General

Loved this chapter.  “Adam” actually seems to be pretty pleased with his new diapers.  If he could have something to cover the duck he might actually even like them. At least he is dry and comfortable.  I know that having a rash isn’t fun at all.  I am looking forward to seeing more.  Still curious about who will get notification first,  Dad or Kelly.  

19 The infirmary smelled of lavender, the sky-blue tiles surrounding the four walls shone as if they were glass cases under spotlights, the small desk and crib had been freshly polished. The medicine refrigerator was also in perfect condition, perhaps Nurse Yvette had just changed it. The young woman was reading a medical manual when the door opened violently. It was Ferg who had thrown it open like that; he called out her name. Yvette rushed toward him without hesitation. Her eyes fell on the little girl she held in her arms. The little girl hid her face, sobbing softly. She preferred not to start a discussion; her priority was to help the poor little girl. "Leave her, I'll take it from here," she told him in a firm tone, then looked at the little boy for a moment. She noticed a line of blood dripping from his right temple. "You are bleeding, take a piece of paper and hold it against the wound." Yvette sat the little girl down on a stool. She took a deep breath, grabbed her forearms slowly and began to speak to her softly, "It's okay. You are in the infirmary, I am Nurse Yvette, what happened to you?" The little girl did not answer, the sobs began to slow down. Feeling the very slight pressure on her arms, the little girl pushed them away from her face with slow, shaking movements. The nurse understood the reason for the urgency. She told her "I'll be right back," went to the refrigerator, from which she took out a bag with a bluish liquid inside, and returned to the suffering little girl. "Take it and bring it close to her eye, don't press it hard," she handed it to her and she obeyed. She groaned. She told her in a low voice, "Thank you." Yvette smiled weakly at her. She turned her gaze toward her friend. Ferg was watching them worriedly. From the way he pressed his lips against each other, he was resisting the intense burning of the wound. "I'll fix your friend up, you stay here in the meantime," she told her. A few minutes later, Luz and Ferg sat next to each other. Her cut was disinfected and stopped bleeding, the only advice she gave them was to keep their hands away from the wound. Throughout their stay, Riley remained aloof and in complete silence. Seeing them together and taken care of calmed her and made her forget that her pants were wet. Holding back a smile was impossible. "Are they okay?" questioned Yvette, her voice nervous. She could no longer keep it to herself. She approached her friends. The woman looked at her bewilderedly for a moment. Before her question she thought she was alone with two eleven-year-olds, she had to think again. She sat down behind her small desk, then answered her, "Fit as a fiddle. I must admit that you two are the first two serious patients I've had since the beginning of the year." "So, can we go back to class?" asked Freg thoughtfully, involuntarily his hand and Luz's hand joined. Yvette took a blank sheet of paper from in blue binder and a pen from the pen holder next to the computer screen. She replied coldly, "Not yet, I need to talk to one of your teachers first." "Why?" asked Riley in a contrite voice. Yvette looked up from the paper uncertainly. "Because my work," she explained seriously. "I have to report my work to the teacher on duty so they can communicate it to your parents." Ferg got up from his stool in amazement. "No! They can't do that!" Nurse Yvette abruptly rose from her chair. Her sincere and systematic tone of voice, however, betrayed the sense of imposition that her pose instilled. "Yes I can," she said. "This is my task, otherwise I would not be here. What are your names?" The kids looked at each other fearfully. "Can't you just pretend?" implored Riley. "Please!" Yvette sighed in annoyance. "I can't do that. Give me your names, I won't repeat it a second time." Two chimes came from the door, followed by a man's faintly low voice. "Is anyone there?" The nurse recognized that voice and said cordially, "Come in, Mr. Johnson." Mr. Johnson nervously walked through the doorway and hurried toward the three eleven-year-olds. He breathed a sigh of relief, although he had not yet removed that veil of agitation and worry. Behind him, Theo followed as if he were his shadow. "What happened?" he questioned them shocked. "We fell down the stairs," Ferg lied. His voice was full of resentment. "Why all these questions?" Riley looked up at the ceiling stymied. She did not understand the reason for that lie, most likely their teacher knew about what had happened in class A-3. It was a puzzle in her eyes. Mr. Johnson noticed her reaction. Seizing the opportunity, he asked her suspiciously, "Riley, what happened?" She would not tell a lie, woe if she tried. So much for a note on the ledger, this is worth suspension! She felt Theo's hand squeeze hers, a feeling of security made her feel stronger. She gave a wistful look to Luz, who began to speak for