Jennie's Potty-training Chapter 2 By Baby Jennie

[babyjennie]

Thanks Baby D, Diapermike and Baby Paul for your encouraging comments. Here's the next exciting installment. I hope it makes you wet your nappies. Hugs from Baby Jennie

Chapter 2. Baby's First Accident

Since I had been put to bed so early, I awoke rather early the following morning, and lay there listening to the silent household. Even though it was Saturday, a day I usually enjoyed sleeping late, I needed to do a wee-wee in a really bad way! I knew that the toilet was off-limits to me now, and was debating with myself whether or not I could sneak into the bathroom, pull down my nappy and use the loo unnoticed. While I was still mentally arguing, Mum walked in with a big smile on her face and pulled down my top sheet.

“Good morning, Babycakes! How are we today? Are we still dry?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached under the tight leg band of the plastic panties beneath my onesie, and expertly probed my nappy around the crotch. “Still dry, I see!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Well, you can't hold out forever. Let Mummy dress you first, baby, and then you can help me dress Angie.”

I pouted up at her in misery and whined; “Oh Mum! Do I really have to wear nappies? I learned my lesson yesterday! I promise I won’t ever tease Angie about her potty-training again. I’ll be good, really!”

“Oh I know you’ll be good - really! Yes, you do have to wear your nappies! Don’t think of this as a punishment, but rather your small contribution towards helping us successfully potty-train your little sister. Besides, I think this might be fun! Oh and by the way; as part of your new status, I think it would be more appropriate if you called us Mummy and Daddy from now on. Hop out of bed now baby, and we’ll dress you for the day.”

I slowly climbed out of bed and Mum - I mean Mummy - led me by the hand waddling into Angie’s room. She unsnapped and removed my snug onesie, and then reached into a dresser drawer and pulled out a new lemon-yellow folded garment. She shook it out, and I could see it was some kind of stretchy terry cotton girl’s romper suit. It had short sleeves and a high round collar adorned with white lace frills. “Okay, let’s put this on you, honey. It will be good for playing in.” The snug elasticised waist and leg bands and the full-cut bubble bottom seemed to emphasise my bulky nappies underneath even more when I had it on. She turned me around while she zipped the garment closed up the back, and then ran her fingers through my lustrous long blonde hair. “I think it's time to fix your hair in a more suitable style,” she murmured. “Sit down on the stool here while I comb you out, baby.”

Mummy made a part down the middle of my head, drawing the long hair to either side. She then combed my hair down in the front over my forehead. With a pair of sharp scissors, she created a neat, even set of bangs, a fraction of an inch above my eyebrows. The hair on each side of my head was brushed straight, and then braided into neat six-inch blonde pigtails bound with hair elastics. A little yellow satin ribbon was tied into a pretty bow at the end of each pigtail, matching my romper perfectly. When I saw myself in the mirror I was truly shocked, and let out a small yelp. Mummy tried to reassure me, telling me that I looked like a really cute little girl! Nobody would know that I was really a boy, unless they knew me well. That didn’t make me feel any better, of course.

We then walked over to Angie’s bed and woke my sleeping sister. While waking from her sound sleep, she groggily asked us, “Who is the girl standing next to you, Mummy?” She then recognised that the girl was her new ‘baby sister,’ Jeremy. She was so thrilled to see me dressed in my rompers and pigtails, her cute little face lit up. “Time for you to hop out of bed and be dressed just like Jeremy, sweetie-pie. But let’s check your diaper first.” Just as she did for me, Mummy checked Angie’s nappy and gaily announced that she needed to be changed at once.

Turning to me, Mummy pronounced, “Now you can be Mummy’s little helper, honey.” Angie’s cloth night nappy was saturated, and I helped Mummy change her on the padded change table. I had to dump the soggy nappy and damp pink baby panties in the nappy bucket under the table, while Mummy spread a papery pink disposable under my sister’s bottom. Mummy thoroughly cleaned her pink bottom and thighs, then used a fresh baby wipe to carefully swipe along her puffy little slit in front several times, until Angie began giggling uncontrollably. I poured on the powder and my smiling Mummy rubbed it in, and then brought the front flap over my chortling sister’s powdery tummy. During the day Mummy usually only tapes a disposable diaper around her hips, and it was no surprise that Angie also ended up wearing a yellow terry romper over her crackling disposable, so we were dressed like twins again.

