” Grandma wondered aloud. “About two hundred between the two dorms,” I answered her quietly. “Trying to fill them, I’m guessing,” Grandma sighed. “You can have two incidents before they’re required to give you the contract. When I come to pick you up, I’m going to look around your room and make sure they haven’t found a new way to plant something.” “This is bullshit,” Nikki said beside us. “I’m sorry, girls, but I’m really growing fed up with this crap.” “Me too,” Beth said. We finished lunch, then headed toward our Narratives class.   BETH WAS FURIOUS that now her friend Livy was being hit by whatever was going on! ‘I missed the chance to help Reila, I’ll be damned if I let them take Livy too!!!!!’ It occurred to her that the people who had set her up before Spring Break had probably missed an opportunity. If instead of hacking Rachel to attack her, they’d just had her let something through unnoticed, they could have just taken care of her like Reila. That dark thought was only appeased as she held Carly on her lap while Wyler entered Carly’s attendance in the system. Everyone else had been sent a message to just meet in one of the HoloStages so they could get to work on the commercial. “All good, Carly, I assume you girls are joining the rest of the studio to film?” “Yes, sir,” Carly said. “Sad to say this’ll be the last time I get to play in there!” He smiled, “It’s hard to think of you as an exchange student, you really have fit in so well here!” “Thanks,” Carly told him. “Come on,” Beth said as she stood with the short girl on her side. “Let’s head over there. I’m looking forward to my first time in there, where I don’t have embarrassing costumes to worry about!” Carly giggled at that, “That’s true.” They were halfway down the hallway when Carly squirmed a bit, and Beth felt the diaper beneath the skirt where she was holding Carly’s bottom balloon. The smell confirmed her guess. A moment later, she sighed, “Come on, Carly, let’s change those stinky pants first.” A bathroom door was handily right next to the studio, and after a marshal checked it out, she ducked in there with Carly. “You done?” Carly shrugged, “I wish I could tell you. I think so?” “Wow, this is pretty bad,” Beth said a moment later. She got to thinking, “Carly, when was the last poopy diaper you had?” She shrugged, “A couple of days ago?” “You must be getting stopped up…” “Probably that formula they keep giving us,” Carly complained. “Thank goodness you only have it two days…” Beth said, cleaning up one of the worst diapers she’d seen Carly have. It wasn’t runny, but it was absolutely caked on the poor girl’s bottom. When she eventually finished cleaning up Carly, she scrubbed her own hands for a couple of minutes! “Sorry,” Carly apologized. Beth squeezed her, “Not your fault.” She carried Carly the rest of the way to the studio they had reserved. “This is a lot smaller,” Carly noted as Beth set her on the ground. “We don’t need as big a studio for this one,” Sebastian said, hearing her. “Glad you two made it over here. Problems?” Beth shook her head, “Not getting here. Just had to stop by the restroom first.” Beth tilted her head towards Carly, and he got the memo. “So what do you need help with?” Carly asked. “Not much right now, Carly,” Sebastian said. “Why don’t you come hang out by the monitors and make notes for edits. Since it’s all just filming and voice work, with an occasional hand going in and out, it’s not much for most of it. We only have what, two places faces are even seen?” “Unless we want to add a Little crying for her baba?” Charlotte came over and kidded Carly. For her part, Carly stuck her tongue out at the Big, “No thank you!” “Let’s get this show on the road, Seb,” Charlotte said. Apparently, it was a real product launch for this EasyBrew, too. They started the commercial by filming Harper holding a squirming HoloBaby on her hip. She shushed her, even though none of the audio would be used, as she pressed a button and filled up the baby bottle of formula at the perfect temperature. Right behind her, Gary came in and acted like the dad needing his morning coffee fix, instantly changing the setting to coffee. They did that a couple of times before filming, just her feeding the baby the formula, and both of them looking over the baby lying in a bassinet while they drank their coffee. After that, it was just close-up shots of the unit and different liquids pouring from it. Crew members alternated putting drink containers in and brewing coffee, hot chocolate, tea, sodas, juice, all into a variety of cups, mugs, and even a sippy cup. “Do we need any more?” Charlotte asked Carly. She shrugged, “I would think this is enough? We’ve done all the feature close-ups?” “So just the voice-overs then?” Sebastian asked. “I think so?” Carly replied. “Great!” Charlotte said. “Ben, let’s get this recorded over in the