her in a tremulous voice. "We went to talk to some of Ferg's friends, Katrine came and started pushing Ferg. Riley, Theo and I had moved away; that bully pushed him against the computer and knocked him over. Then..." "Then what?" asked the concerned teacher. Riley stole her word. "She lunged at her and pushed her against the desk. Then Katrine punched her in the face." Mr. Johnson winced in surprise. "As soon as the principal hears about this..." The kids raised their antennas at that precise moment. What do you mean the principal will be told? "Mr. Johnson," Theo began uncertainly, "why should the principal know? Wouldn't that be a teacher issue?" "Bullying is about any figure within the school, Theo," he told him in a motivated and confident voice. "The principal is going to come down hard on this bully." The nurse cleared her throat, drawing the attention of those present to herself. Then she began to speak, "Mr. Johnson, I need you to sign this document. Also, I must have the kids' names." "For what, may I ask?" "School practice," the woman answered quickly and put a paper and pen in front of him. The teacher grimaced at him, subsequently turning to his students. "Hey kids, do you want some advice? Read before you sign any papers, you have no idea how many hidden nuisances can pop up if you don't give it a good read!" * Their parents arrived an hour later. The principal's waiting room had never had to accommodate twelve people at once before that day. The only one missing was Mr. Johnson, who had to return to class and would not be able to report what happened to Principal Bright. Two groups were formed: the big ones and the little ones. As can be seen from the clear-cut classification, on one side were eight adults intent on discussing, indeed getting angry, about the fact that their children had been targeted by a bully (only a little later would they find out it was a bunch) eighth-grader. On the other, four eleven-year-olds sat in complete silence. The vociferousness of the former was cause for rebuke by Vice Principal Zegler, who shushed them by saying, "Do as your children do, be quiet! There are people working!" Riley searched for her parents' eyes and found them. She put his hands in front of her mouth to stifle her laughter at seeing his parents' sorry faces. From then on, she could provoke them with jokes in which the vice principal's name played a key role in succeeding in their effectiveness. Her friends were in no mood for conversation, especially Luz and Ferg who talked to each other with their eyes without ever hinting at a movement of their lips. If looking at each other's eyes was a recognized language, the two of them would have been the greatest experts and exponents. How tender they are! "Theo?" she whispered to him. "Tell me, Riley." "What do you think of... L+F?" she nodded her head back at him. Theo answered shortly after, deciphering the meaning of that movement quickly was a challenge. "They look good together." "I know!" Riley held back a little cry. "I admit I'm envious." "I'm not!" sentenced the friend. "I'm better off as I am!" Why are you males idiots? Theo had not finished speaking. "Can I tell you a secret?" Riley was surprised at that question. What could it be about? She told him willingly, "Shoot." "You shook my hand, in A-3," he began impishly, "I shook it for you in the infirmary... it felt good to feel you around my you know?" Riley smiled, blushing slightly. "I know. I felt good too you know?" Theo fidgeted a little, looked away for a second, then back at his friend. For reasons unknown to him, his heart began to beat at an abnormal rate. What was happening to him? "Just like the two of them," he refuted and smiled at her. A click came from the door of the principal's office, interrupting the chinwags of the parent group and drawing the attention of everyone present. Silence fell. Principal Bright, a wrinkled man in his 60s with white hair on his sides, gasped. Even today, parents had come to complain with questionable and stupid motives, so his thoughts drifted away. He studied the hallway, desperately looking for a friendly face. The only one he found was that of his colleague: vice principal Zegler. He beckoned her with his hand to approach him. He asked her nervously, "What's going on?" Francine Zegler replied bitterly, "A fight between two sixth-graders and an eighth-grader. Have fun, Gerald." * The principal listened carefully to the four sixth-graders' tale. His expression changed twice when they mentioned Katrine Foster's name and the fight that had led them straight to his office. The easy part had just passed, now came the hard part: the wrath of the parents. Only Luz's parents, Mrs. Mendoza and Mr. Mendoza, expressed their displeasure with resentment, this was also due to the fact that they found out at that moment about the incident that had happened days before. Ferg's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Glenn, remained cool throughout. They gave the impression to everyone, even their own son, that it was none of their business and that they just wanted to get back to work. In fact, a half hour after the Mendozas' speech, they left. Ferg did not follow them. At that point, Gerald