Mummy then shepherded Angie and me into the kitchen for breakfast. Dad was reading his newspaper at the kitchen table when we entered, and he looked up at us and grinned hugely. “My goodness! Don’t my ‘girls’ look pretty today!” I blushed, but couldn’t think of a clever comeback. That’s when I noticed that in addition to Angie’s usual booster seat, her old pink highchair was standing beside the breakfast table. Dad explained to Mum, “I’m afraid since we don’t have another booster seat, Jeremy will have to sit in Angie’s old highchair for his meals. I’m sure glad we didn’t give it away.”

“Why can’t I just sit in a regular chair, Dad…dy? I am NOT sitting in a stupid highchair!” That was a mistake! Before I could react, Daddy leapt out of his chair and snatched me up, and smacked my thickly padded rear hard enough to hurt. SMACK! He dumped me heavily on the wooden highchair’s pink padded vinyl seat, strapped me tightly in with the attached worn white leather crotch and waist belts, and then angrily snapped the tray table in place.

“This is where you will be sitting for all your meals, little one - and no arguments! Do you hear me?” I was smart enough not to say anything to further enrage him, and I meekly sat there and silently nodded, my lower lip trembling uncontrollably. The smack hadn’t hurt that much, but it was so humiliating when he treated me like a naughty two-year-old. Tears of shame welled up in my eyes, but I willed myself to stop crying like a sissy baby and managed to hold them back. Mummy ignored my protruding bottom lip as she clipped a pink terry bib around my neck, before smoothing it out over my chest. A plastic bowl of milky cereal and a spoon were placed on the wide pink wooden tray in front of me.

While eating my breakfast in sulky silence, I could no longer retain my aching bladder. I gave in with a barely repressed shudder and flooded my nappies with hot urine. I experienced the strangest feeling of combined relief and embarrassment, in addition to a weirdly pleasant sensation of creeping heat around my loins. I had been holding it for so long, the comforting warm stream seemed to last forever, trickling slowly out my twitching peenie. I tried not to let it show that I was saturating my nappies while I quietly finished eating my breakfast, and I had no idea when my bladder finally emptied.

When everyone else had finished eating, I asked Mummy the most difficult question I ever had to ask in recent memory. While still trapped in the humiliating pink highchair, in a low voice I muttered; “Can you change my nappies, Mum?”

“What did you say, Baby Jeremy?” she snapped in obvious annoyance, as she handed me a pink sippy-cup full of watered-down orange juice.

“Mummy, would you please change my nappies?” I asked in a slightly louder voice, ducking my head in shame as I corrected my mistake.

“Certainly, baby! After you finish your juice, I would be happy to oblige. Angie, then you can be Mummy's little helper and help me change your baby sister’s nappies.”

Angie seemed thrilled at the prospect of helping Mummy change my nappies. When my sippy-cup was empty, Mummy took it from me, then unlocked and removed the tray, and released me from the highchair restraints. After she lifted me down, we all walked - I waddled heavily - into Angie’s bedroom. I was instructed to climb up on the padded vinyl-covered changing table and lie down on my back. Mummy unsnapped the crotch of my stretchy yellow rompers and let the front flap flip up over my chest. My stiff pink plastic panties were pulled down and off, and the heavy wet nappies unpinned and removed as well. They were thoroughly soaked in the crotch, and smelling strongly of fresh urine. Mummy wrinkled her nose in disgust and dumped the stinky cloth nappies in the big white diaper pail that was partly filled with Angie’s soiled cloth nappies.

“I think we should buy you your own diaper pail, Jeremy,” Mummy suggested brightly. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? We could even print your name on it!” It was hard to appear excited about owning my own nappy bucket. “Angie darling, can you hand me two of Jeremy’s cloth nappies, please?” While Angie slowly counted out the fluffy white cloth nappies for me from the stack under the changing table, Mummy was busy cleaning, oiling and powdering my bare bottom and groin.

“Here are Jeremy’s nappies,” Angie offered helpfully.

“Why thank you, sweetheart! Can you fetch me some clean baby panties from that open drawer of dresser, please?” Mummy placed the nappies under me along with a disposable nappy liner, and pinned them on me just as tightly as the clerk did at the store, using two of the pink plastic pins to secure each side. Angie returned with some bright yellow plastic panties that snapped up the sides at the front, and waited patiently while my nappy was pinned in place. Mummy again thanked Angie profusely for her help, before she slid the opened fresh panties under my obligingly raised rear. Positioning the front on top of my tightly pinned nappies, she snapped the sides together and then checked that any stray bit of cloth was completely sealed inside. Satisfied, Mummy then pulled down my stretchy yellow romper bottoms and snapped the front to the back under my bulging crotch.