booth, and everyone else can take this stuff down.” “Great!” he said. Charlotte and Sebastian had cast Ben for the voice of the narration for good reason – it was just one of those voices that you could see being on the radio! He was a theater major, so reading the lines in the sound booth took no time at all. Only ninety minutes into their three-hour class time, they were done! “That’s a wrap, everyone!” Charlotte said. “End of the semester, I plan to make sure we have a party for all of us to get together. You’ve been amazing, and I can’t imagine a better group of friends to have worked with this semester!” “Aww…” Beth heard a few people say. “Do you two want to go get some editing time in?” Charlotte suggested. Beth was about to suggest waiting, but Carly said, “That sounds great! I have ninety minutes before class ends, and I have to head back to the nest. You want to finish cleaning up here, and we’ll see if we can’t get it all done by then? You can swing by and check?” “Sure,” Charlotte said with a smile. “You two get out of here, we’ll get cleaned up.” With that, Carly motioned for Beth to pick her up, and she left with her entourage down the hall, where Carly had somehow already found a free editing studio and reserved it. After it was checked over, Nikki and the marshals left the two of them to do their work inside. Beth wanted to ask Carly about some things, but noted she hadn’t bothered to scan for bugs like she typically did. What was really astounding, though, was how quickly Carly spliced everything together into the commercial. She’d even added some music created with the software when the door opened and Charlotte came in. “How are you girls doing?” “Just finished, I think?” Carly told her. “Here, let me put up the preview. I’ll have to let it do its render for the final file, but it should be good.” Carly pressed play, and they watched a couple of times, with Charlotte making one suggestion that Carly quickly made before Beth noted Charlotte used one of those jammers Amanda seemed to be handing out. “How is your part of the project going?” Charlotte asked Carly. “Well,” she told her. “I just need to get your interview footage from people and get it all assembled. I’m going to just use computer-generated voices like you suggested.” “We should have all of those done by tomorrow afternoon,” Charlotte told her. “Look, just so you know, this isn’t the only thing we have going on.” Carly held her hand up, “Don’t tell me, that way I can act just as surprised as anyone else. I’m going to be in the nest when this goes out, so I’ll have an alibi then. I don’t want to give them anything else.” “Fair enough,” she said, suddenly hugging Carly. “You know, I don’t think I would have thought about joining a cause like this until I met you.” “I think you’re selling yourself short,” Carly told her. “Maybe… All I know is my mom is pissed at me right now.” “Sorry?” Beth said. Charlotte shrugged, “It’s a continual state of being for her. Pissed I went to college, pissed I haven’t adopted five Littles by now, pissed I’ve turned down projects so I can have a normal college life!” Beth couldn’t help but feel sad for the tall girl, “That sucks.” “It does,” she agreed. “Which makes doing something like this all the more meaningful if it’ll piss her off,” she said with a smirk. “We’ve been talking long enough,” Carly said, “Go ahead and pretend we’ve just been waiting for this render.” Charlotte put the device away, and Carly said, “That should be done. We can look it over with the studio on Tuesday with our film?” “Sounds good,” she said, scooping her up and hugging her. “You should probably get back to your nest?” “Yeah,” Carly said, completely unenthused. Amanda was waiting outside and took over holding Carly, pushed her pacifier into her mouth, and carried her off to her nest. “I’ll see you in a bit,” she told Beth. “I’m just going to go make that pick up, and we’ll meet you at the house.” “Thanks!” Beth told her. Nikki and the marshals led her to the vehicle, and she at least took solace that there hadn’t been any attempts to kidnap her since she’d returned home!   I DID NOT want to let go of Grandma when we arrived at my dorm. Truthfully, it barely felt like my dorm now that I was gone most of the time! Unfortunately, Grandma was once again told she couldn’t go upstairs, so she had to leave me at the entrance. “I love you, Carly, see you tomorrow!” “Love you too, Grandma,” I told her. The on-duty person at the nest desk waved at me, and I took that to mean I needed to go upstairs. I was on the elevator on my own, and that made me unsurprised to see half of the nest there. Looking around, I saw an empty pod. ‘Zoey?!?’ I thought, noting whose it was. I bit down on the stupid pacifier then, and said, “Hi, Mommy,” to Lilly. She picked me up and hugged me, “Hi, Carly, I missed you!” I just leaned into her, “I miss you,” I said with the unsaid implication that I didn’t miss this place. “That diaper seems like it’ll last a while. The girls are working on their homework tonight. Why don’t you go sit with them and work on yours? Just hand me your phone first, and then you can get to work!” “Okay,” I told her, handing the phone over as required. I sat down beside Reila a few minutes later, her pacifier dangling from the strap. I noted most of the girls didn’t have them in their mouths, although Mia was sucking on hers like she was afraid it would disappear. I sighed, “How are you doing?” I asked her quietly. “Not great,” she told me. “My mom called today and told me I can either stay here for summer school this summer, or go home, and she’ll take me to a daycare each day.” I leaned over in response and gave her a hug, “Maybe we can figure something else out for you by then…” She shrugged, “That’s only if we don’t all get kicked out to the daycare before then.” Seeing no one was close, and we were probably far enough that the nest camera wouldn’t pick up everything. “What happened to Zoey?” “Supposedly, she was involved in the drone art,” she said quietly. I thought back to the graffiti incident they’d cleaned up early that one morning. “She couldn’t…?” “I don’t think she did it, but her art was used, so they assumed she was involved.” “Grace could have given them it…” I said, thinking aloud. She nodded, “Either way, she’s gone. We’re down to six in here… well, seven when you’re here.” “I think they’re trying to fill the spots,” I told her. “Probably,” she agreed. “Glad Beth got off campus at least.” “Me too,” I told her. We both made sure to get back to homework. While I didn’t have much to do in my classes, I did work on my final project for Computational Intelligence, which I didn’t think I’d be able to do that evening. ‘Good, it frees up time to do more work at home tomorrow and this weekend.’ There was no way I would be working on the documentary from inside the nest. Grandma had triple-checked that my connection was untraceable, but even so, she established a rule that, outside of emergencies, I was to connect for no more than fifteen minutes while I was here. Eventually, it was ‘din-din’ time, and Lilly lifted us into our wonderful high chair seats. Dinner was a smorgasbord of pureed baby food, peas, and ‘lasagna.’ Fortunately, portion sizes were kept a bit smaller than in some past meals. ‘I wonder if others have been puking too?’ I tried not to think about it as I did my best to get it over with, which everyone else seemed to think was the best approach, too. As much as the formula still didn’t taste great, it still was a relief to wash down the slop with something else!   ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press that Like Button and leave a comment! I've enjoyed have a week of vacation here, but unfortunately I'm going to be heading back to the thick of it again on Monday. Between work and holiday stuff, the next few weeks will be absolutely packed. I hope to be able to keep rewarding you with bonus chapters, but there may be some weeks I can't. That being said, this weekend I can! Just have to get past that 35 again that you all have been doing so well on!  As of right now all of my completed works are on Amazon Kindle if you're looking for something to take with you on a trip this next month. Each has an AI read Audiobook version available as a $1.99 add-on as well. (Even if you've previously purchased it, you can still do the $1.99 add-on) It's not as good as what you'll hear from Cheeky Charlie on her version of Diamond Tours, but it's pretty decent for AI I think. Good way to pass those long car trips many take this time of year! All of those works are available here:  https://www.amazon.com/author/babysofia Those sales help me keep finding time to write for you all as well!  Hope everyone had a great start to the holiday season!

Backstage hummed with a quiet, charged energy—an orchestrated chaos made of softly clicking ballet flats, the rustling of tulle layers, and whispered cues passed between dancers like secrets. The air was saturated with the faint mist of hairspray, a powdery hint of lavender, and the low, persistent hum of adrenaline that vibrated beneath every breath. Dylan stood at the mirror with the others, stretching with calm determination. At this point, the motions were more ritual than necessity—reminders to their bodies and minds that the moment they had rehearsed for was no longer a distant promise. It was here. Miss Emma moved through the crowd with the serenity of a seasoned conductor. Clipboard in hand, sweater sleeves pushed to her elbows, she exuded a warm authority—like a lighthouse in a swirling storm, steady and sure. "Dylan, sweetheart, come with me for a moment," she said, her voice low and certain, like the soft snap of velvet being drawn shut. He