Bright told the young boy, "In the next few days, I will schedule another meeting with your parents. Since they are gone, I will ask you to return to class." Ferg obeyed resignedly, before leaving he bitterly said goodbye to all of them. The only ones who did not utter a word were the Bennets and the Bishops. Riley and Theo feared rebuke and punishment for doing nothing during that "clash of titans." His changes of expression, movements dictated by nervousness, and the few times he interrupted and then apologized were a symptom of an anger that was about to overflow. Indeed, it was. "I can't not let it go, the behavior of Ms. Bishop and Mr. Bennet," thundered Principal Bright. "You should have called a teacher, not just stood there like two stooges! Anyone who does not intervene is an accomplice!" Theo gritted his teeth. His brain was searching for an answer to that aberrant sentence, but would it do any good? He jumped down from his chair to protest, but his father shooed it away from his head by pulling the hood of his sweatshirt. He returned to his seat coughing. The principal didn't say a word, just gave his boyish father a scowl to scold him. "Why do we have to be punished?" growled Riley in a low voice. "It was Katrine who hurt Luz and Ferg!" "What did you say, Ms. Bishop?" asked the principal offendedly. She refused to repeat. Her mother pressed her in a firm tone. "Why do we have to be punished?" she repeated with tears in her eyes. "Those bullies have been putting us through hell for months! You stupid adults haven't even lifted a finger!" "Riley!" her father called her back in an altered voice. Gerald Bright raised his hand, a gesture that could have meant many things including "never mind, let the kids blow off steam." Although the epithet "stupid adults" bothered him no small amount. The little girl pulled up her nose three times before someone offered her a handkerchief. She received two, one from Luz and one from Theo, who accepted without protest. The principal rose from his desk with an imperious and solemn manner. "I admit that the issue of bullies was... well... already known. None of our faculty had a clear idea of how to handle such a situation. For this reason, I must offer my sincere apologies. If you want to make your children change schools, I will not object because it is not my job to make you stay. It is theirs." He took a weary breath. The faces of those involved met for a moment before the man resumed speaking. Change schools? Now? A few weeks before Christmas? That's crazy! "Bullies will be punished with immediate effect," he began again, softening his tone of voice. "As for you two, you will be suspended for a week." Theo raised his hand, the man granted him the floor. "Mr. Bright, why? We have done nothing wrong." "I said that just now." Theo continued doubtfully, masking his indignation. "Then you should also punish the students in room A-3!" "Why should I?" Riley intervened; that performance had reached the height of ridiculousness. She stood up and stabbed the principal with her gaze. "You just don't understand anything! Theo and I are being punished because we didn't call a teacher, while the others who didn't do anything are not!" Her father put his hands on her shoulders and guided her to her seat. "That's enough, young lady! Apologize to the principal right now!" She refused, pouting. Such a gesture sent her parents into a rage. Luz stood up. "Riley is right, you don't understand anything!" Her mother scolded her in Spanish, ordered her to apologize and return to her seat, but Luz answered her in kind in the same way. Theo also recoiled at her words. "What kind of principal are you? You are just like our teachers, the victims get punished and the perpetrators don't!" Mr. and Mrs. Bennet argued with their son accordingly, as Mr. and Mrs. Bishop and Mr. and Mrs. Mendoza had done with their child. A fuss of mixed and excited voices arose. Gerald Bright had lost control of the situation and it was all due to the whim of... Riley Bishop. "That annoying girl!" he told to himself. He ranted as he had never done in his long career as dean. "Quiet!" Everyone stopped. The principal cleared his throat, again, and began to speak confidently. "All three of you are right in saying that I should also punish that class, but for reasons I won't go into, I won't. By pointing it out in this offensive way, however, you have shown me that you do not know how to show respect toward me, so your punishment is legitimate and justified," the bald man ruled. Luz raised her hand. "If they are suspended, I would like Ferg and I to be treated the same way." All the adults were surprised. Riley and Theo, however, smiled at her. "Why would you want that, Ms. Mendoza?" the principal asked. "For reasons I won't explain, I just want it," replied Luz saccharine. Gerald Bright went ballistic. "All right, if that's what you want I'll accommodate you! One week's suspension for the four of you and I expect a sincere and heartfelt letter of apology from you that you will read to me the following Monday. Do I make myself clear?!" The three sixth-graders nodded. "So be it," concluded the frustrated principal, "you are free to go. Have a good day, everyone."