“Okay, you’re all done! Thank you Angelica, for helping Mummy change the baby. Do you want to go outside and play in the backyard, sweetie?” Angie agreed with great enthusiasm, and so we headed for the back door. By now my sister understood that whenever she was playing outside in the yard, she had to wear her toddler harness and a leash, so she couldn’t accidentally wander off. Our backyard was not completely fenced, only lined with low oleander bushes for most of the perimeter. My sister waited impatiently while Mummy took down her old white leather toddler harness, before fastening the straps around her chest and waist. I idly wondered why Mummy was using her worn old harness, but not for long. She grabbed Angie’s new, larger, pink leather toddler harness from the hook behind the back door, and threaded the straps over my head and arms before I could back away. She swiftly spun me around and buckled the chest strap in the rear between my shoulder blades before I could react.

"I don't need a toddler harness!" I wailed in dismay, plucking impotently at the strong leather straps while she buckled the waist belt tightly closed behind me as well. The pink toddler harness was a little larger than Angie’s old white one, and could easily be made to fit me by altering the adjustable chest and shoulder straps, which Daddy had done already. In addition, the new harness even had a wide lockable crotch strap, which made it impossible for the wearer to remove. Mummy slapped my bare thighs wider apart and kneeling behind me, reached between my spread legs. She plucked the pink leather crotch strap dangling from the front and pulled it back between my thighs, threading the end through a buckle attached to rear waistband.

Mummy stood and tugged the crotch strap tighter at the back, and I felt my soft fluffy nappy being pressed even more snugly against my genitals as I was involuntarily lifted onto my tippy-toes. She released her grip and when I dropped back on my heels, my thick nappy remained tightly pressed between my bowed legs. To my ears, the small ’click’ of the rear lock closing sounded like a prison door slamming. Mummy tugged on the big brass ring riveted near the rear buckle of the chest strap, and explained that even though I didn’t really need a toddler harness, she felt that it was important that Angie and I were treated exactly alike while we were both wearing our nappies.

With my bottom lip practically dragging on the ground, we were led outside into our spacious backyard. There I could see two fine chain leashes now attached to the clothesline pole in the centre of the recently mowed lawn. One leash was securely clipped to the ring riveted in the middle of the chest strap of Angie’s harness, out of her reach behind her back, and the other slender length of chain was padlocked to mine. My range was limited to about twenty feet from the pole, so I couldn’t leave the backyard even if I’d wanted. I felt like a naughty puppy being restrained on a leash!

I played listlessly with Angie in our sandpit at first, although she thoroughly enjoyed having someone - anyone - to play with. She now thought of me not only as her sister, but as her friend and equal, dressed and treated exactly like her. We made castles, tunnels and buildings in the sand for almost an hour, before it rather suddenly hit me that I needed to do a poo. I had not done poo-poos since yesterday morning, as usual. I tried to ignore the painful cramping feeling in my lower gut for a while, but before long the initial urge became an overpowering need. The thought of messing my nappies was repulsive to me, but finally I couldn't stand the sharp cramping pain in my bowels any longer.

I struggled upright onto my knees and when I thought Angie wasn’t watching, I took a deep breath and held it. It felt strange to be kneeling outside in the bright morning sunshine fully-dressed while trying to do a poo. But I slid my knees further apart and pushed down with my tummy muscles, and out surged a large solid log of poo-poo into my tightly pinned nappy. It hit the rear of my snug cloth diaper and stopped for a second, holding my sensitive poo-poo hole open as I quietly grunted to force the rest out. The firm turd began to bend and then spread slowly in all directions, so hot against my delicate anal ring and tender botty cheeks. Then there was another hot gush from my bowels, and a softer stream of sloppy poop filled the seat of my nappy. My bowels felt considerably better after relieving some of the pressure, but my bottom felt hot and mushy inside the messy diaper. Despite the uncomfortable icky squishy feeling, I pushed some more, and slowly filled the seat of my snug nappy to what I suspected was the limit. For good measure, I uncontrollably peed into my poopy nappy as well.

