The twists certainly aren't finished from here~ Just sayiiing~ Ah, okay. There's a reason why he's not getting any red flags. Okay, here's the third chapter of Troubles in Toddlerhood! - Chapter Three: The Mother-in-Law. - Bartolomea Zanetti was a bit heavyset, large breasts, large hips, and had curly black hair in a mop, but had a powerful and confident air about her. Celine watched the woman walk into the ladies room and take a look at the situation. When the woman gazed at her with hooded hazel eyes, Celine knew she was annoyed.   “Now, what if that was you, hmm? Couldn’t find somewhere other than the floor for these poor little ones?” she asked pointedly before she handed the law clerk a package of Luvs and three changing pads.   “I tried my best with what I had, ma’am,” Celine said politely.   “Hmph. Toddlers require more than ‘just your best.’ They’re starting out in life, so you need to pay attention. But I suppose your head is in the clouds, too wrapped up in being a law clerk to pay attention to the little things in life, like children.”   “Mom, please,” Erasmo tried to intercede, but to no avail.   “Hmph. She found these little ones. it’s up to you and her to properly care for them, and since she’s the one in the lady’s room, it’s up to her to change them. I can give her advice. Nothing more. If the two of you want to start a family, you can’t rely on me the whole time.” She looked at Celine with a stink-eyed glance, as she tried to put a diaper on Galina. “What in the world are you doing?”   “Putting a diaper on one of them? All three are girls, by the way.”   “You’ve never babysat before? Lord Almighty…here, I’ll show you. First, get the three changing pads, put each toddler on a separate pad, so that it soaks up any potential messes. …Well, come on, we haven’t got all night. …Good. Now, wipe down their private areas with a wet wipe; since girls have more sensitive areas than boys, you’re going to have to be very thorough.”   Celine started with Galina again, who had peed on her hands during the change; somehow, all three toddlers were still asleep. She went to wipe them off with the same wipe in disgust, but Mother Zanetti stopped her immediately.   “Nope, use a different wipe. Babies will do those things when they aren’t potty-trained. Now gently lift up her bottom, slide the diaper underneath. The colored side should be facing you. Now tape it up, make sure it’s not too snug or loose; you should be able to run two fingers between her stomach and the diaper area. Hurry up, we still have two more toddlers.”   Celine quickly finished the task, and Mrs. Zanetti quickly checked…before nodding in approval, picking up Galina who was drooling on the older woman’s shoulder, somehow still asleep.   “Now, before the next baby, make sure to wash your hands beforehand. …Good. Since you know how to do these things, now for the next one.”   “Why don’t you help?” Celine muttered, glowering at the older woman.   “Because if you’re taking care of these three, sometimes, you won’t have help,” Mrs. Zanetti said calmly, although her eyes betrayed her annoyance at her son's fiancée. “This is good practice. Come on now, we don’t have all night.”   The young law clerk quickly changed Svetlana and finally Tatiana before looking at her ruined jersey.   Thanks a lot, Tatiana. I paid over $120 for this custom-made jersey, and now you pooped all over it. Thanks again.   “Don’t they look so precious?” Erasmo said, his hazel eyes warm with fatherly love, despite his goth-like look with shaggy black hair, a loose-fitting black shirt with a skeleton pattern, baggy black jeans, and combat boots.   Not really? They’re just former daycare workers who just so happen to need diapers for giant messes.   It was what she wanted to think, but she had to admit that the three looked pretty damn cute as toddlers.   “Now for the blankets; they’ll get chills otherwise.”   Mother Zanetti, interrupting tender moments since the beginning of time. Celine sighed before grabbing the pink blankets, swaddling the three, as the group moved out of the ladies room. The older black bouncer was busy holding curious patrons back, whispering, “Shh…little ones are sleeping.”   “Well, I better get back home,” Mother Zanetti said with a sigh. “I left Ottavio in charge of the house, but he, Angelo, and Ulisse are a handful in their own right. Teen boys…”   The woman walked out of the restaurant, shaking her head in what seemed like disgust with her future daughter-in-law…or maybe the teenagers wrecking the house? Hell if she knew.   She looked at Erasmo in annoyance. “I don’t suppose you got stuffed animals for them?” the law clerk asked him sarcastically. “As a matter of fact, I did,” her boyfriend said with a smile; he either ignored the sarcasm or didn’t care. “New ones, too.”   Celine froze when she saw the stuffed animals, and she realized that her old housemates turning into toddlers was, in no way, a coincidence, as they put the three toddlers into car seats.   She quickly brought up her Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube pages on her phone, as Erasmo drove them back to their place. Normally, Svetlana, Tatiana, and Galina would have full Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube profiles; Svetlana did song covers (with an admittedly beautiful high soprano), Galina wrote scary short stories (and had them published), and Tatiana did anime drawings (which she had sold).   None of their pages existed.   Hospital records, there has to be some mistake…   Celine’s eyes widened in horror as she saw the dates of birth of her three former housemates: June 30th of last year. Even the time born, down to the second, was the exact same for all of them.   But that wasn’t the worst of it. The mother and father on the birth certificate? Her and Erasmo, even though she knew she had never gotten pregnant.   What the FUCK is going on?!   -   Hope y'all enjoyed~

Totally get it, I am due for colonoscopy. Awkward conversation has caused me pause, but honestly A) I have post-matriculation dribble to a big extent and B I can't 100% guarantee I won't have an accident while out.