I have one of each. The protective briefs and the snap on are about the same and I've found they hold about 15oz before they start to leak when using the pads that they come with. When I'm wearing diapers my typical release is 10 to 12 oz, so I need to change right away. Adding another soaker pad would help. The lounge briefs hold more like 12 oz but could benefit from added soakers. Overall, I found the design with the leak guards and stay dry lining worked well and it was very much like using a good disposable. One problem I had was the water proof part has fabric on the inside that also gets wet which means you can't hang it up to dry and use it again later in the day.  

Chapter 64 – Changing Times Mrs. Katrina went through the contents of the boxes on the floor of the large, closet-like cabinet, but she could not come up with anything that looked like it would easily slide over the boy’s large plastic cast contraption. And we’ll need access to his diaper in any case – I can see why he was in the outfit with the snaps. But the romper, or whatever it was, was soiled and damaged – he needed to wear something else. Zack half stood, leaning on his scooter behind her, trying to look over her shoulder occasionally, but also trying to mostly keep his gaze on his scooter or the floor. He felt exposed, wearing the just giant hospital diaper, surrounded by police officers, going about their business. It reminded him of being in the emergency room again, being examined by a raft of medical professionals, wearing just a soggy diaper. That one was soggy because I’d been swimming in it. This one is just… soggy. He sighed and looked down along his tummy. The front of his diaper was closer to his nipples than it was to his navel. The white plastic was stretched taut by the blue-tipped upper tabs that nearly met in the middle of the it. A narrow band of light green showed at the edge, where it had folded down by a fraction of an inch in response to him leaning on the handlebar of his scooter. He could feel a corresponding corrugated line of plastic running across his bare back, and he shivered involuntarily. I hope that they find me something better than this to wear. The social worker was getting tired of bending over into a cabinet – it was starting to strain her lower back. With a flourish, she pulled out a longish light blue tank top, holding it up in front of her. She realized it was likely a coverup for the beach or beside a swimming pool, but it could serve to give the child a little coverage, without having to be pulled up over his injured leg, or wrestled with during his diaper changes. She turned it around, and then frowned… the front of it had characters from a children’s TV show on it that, she knew, was aimed at a younger audience. There was a princess in a purple dress, and a tiara, holding the reigns of a horse, but at least there was also a princely character standing on the other side of the horse, wearing a green waistcoat, although both of them looked like they were six. She turned towards Zack. “Let’s see if this fits on you, buddy. I know it’s probably not to your tastes, but at least it goes down past your waist, and it’s blue.” Zack barely raised his eyebrows as he lifted his arms for the lady. Wearing anything was better than wearing nothing. And the way his luck was going today, the outcome could have been worse. He thought about the nightie he’d been put in up at the trailer, and shuddered. “It’s fine,” he whispered. Mrs. Katrina unrolled the light cotton fabric once it was past his head, and then she pulled the hem down as far as it would go. It reached the top of his thighs, covering the front of his diaper, although some white plastic remained exposed behind him. But still, it was an improvement. She reached into the box again and came back with a light purple hoodie that zippered up at the front. It kind of worked with the coverup, in that the tone of the colours matched. It looked like it would fit him, if snuggly. Mrs. Katrina blew a breath out between pursed lips. He needed something to wear outdoors over the sleeveless top. She folded it without showing it to him, and tucked in under one arm, then quickly pushed the boxes back into he cabinet as far as they would go, and closed the door. Back in the interview room, Zack drank a bit more of his orange juice while Mrs. Katrina typed something on her phone. Then, there was a tap on the door, which was resting in a closed position, but not latched. Mrs. Katrina pulled the door open, allowing Officer Riley admittance to the room. The officer held the package of diapers aloft. “I managed to find these at the pharmacy – they had them behind the counter. They’re called Run N’ Play, not Roll N’ Play, but I figured they’d work for you. They’re size for up to eighty-five pounds – I assume you probably don’t weigh much more than that, Adam.” Adam raised his eyes but made no expression. He scanned the package she was holding, his eyes surveying the two designs – a yellow rubber ducky, or, the animal print. They look like baby diapers. I think these are actually the ones Kelly was showing me in the car, the new ones from that doctor’s office. He raised his eyebrows slightly. At least they’re not enormous. Mrs. Katrina did a