hesitated, a skip in his chest betraying his calm exterior, then trailed behind her through the maze of costume racks and makeup stations. They entered a quieter dressing room tucked behind a curtain, the door clicking softly shut to dim the chaos. Miss Emma turned the lock with a gentle flick. "Just one last check, love. You know the routine. We can’t have any surprises when you’re onstage in front of a crowd." He nodded slowly, his cheeks already pink with anticipation. It wasn’t embarrassment—not exactly—but something more complicated. The vulnerability of being seen, even by someone as calm and kind as Miss Emma, in a moment so private before a moment so public. He stood still, arms crossed in front of him, chin tilted slightly upward like he was bracing for a gust of wind. She was quick, efficient, and kind—her hands practiced, her tone maternal. "You've done beautifully," she said as she fastened the fresh diaper into place, her voice laced with a kind of gentle pride. "Six weeks and only one hiccup. That’s a record to be proud of." He huffed a half-laugh, more exhale than sound. "Do I get a medal?" "You get a standing ovation, darling," she said, eyes crinkling with warmth. "Though let’s hold off until the second act." She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, steady and grounding, and then sent him back into the main dressing area, while she peeled off down the hallway to greet Beth and Alyssa. They stood like proud sentinels in the welcome gallery, programs folded in neat rectangles and eyes full of anticipation. Dylan, cheeks flushed and heart steadying, returned to his station. His costume waited like a silent partner—his catsuit hanging on the rack with quiet dignity, shimmering faintly under the fluorescent lights. He ran a hand over the fabric, feeling the smooth stretch beneath his fingertips before stepping into it with the practiced grace of someone who had learned not just the dance, but the world that came with it. The suit hugged his body like a secret—tight and smooth, with sleek black fabric interrupted only by soft mesh sleeves that suggested movement without stealing attention. Its design pulled the eye upward—shoulders, neck, expression—drawing focus away from the padding at his waist. In the mirror, he didn’t see the boy trying to pass. He saw a dancer. A figure in control, in balance, in motion. He saw possibility. When he stepped out, the room paused for a moment like a breath being held. A couple of crew members and dancers who hadn’t yet seen his costume did double takes. A few gasped. "Whoa—Dylan!" one girl whispered, grinning like she’d just stumbled into a celebrity sighting. "You look amazing." "Like, seriously," another added. "You could be in a real show." He gave a bashful half-smile, eyes darting down like he didn’t quite know what to do with their excitement. Then came the stillness. Mrs. Dubois had entered. She walked like silk drawn over glass—elegant and sharp—and she paused mid-step when her eyes found him. There was a beat of silence, pregnant with meaning. Her gaze didn’t flicker. It scanned him once—slowly—from head to toe, then lingered, unwavering, on his face. She stepped closer, hand lightly brushing her chest as if steadying something inside. "Mon dieu," she murmured, and then with more presence: "Regardez. Look at you." Dylan’s heart thundered. He didn’t know what that meant—if it was awe or alarm—but he didn’t breathe. Then she smiled, just barely, and tilted her head. "You are a vision. Strong, yes. But graceful, too. The balance is rare." She gestured softly to the sleek lines of his outfit. "This? This is art on you. You give it life. This is what I imagined—no, more. Much more." He blinked, dumbstruck. "Technique grows with practice," she said. "But presence? That you earn. And you, Monsieur Mercer—you have earned it. When the lights come on tonight, they will see you. They will remember." With a final nod, she turned to issue another set of instructions to a technician. But her words lingered like perfume. And then Rachel appeared. She moved like a painting come to life—tutu drifting like fog around her, hair pulled into a precise bun, sparkling pins catching the light. Her expression was all quiet purpose. No teasing. No smirks. Just a look that met his, nodded once, and said, We’re in this together. It was electric. Around them, the room swelled again into movement. Brushes darted like butterflies over cheeks and brows. Costumes were zipped, shoes re-laced, breath checked. Mrs. Dubois’s voice glided above it all, smooth and unflappable, a maestro guiding her orchestra. Somehow, in the clatter and clamor of backstage, everything aligned. Dylan found himself standing with the others, shoulders square, heart keeping time with the soft prelude drifting in from the auditorium. The lights were ready. And so, maybe, were they.