Talk about being a baby! I think this was as close as I could come: wearing a baby romper, toddler harness and baby reins, while playing in the sandpit in my wet and messy nappies. I was just about to call out to Mummy to ask for a nappy change, when I heard our front doorbell ring. I froze in fright and listened intently, and I distantly heard Mummy talking to someone at the front door. About thirty seconds later, our neighbour Michael came strolling around the corner of our house and into the backyard. At first the ten-year-old looked puzzled as he stared at us kneeling in the sandpit, obviously wondering where I was - until he finally recognised me, despite my beribboned pigtails, bulging hips, and effeminate toddler clothes. His mouth dropped open, and then all he could manage was; “Holy Cow! What happened to you, Jeremy?”

I wished I could have died! Because I was locked in the toddler harness and tethered to the clothesline pole, I couldn’t even run away to hide my shameful state. And of all times, here I was on my knees with wet and messy nappies, just like a real baby! “Hi Michael,” I greeted him weakly, completely embarrassed by my irremovable toddler restraints and my effeminate infantile appearance. When he hesitantly asked about my obvious thick nappies and sissy baby clothes, I haltingly tried to explain that Mummy and Daddy had asked me to help potty-train Angie, as if this justified my humiliating situation and feminine appearance. Michael stepped closer to the sandpit where Angie and I were still kneeling, and instantly detected the tell-tale earthy odour of a freshly filled nappy. He wrinkled his nose in disgust, sniffed the air loudly, and then frowned in confusion.

“It smells like someone has pooped in their nappies. That’s not you, Jeremy - is it?” What could I say? Obviously it was me! I shrugged my shoulders in embarrassed resignation, and grimaced as if to say; ‘What else could I do?’ Michael stepped closer to where I knelt, and then surprised me when he reached behind me to pat my bum. He squeezed and pressed my bulging diaper bottom through my tight romper suit, and gasped in shock at the size of the distinct poo-poo parcel in my pants. If there was any doubt before, there was none now! “Omigod! You did poop in your nappies! And you’re wet too! Are you a total baby?” After he snatched his hand away in disgust, I hesitantly tried to explain that I had been forced to wear nappies since last evening, and finally I had no choice. “I had to go!” I wailed in humiliated distress. My pride hit rock-bottom when I had to miserably ask my bemused young friend to go and tell my Mummy that I needed my nappies changed.

Michael laughed scornfully as my cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Your Mummy? Okay, baby! I’ll go fetch your Mummy!” He slowly turned around, walked up to the porch and knocked on the back door, watching me the whole time with an expression of stunned disbelief marring his handsome boyish features. I don’t know what he said to Mummy, but she strolled out a few minutes later carrying some of my clean nappies in one hand, and a big vinyl-covered, pink gingham bag full of diaper supplies over her shoulder.

I gazed up at her in horror and fearfully asked what she intended doing? “Well, you asked to have your nappies changed, sweetie! I came as quickly as I could,” she replied airily, as she unlocked the chain and the crotch strap, and then unbuckled and removed the shameful pink leather toddler harness.

“You’re not going to change me out here, Mummy, are you?” I pleaded in embarrassed confusion.

“Of course I am, honey! Why ever not?” Mummy chuckled at my apparent apprehension. She unfolded a vinyl-backed pink cotton changing mat flat on the grass, and instructed me to lie down on it. With Michael and Angie watching closely, she insisted on changing my poopy nappies right there in the middle of the back yard!

“But Mummy-” I groaned, my cheeks red and burning as she forced me to lie on my back on the crackling pink change mat.

“Shhh, baby! Everything’s okay. Shhh,” Mummy crooned reassuringly, as though she was coaxing a shy little girl to behave. She unsnapped the yellow playsuit, and the front crotch piece of the stretchy terry romper flew up over my tummy, almost striking my flushed face. “Oops! Careful, sweetie.” Mummy unsnapped the side clasps of my yellow plastic panties and ordered me to lift my bottom. “That’s it. Just a little higher, baby.” She tucked the back of my romper out of the way, and carefully slid the baby panties from under my raised rear, commenting freely on the thick brown smears around the leg bands. “And down. Oops! These pilchers will have to be soaked in Napisan! Yuck! You really did have to go poopies, didn’t you sweetheart? Look at all those nasty brown stains on your new panties.” She clucked her tongue in annoyance before continuing needlessly, “They won’t wash out, you know. Those brown poo-poo stains will fade to a kind of orange-yellow colour, unmistakable to any mother. Anyone who sees your stained pilchers will know my little Jeremy is not only a nappy-wetter, but a panty-pooper, too!” She wiped down and then carefully rolled the soiled yellow panties into a ball, as I cringed under the wide staring eyes of my young friend and my fascinated little sister.