semi-squat and put her forearms under Zack’s arms from behind, in preparation for lifting him off of the scooter. Officer Riley stepped around her and put her hand on the scooter to steady it, and then Zack found himself levitating and being placed onto the table that was affixed to the wall. He slid himself onto it to assist the lady, who was grunting with the effort. Officer Riley rolled the scooter out of the way, and then the social worker put a gentle hand on Zack’s chest, and another one behind his head, leaning him back so that he was in a prone position on the desk, with his legs hanging over the edge. She took the purple sweatshirt and folded it into a square, before tucking it behind his head. He looked up at the yellowing and stained drop-ceiling above him, and fixated on a sprinkler head that protruded through it, as the police officer rolled the hem of this shirt up until it was almost under his chin, in order to uncover the oversized diaper underneath it. Mrs. Katrina tore along a perforated line on the top of the bag of diapers the officer had found, extracting one of the rubber ducky ones. She thought about asking if Adam had a preference, but then changed her mind. He’d be in all of them, sooner or later, so there was no point opening up an avenue for debate. With swift, efficient motions, Officer Riley ripped open the upper and lower tabs on the child’s outer diaper. Some of the cover material tore away with the tabs, so she rolled the diaper into a bundle as she pulled it out from underneath him, even though it was mostly dry. There was a damp spot in the rear of the larger diaper, but evidently the smaller one that he was wearing inside it had shouldered most of the workload. She was slightly surprised to note how swollen the toddler diaper had become – the front of it was yawning open, and the tabs, which were barley at the edges of the diaper, looked strained. The core of it was almost cylindrical between his legs, and everything around the lion cub printed on the front was now of a yellow hue. There was a slightly stronger pee smell present now, but it still wasn’t very strong. “You should write a testimonial for Huggies, my friend, because I think this little diaper went above and beyond the call of duty today. But it’s time to get this one off – I’m sure you must be tired of being wet for so long. Are you okay if we open it up?” Zack took his eyes off the ceiling and found the stern, kind face of the police officer. Blushing heavily, he nodded, and then he kept his eyes on hers, looking for signs of disgust or disappointment, but he saw only kindness and concern, as she pulled back the tabs and then slid the sodden disposable out from under him, leaving his back and bottom in contact with the cold, hard desk. He shuddered involuntarily. The officer deftly bundled up the diaper, securing it into a ball with its tabs, before putting it on top of the outer diaper. Then, she changed her mind, and ended up wrapping the inner diaper in the outer diaper, before depositing both into a waste basket on the floor in the corner of the room. “The cleaners are going to be looking for blood when they find this,” she said to the room. The social worker moved in next, unfolding the new diaper as she stepped up to Zack. “This looks like it’s much better suited to what you need, little guy,” she said, then paused, before clearing her throat. “I don’t suppose you bought any diaper cream at the pharmacy, officer? It looks like he has some diaper rash.” The officer came over and had a look, partially lifting his uninjured leg with her hand at his ankle. There was indeed two patches of skin between his legs that were pink, with raised, irregular edges. Furrowing her brow, she looked at the social worker, then said, “Give me a moment.” She walked out of the interview room, leaving the door sitting partially open. Zack blushed harder, as the social worker scooped up his legs under the knees with one arm, bending his waist up like he was doing leg lifts, before sliding the back of the new diaper underneath his rear, and then laying him down on top of it. She reached between his legs and pulled the front up, so that it was lying on his tummy, where it went just past his belly button, rather than up to his chest. She kept one hand on top of the diaper. “We’ll pause here for a moment, Adam – I think officer Riley has gone looking for some diaper cream.” A moment later, two police officers walked up the hall and glanced through the open door, before quickly looking away. Zack made momentary eye contact with one of them, a tall, older man with grey hair and a mustache. He turned his head away from the door and now studied the wall off to his left. A couple of minutes past with agonizing slowness, and then the female officer breezed back into the room. “I remembered that one of our desk sergeants had just come back from mat leave, so I thought she might have something in her purse that we could use, but she did me one better, and pulled her diaper bag from her car, so I have diaper cream, and I have baby powder.” “And,” she said, with a slight note of humour in her voice, “I have some gloves I extracted from the first aid kit. Katrina, do you want me to…” She let her voice trail off, but the tone