Interesting chapter.  I’m curious to see how this plays out.  You’ve laid the ground work for several conflicts and future paths for the story with the obnoxious woman in the elevator and Will potentially exploring his feminine side. I rather doubt that a psychologist would provide as many direct answers and alternatives as Denise did.  A psychologist’s typical strategy is to ask lots of questions to get the patient to expound on their feelings and think of the alternatives on their own.  I understand that doing it the way you did speeds up the story. I’m curious as to why Will has a continuing need for the IV.  The only drugs he seems to be getting are the anti-nausea medication and the pain medication.  Both of those are given intermittently, not as a continuous drip and could be administered via an intravenous port. I’m looking forward to the future installments of the story.

Okay, it's been a while since this was updated...so update, I shall~   - Chapter Two: Double-Dribble. -   “Hey, you okay?” a familiar voice asked.   Constantin looked up to see a younger corsac fox, who looked at him curiously. Barclay Kilgallen. Haylee’s younger (by only a year; he was a freshman) brother.   “I’m fine,” the ermine said stiffly, his eyes no longer shedding tears.   “I mean, I know that you still want Lee to be your friend,” the young fox said shyly. “And she-”   “She’s made it clear she doesn’t want to know me - and you don’t know me either,” Constantin interrupted calmly, hefting his backpack and walking the long way around, away from Barclay…who was still following him.   “I mean, I could talk to her, Lee would’ve ran through a fire for you,” Barclay continued to talk, as he followed him over to the basketball court, the door wide open. “She’s just hurt, you know? It’s not worth throwing away-”   “I’ve already made my choice,” the ermine said coldly. “And she has every right to make hers.”   Constantin slammed the door on the corsac fox, immediately regretting it, but not feeling up to seeing if he had hurt Barclay or not. He needed time alone to shoot baskets. Class and everything about it could wait. It was the only thing that really calmed him down - and holy hell, did he need to calm down.   He put away his backpack and got out his basketball - an autographed ball by the Chicago Bulls and Chicago Sky players from when he was a child; his most prized possession - and dribbled a bit, the fancy dribbling moves that eluded the vast majority of the population coming naturally to him. Crossovers, hesitations, behind the tail, between the legs, in-and-outs, spins, backups, anything that could help him on the court, he did.   Then he practiced shooting from beyond the three-point line, a perfect arc every time from deep. Stepbacks, fadeaways, eurosteps, jump shots, floaters, finger-rolls, everything needed to score as a smaller point guard.   Soon enough, Constantin had worked up a deep sweat…and desperately felt like he needed to pee.   Freaking orange juice must’ve gotten to me…   He put his basketball back in his backpack and went into the locker room, bumping into his basketball coach almost by accident.   “Hey, kid.” Coach Aderinokun, a giant male elephant - bigger even than Xenia; he had played as a center for a few seasons in the NBA before retiring from knee problems - gazed down at the ermine. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”   “Sorry, Coach, just have to go to the restroom,” Constantin said, the urge to pee growing.   “Ah, that’s fair, but after that, you’ll go to class, right?”   “Yes, of course!” the ermine squeaked, quickly rushing and finding a stall, barely managing to get his pants down before the dam broke.   Oh, no, I didn’t do it again, did I?!   Other than a tiny wet spot on his panties (which, like all of the feminine clothing he owned, he despised) which was barely noticeable, it had gone into the toilet.   Thank goodness. Stupid bug…almost making me…   He shuddered, thinking of how close he had come to something embarrassing.   Okay, no more orange juice until I’m done with this bug.   Constantin put his pants back on, grabbed his backpack, and followed his coach’s advice, heading to history (he was too late for math, not that he cared; he was terrible at math, anyway): his second class, and one of the few things aside from basketball that he was somewhat decent at.   To his dismay, the ermine saw Xenia (who snickered at him), Dragan (who blew him a kiss), and Colleen and Carolina in the class - and worse still, the only available table spot was with the felines on either side.   The history teacher, a large middle-aged Indian cobra named Mrs. Sirajuddin, gazed at him with a calm, yet scrutinizing look.   “Ms. Tremblay, do take your seat,” she said, her eyes brooking no argument, as he took his seat next to the two caregivers, his head down, as they both looked at him curiously. “Now, my students, as has been custom in this class, we shall be talking about Project A, the politics behind it and the ultimate aftermath. So, Ms. Tremblay, since you came in late, what was Project A’s ultimate goal?”   “Project A - then called Operation Last Dawn of Wolves - was a Soviet project in 1963 that was supposed to deactivate the nuclear warheads of the United States and their allies during the Cuban Missile Crisis, before launching a massive offensive,” Constantin said confidently. “It was an airborne pathogen, supposed to cause nuclear meltdowns by adhering to the missiles. What they didn’t realize was that, while it did deactivate the missiles of every country, the airborne pathogen absorbed the nuclear energy, irradiating a lot of the world and affected humans and animals in a manner they didn’t predict, bonding their DNA and RNA into each other, mutating every human into the animals we are today.”   “Full marks,” Mrs. Sirajuddin said with a thin smile. “Yes, that indeed was the case sixty-five years ago, during what is known today as The Fallout. Of course, there was another complication, one that none of the then-humans had foreseen. I’m talking, of course, about Fallout Incontinent/Infancy Disease, known today as FIID.”   Constantin felt himself freeze. Were they really going to get into that? Was this a cruel joke?   “A fair number of students in this school have FIID,” Mrs. Sirajuddin continued. “It may be an uncomfortable topic to some of you here, but realize that ninety-nine percent of animals with FIID are just like you and I, just in need of more…care. They are equally-capable - possibly more so - as any other animal in terms of intelligence, just with more childish behavior. They are capable of playing sports, capable of holding down long-term jobs, capable of meaningful relationships. They may struggle, which is why some of us may have to be reminded that they are fellow animals like us, and deserve the same respect we do.” The cobra looked meaningfully at Xenia, who looked like she had swallowed a basket of limes. “What’re the one percent who aren’t like us?” Dragan asked.   The cobra sighed, her eyelids flickering with sadness. “Now the one percent who aren’t…completely fall into their headspace. Psychologically and emotionally, there is nothing separating them from an average infant. They cannot function in society and need help with literally everything. Their minds are still there, but cannot process anything outside of their headspace. Sadly, a lot of the countries left after The Fallout have historically institutionalized them, and even with the top scientists studying, there has not been a cure found yet. I hope they find one soon, for their sake. We are fortunate not to have that one percent in our school as of yet, but it’s only a matter of time, with ten percent of the youth population having this...”   Constantin looked down, not able to look his teacher - anyone, really - in the eye. He felt like the biggest piece of shit in the world, shunning his friends - and for what? Because of petty high school stuff? Because he was scared of “catching FIID” (even though he knew it wasn’t contagious)? Because the jocks would make fun of him if he did? But he couldn’t come out to his former friends, couldn’t come out to anyone, in case they outed him to his parents. That’s why he had his journal (his parents called it a diary, and to their credit, they didn’t pry into it): to write down all of the fears he had.   “Hey, MC, is it?” He looked at Carolina, the serval giving him a sympathetic look. “I understand it can’t be easy, knowing that three of your close friends have FIID.”   He couldn’t bear to correct her on the “friends” part.   “MC, if you want to visit them, feel free.” Colleen had spoken, the caracal’s eyes showing happiness. “We know you weren’t there for math, probably doing your own thing; we’re in all of your classes. If you ever want to drop by, say ‘hi’, maybe help out a bit, feel free. FIIDers could always use the help.”   “Thanks, I’ll…consider it,” Constantin said, just wanting to shoot more baskets, maybe even sink into the ground and disappear at this point.   Great. The only written class I’m even good at has been ruined. How can I look at ANYONE? How can I look at myself in the freaking mirror?!   You’ll deal with it. Three more years, and then you’ll never see them again in your life. Just suck it up for three freaking years. Make good enough grades to pass, then go to college, then go to the NBA. One-and-done. Make more money than you’ll ever spend. Easy.   He wished it was that easy. Something would go wrong, something had to go wrong.   And then it happened: he had a sudden urge to pee again.   “Mrs. Sirajuddin, can I use the restroom?” he asked.   The cobra teacher sighed. “Sure, but make sure-”   Constantin didn’t hear the next few words as he tore off towards the bathrooms with his backpack, the urge making him almost want to do the childish “potty dance”; he was that desperate to keep from soaking himself.   He finally saw a bathroom - an open bathroom, thank whatever deity others believed in - and went in…before he saw about two guys there staring at him.   Dammit, act cool, act cool.   Screw “cool”; you’re gonna piss yourself if you waste any more time!   The second voice won out, and he barely made it into a stall, pulling down his pants before the levee broke.   Please tell me I didn’t piss my pants?   He looked and sighed in relief; his panties weren’t wet.   I’m going to have to go to the doctor if the bug keeps persisting.   What if it’s-   IT’S NOT!   Constantin breathed in and out to calm himself. It was just a bug, nothing more. Stomach virus, bladder infection, maybe. And he wasn’t in any mood to see the family doctor; he didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him…which wasn’t far at all, considering the family doctor was a wildebeest.   Maybe I could see the school nurse? Maybe get an independent study, just in case? She’s always been good about keeping things from parents if necessary.   The only problem? Nurse Springleaf was always in the nursery with the FIID-affected teens.   Just perfect…   -   Hope y'all enjoyed~ I'll see you next time~

No idea about my older Hotmail account (haven't used it since forever) but the oldest email on my main Gmail account is this.  As for why, I haven't ever really been though and cleared out my inbox and a lot of this crap just sits there. I should probably have a clear out but churning through 18,691 emails doesn't sound like fun.