“Angie? Will you fetch me some clean baby panties from Jeremy’s dresser drawer, please darling? These ones are too stained to use again. Thank you, sweetie.” Angelica happily dashed of to do her bidding, while Mummy unpinned my wet and soiled nappy. My cheeks were crimson with shame when she pulled the sodden nappy front down with a sticky ‘squelch!’ “Oh baby! What a big mess you made in your nappy! Oh well… Big babies make big messes, I suppose. My, my, look at all that poo-poos! It’s everywhere! Yuck-spuck! Lift your knees up to your chest, honey. That’s right… Good baby! Now spread those little legs wide for Mummy… Wider, baby... That’s it… Gosh, those nappy-liners do a good job!” She carefully dropped the heavily soiled pieces of lint in a scented orange plastic nappy sack, then used the relatively clean but wet front of my nappy to scrape away the worst of the mess. The filthy cloth was carefully slid from under my elevated rear and rolled up, then dumped in a used plastic shopping bag lying open beside her knees. She placed the offensive item aside with a grimace of distaste, and then turned her attention to my poopy bottom once more.

It took Mummy several humiliating minutes to wipe my heavily soiled botty cheeks and mucky crease clean of the sticky smelly excrement, and tears of shame sprang unwanted from my eyes when she took hold of the head of my shrivelled peenie. She used it as a handle to lift my genitals from side to side as she cleansed me with a handful of cool moist baby wipes from the slim plastic tub, till she was sure my little sack and stalk were totally free of sticky faeces. The orange nappy sack was almost full of brown-stained baby wipes by the time she was satisfied I was clean, and then she massaged the baby oil and then powder into my crotch and bottom. She placed two of the thick nappies together and quietly commanded: “Lift up, baby.” She slid the fresh nappies underneath me, positioned them correctly, and slipped some new nappy liners in place. “And down - good baby.” By the time Angie returned clutching a huge pair of pink plastic panties, Mummy had tightly pinned me into the soft fluffy nappies.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Mummy beamed at Angie. “You’re such a good little helper for Mummy!” She slipped the pink pull-up pilchers over my compliantly raised feet and drew them up to my knees, then helped me to stand so she could tug them up over my bulky diapered rear. When I was snugly dressed again in my tight yellow romper, Mummy cooed to me; “Okay Pumpkin, you’re all set. Michael, if you want to stay and play with Baby Jeremy and Angie until lunchtime, that would be fine.” After locking my harness in place and reattaching the chain, she checked Angie’s disposable diaper. Finding her only a little damp, Mummy decided my sister’s diaper change could wait until after lunch. She collected the remaining things in the diaper bag, and carrying the full nappy sack and the plastic bag containing my heavy stinky nappy slightly away from her body, she strolled back inside the house. I tried to explain what had happened to me since yesterday to Michael, but he couldn’t get over how much I looked like a pretty toddler girl with my new clothes, nappies and hairdo. I told him I couldn’t believe my transformation, either. I begged him not to tell anyone else about my being diapered and all, and he reluctantly assented. We played in the sandbox for the remainder of the morning, and I actually had a pretty good time, considering how I was dressed.

At lunchtime Mummy walked out and unleashed us, then removed our toddler harnesses and instructed us to toddle inside to eat. She asked Michael if he would like to eat lunch with us, and to my dismay, he happily agreed. After first ringing his Mum for permission, he was stunned into silence when I was lifted into the pink highchair and Mummy belted me into the padded seat with the attached crotch and waist straps, buckling me safely in place like a helpless infant. He continued to stare in open-mouthed wonder when she clipped a big yellow terry bib around my neck, but he still didn’t utter a sound. After the pink highchair tray was solidly locked in place, I was given a typical toddler’s lunch on a plastic Barbie plate. Mummy cut my sandwich into bite-size chunks, and my milk was served in a pink sippy-cup like Angie’s, while Michael had a regular whole sandwich cut in halves and a proper glass of milk. There wasn't much conversation during lunch, but I was acutely aware of Michael's eyes on me in the highchair the entire time.