suggested that she hoped that Mrs. Katrina did not want her to do whatever it was that she didn’t finish saying. “No, I’ve got it. I’m sure you have things to do, Officer Riley. Thank you very much for your help with our young friend here. This is my situation now. Do you want to thank the officer for being so kind to you, Adam?” Zack, at barely above a whisper, said one word. “Thanks.” “It was nice to meet you Adam, and we may be talking again, if I can figure out if someone is looking for your, or what, but in the meantime, be a good boy for Mrs. Katrina, okay? And don’t be afraid to tell her anything you want to. You would be doing both of us a big favour, if you could tell us a bit more about yourself. I’m sure someone, somewhere, is very worried about you.” With that, the officer left the room, and Mrs. Katrina pulled a blue medical glove on one hand, before opening the tin of diaper cream with the other. She applied it gingerly at first, but then with a heavier hand, because the rash under the child looked irritated. She wanted to bring it to a halt. She finished with a generous sprinkling of baby powder, and then she stripped the glove off and tossed it into the receptacle, before once again drawing up the front of the diaper, and then snuggly fastening the single stretchy tabs on either side, one at a time. They came to just inside his hips, where they left the rubber ducky unobscured. Zack felt the diaper close, and with that, a bit of relief. At least he wasn’t completely exposed anymore. Opening and closing his legs slightly, he immediately ascertained that the new diaper fit him better than either of the previous ones had, and that it was soft and warm and not excessively bulky. It was also fairly muted, not really making a sound. It would produce a soft crunching noise if he moved notably, such as when he sat up, with the help of a hand behind his head from the social worker, but the cacophony of crunches and crinkles that had accompanied his every motion up to now were gone. As he slid down off of the table and gingerly put some weight on his casted leg, he could feel that the diaper flexed and moved with him. For once, the description on the packaging seems to be accurate. This feels like a larger version of the baby diaper that lady gave me. Zack took a cautious step forward, feeling the soft material flex between his legs and the stretchy side panels conform to his waist. He reached down and lifted the hem of his coverup, which had fallen down to his waist when he got up off of the table, and looked at his diaper, following the yellow dashes of the wetness indicator down to where the diaper folded and disappeared underneath him. It’s not bunching up too much. He smoothed the fabric down as best he could, achieving total coverage of his diaper at the front. He did not know what the situation was out back, but felt that most of the diaper was probably covered. Mrs. Katrina put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Hang on there, my friend – let me get your scooter. I don’t want to be taking you to the hospital tonight, because you’ve damaged your leg any further.” She pulled his scooter over to him, and he positioned himself on it, enjoying the feeling of being warm and dry, at least for a little while. A soft baby powder scent hung in the room as they turned out the lights and walked towards the main office, where several people wearing uniforms were working at desks. “Wa… wait…”, Zack said in a low voice. The social worker stopped and looked down at him. He was looking back over his shoulder at the interview room. Inside his head, a battle was raging. Part of him wanted to walk away and leave the pacifier and the romper way behind him. But he kept thinking about what might happen if Kelly somehow managed to track him down. “M.. my… paci…” the words died in his mouth. He took a breath and looked at the floor and spat out what he was trying to say. “My pacifier is in my romper.” “Oh…., okay, sorry, let me go get it for you – we probably shouldn’t leave your old clothes lying around in any case. Is it okay if I throw out the romper after I get your… pacifier?” Zack nodded solemnly. Mrs. Katrina walked back into the interview room, happy to note that it hadn’t locked behind them. She flicked the lights on and picked up the torn garment, flipping it over in her hands until she found the tether clipped to the inside of the collar, and then she used it to extract the purple soother from inside the material. Finished, she tossed the damaged romper into the trash can, on top of the folded diapers, flicked the light off again, and walked back out to Zack. “Do you want your paci in your basket, or on your new shirt?” “Basket…” Zack whispered. Mrs. Katrina placed it in his basket, and then she guided him down the hall and into the main office. “To whom do I owe a thanks for these baby products…?” she asked the room. A lady sitting at a desk in the middle of the room raised her hand. She looked a bit younger than Katrina, but older than Officer Riley. Mrs. Katrina walked towards her, trailing Zack behind her with one hand, and carrying his bag of diapers with the other. The lady looked at Zack, who was just about at eye level with her from her seated position. “Did they get your bum tidied up, little man?” Zack nodded, blushing deeply once again. Mrs. Katrina placed the baby powder and the diaper cream on the desk. The lady looked up at her. “Do you think he’ll be needing them again?” The social worker squinted in thought. “Well, he will need to be changed again, and he does have a bit of a diaper rash going on – I think he wasn’t changed often enough.” She turned her gaze towards Zack. “You’ve had a busy day, haven’t you?” Zack looked up and then quickly looked away. “I have a plastic bag in my drawer,” the lady offered. “I’ll throw these in it for you. I have a bunch more at home – my mom threw me a baby shower, and I still have enough infant supplies to stock a small store.” “How old is your little one?” Mrs. Katrina inquired, as the seated officer pulled a bag from a desk drawer. She turned a picture that was on the corner of her desk around, showing a smiling infant wearing a light blue hat and white one-piece pajamas, propped up in a chair.  “He’s five months old. I would have liked to have stayed on leave longer, but my husband just took a new job, and we needed the stability of my full paycheck.” “Awww, he’s so cute. What’s his name?” “Anthony, after my father-in-law. But we call him Anthie.” “Well, thank Anthie for us, for giving a couple of his baby shower gifts to Adam here. Isn’t that right, Adam?” Zack nodded. Mrs. Katrina took the bag from the sergeant’s outstretched arm, and then she placed it in the basket on the front of his scooter. “I’ll carry your diapers, you can carry your changing supplies, fair?” Zack nodded again, now feeling like his cheeks were completely aflame. Mrs. Katrina put a hand on his back and guided him out towards the lobby, which was a different entrance than Zack and Officer Riley had come in through. There was a young, pretty female police officer stationed at a very large, curved counter that had a desk built behind it. There were all sorts of radios and forms and screens behind the counter, but the officer looked slightly bored, leaning over a ledger of some sort. Her brown hair was up in a tight bun, just below the brim of her cap. She looked up as they came into the area behind the counter. “Do I need you to open the doors into the lobby?” Mrs. Katrina asked the officer. “No, they will open from the inside if you hit the green button on the wall. Hit the button and then the silver square beside it, and the door will open automatically, so it will be easier to get the scooter through.” She directed a friendly smile at Zack, who responded by pulling his shirt down further at the front. However, he had to conduct an awkward three-point turn to get out from behind the counter and follow Mrs. Katrina back into the office and around to the door that allowed admittance to and from the lobby. He directed a shy smile back at her, but then quickly turned his head when she met his eyes and gave him another smile. She saw my diaper for sure. At least the back is plain white. He put his head down and rolled along behind Mrs. Katrina as she punched a green knob on the wall, and then a square metallic plaque beside it. The windowless lobby door unlatched and motored outward, into the lobby, which was floored and walled in marble, and looked distinctly upscale, compared with the back of the operation. Zack headed towards the main doors, searching for a button that would open them, but Mrs. Katrina put a hand on his shoulder again, and said “This way, Adam.” She steered him towards a slatted wooden bench that was across from the long counter. Putting a hand under his arm, he intuited that she wanted him to transfer from the scooter to the bench, so he did. Then, she put his bag of diapers down next to him, and wheeled the scooter across the room, to the corner where the counter met the wall, leaving it standing there. She leaned over the counter. Zack strained to hear what she was saying to the officer. “I’m going to go out to my car and make some phone calls – is it okay if I leave him here for a few minutes? I moved his scooter away from him, because we don’t know his history and he may be a runaway. But he’s not going to get very far without it.” The lady behind the counter appeared and looked over at Zack. Looking at her, Zack closed his legs and tugged his shirt over his thighs as far as it would go, but then realized that he was sitting next to an open bag of diapers, in any case. He let go of his shirt and dropped his eyes to the floor. “If he makes a break for it, I have the radios right here, I can have a chopper up within five minutes,” the young officer said, causing Zack to look up again. She gave him a wink. Mrs. Katrina laughed. She turned towards Zack and spoke while walking to the glass and metal doors that opened up into the well-lit parking area at the front of the building, where a nondescript blue sedan sat in a parking spot in an otherwise empty row. “I’m going to head out to my car and make some phone calls, Adam. Stay here with the officer, and I’ll come back to get you in a few minutes.” Zack nodded. What other choice do I have…?  

First I am peeing wrong.     Now I am pooping wrong. https://amp.theguardian.com/wellness/article/2024/may/13/how-to-poop-correctly   Is Google trying to tell me something?