After lunch, Mummy told Michael that it was time for Angie and me to take our afternoon naps. But she suggested if he wanted to come back and “play with the babies after their nap time,” he was more than welcome. Michael chuckled at my downcast expression, as Mummy was briskly scrubbing my grubby face and hands with a warm soapy washcloth, then he made his good-byes and departed with a wave, still chortling. After my restraints were removed and Mummy lifted me down from the highchair, I started heading for my bedroom. But she told me I should follow her into Angie’s room instead. I waddled into my sister’s room and found that in addition to Angie’s youth bed, Daddy had erected her old pink wooden baby crib that morning!

“Daddy and I feel it would be best if you spent as much time as possible with Angie during this ‘pre-potty-training’ period. Unfortunately, Angie’s room is not large enough to fit your regular bed in here with hers. So your father took Angie’s crib out of storage and set that up for you, Jeremy. This is where you will be sleeping from now on! I know it is a fraction small for you, but you will just have to curl up a little while you sleep.”

“But Mum, unh… Mummy! I can’t fit in there! I don’t want to sleep in a pink baby crib! It’s not fair! Why can’t Angie use the stupid old crib?” I couldn’t keep the childish whine of disappointment out of my voice.

“Because we’re trying to help Angie learn to behave like a big girl!” was Mummy's only condescending reply. It seemed that I was now even more of a baby than Angie, what with eating in a highchair and sleeping in the pink wooden baby crib! Mummy lowered the side rail with a clatter and ordered me to climb in, and I obeyed with grumbling reluctance. She then raised the high barred crib railing and locked it in place, and somehow I felt like I was in prison. Mummy asked, “Angie, would it be okay if we give a couple of your stuffed animals to your baby sister to share while she sleeps in her crib?” She was more than willing to loan me her stuffed Barney and a pink teddy bear, which Mummy brought over to my cot and placed next to me. “What do you say, Jeremy?” she demanded crisply.

“Thank you Angie,” I grumbled ungraciously in reply.

After tucking Angie into her bed, Mummy closed the drapes and wished us; “Sweet dreams, my pretty babies!” I gazed out through the wooden bars in despair, thinking that there could be nothing could be more degrading than this. Now I was supposed to sleep in a crib! Tired and dejected, I soon drifted off to sleep, which surprised me, since I hadn’t taken an afternoon nap in years. I awoke to find Mummy’s fingers probing inside my nappy, which of course was still dry.

I thrust aside the soft pink teddy that somehow ended up in my arms while I slept, and sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes when Mummy unlocked and lowered the crib side. Angie's diaper was wet through, and I helped Mummy change her and then she was dressed in her yellow romper suit again, just like me. Mummy gave us a sippy-cup of cordial to drink in the kitchen, and we each carried another full cup when we waddled outside. The rest of the afternoon was spent just like normal for Angie - and now for me. We played mostly in the sandpit, harnessed and chained in the backyard all afternoon. We hadn’t been outside for more than half an hour before I felt the first hot stream gush out of my peenie and drench my thirsty nappy in front. I didn’t bother to stop playing, and just enjoyed the wet warmth that unexpectedly surrounded my sensitive little genitals. To my surprise, Michael came back later and played with us in the sandpit for a few hours. When it began to get dark, he left us with a cheery wave. “See you babies tomorrow maybe,” he said with a huge departing grin.

Mummy checked our nappies when she came to unleash us, and I had to help change Angelica first, because her sagging pink diaper was wet and messy. While I was helping Mummy to clean her poopy little bottom with baby wipes, I wet my nappies again without even a second thought, and I was drenched by the time Mummy changed me. We then ate dinner with me secured in my highchair as usual, and immediately afterwards, Angie and I shared a bubble bath. I was surprised to find my nappy was already wet when Mummy took it off at bath time, and I was puzzled. I didn’t remember wetting it. Promptly at seven we were put down for the night, and Mummy even read us a Dr Seuss bedtime story. I slept in Angie’s - and now my bedroom, curled up in the pink crib. It wasn’t really too cramped, and I managed to sleep all right if I didn’t stretch out my legs. Luckily for me I was very small for a thirteen-year-old, and slept through the night relatively undisturbed by my odd surroundings.

Enjoying the story of poor Jeremy so far? Then post a response and let me know if you wanna read more. Hugs from Baby Jennie in Australia

[the diaper mike]

More plz

[Baby D]

I'm definitely looking forward to more!!

[tejay123]

Dude, this really rocks!!

I TOTALLY remember the original story. I loved it!! I really hope you match... or even better ( ! ) the ending !!

I wish I could thank you properly... this kind of awsome find (well, it is to me... I loved the original and you are just improving it) deserves pay.

Again, THANK YOU, and please do continue