Courtney’s Bitter Pill of Desire (Part II posted 4/30/2024)

[BabyGirlSJ]

I. 

My face, deep red with a combination of embarrassment and tears, was on full display, the rest of my body fully moving in momentum to my locked-tight wrist, which was firmly in the grasp of the supervising party in my life, my Mommy, who’s infuriated look pulling me along said all anyone needed to know. I could have whined, I could have done anything, but I felt…paralyzed. Things like this had happened so much in my life lately that I didn’t know what else to do. I just more or less marched along, I didn’t know what else to do. It was so embarrassing. I wanted to be anywhere but here, but here I was, unable to leave.

It'd have been embarrassing enough if I was only in trouble. Making this whole thing even worse was what was around my waist. My bottom? Covered in poop. I had a diaper on, sure, but still, anyone within a 10000000 mile radius could smell it. It had a huge blowout, there were messy streaks going down my previously-pristine leggings. It looked every bit as bad as I smelled.  It wasn’t the first time I had one of these, but for whatever reason, this was different. I’d even had poopy blowouts in the mall before; today, I was just on a heater. Tantrums, all of that. At this point, I didn’t even care, and I figured that if this was how I was going to be treated, I might as well give Mommy what she wanted. We were a sight for anyone who bothered to pay attention; my Auntie Stef walked at a steady distance behind, carrying my “older” sister, who, judging from this whole scene, had clearly passed me in the maturity department.

“Unbelievable, just unbelievable, I’m at a complete loss for words,” Mommy bemoaned aloud, targeted at an audience of one, “all this, all this…embarrassment for Mommy, all because of a poopy diaper, a poopy diaper!” 

This end of the statement drew a few curious stares, but Mommy was undeterred. “A poopy diaper baby, you’ve ruined the day for all of us, and especially your sister, all because of a damn poopy diaper, something I think we see more than once per day? I don’t get it, I really don’t.”

Mommy was scary when she was upset because there were bits of calm mixed into the inner seas of her volcanic temper. 

“You just think you’re going to get to watch Gabby’s Dollhouse when your sister does when we’re home, well, you’ve got another thing coming, Missy. You’ll be lucky if you’re able to leave your playpen all week after this little display, ughh!” Mommy started again,  before once again showcasing the madness of it all, “…all because of a poopy diaper, unbelievable, even your sister doesn’t melt down like this because of an accident, and she’s expected to use the potty; you’re not, you go in your diapers, ugh, just unbelievable.”

I just tried to move fast in my complicated waddling state, my legs uncomfortably mixed with my own fecal matter, all while reflecting on the current events. Seeing my sister really surpass me and take her rightful spot as the older kid in the house, it just set me off.. It wasn’t fair, she got to have her ears pierced, and I had to watch! What should have been a delightful rite of passage for my sister, Mommy, and Auntie Stef, quickly devolved into my own tantrum on the floor of Claire’s shortly afterwards, to the delight of no one. Compounding it all was the fact that in the middle of this tantrum, I had made a runny poopy in my diaper, making a further mess even worse by throwing myself on my bottom in the middle of it all. All because I was supposed to watch the other three shop for my sister. I didn’t want to watch this! I just wanted to be anywhere else; or my own ears pierced. How dare they! 

As I was dragged across the mall floor by Mommy towards the family bathrooms, I snapped back into reality. I’d been falling into these mindsets more and more lately, which was concerning, but probably was something I’d better become more used to. I didn’t know when I’d ever be out of this treatment, if ever, so maybe I’d better just start giving into the end of the rainbow more;  I didn’t know where this was ultimately headed. I’m a little conflicted though; on one hand, this was my present and indefinite future reality, which thought this was what I always wanted, and I should be ecstatic, but on the other hand, this was my present and indefinite future reality, and it was embarrassing mostly and other times cringe worthy. It truly had become a textbook case of “be careful what you wish for”, forced into this due to my own missteps, unlikely to ever leave, at least anytime soon. As simple as my life had become, it was equally complemented by perceived complication. 

We finally got near a familiar sight, the family restroom sign pointed a direction that our destination was nearby. I was surprised Mommy took this detour; but then, why would she need to get the car seats poopy and make my Auntie Stef’s car stinky if she didn’t have to. Maybe, I guess, I didn’t know. Just guesses, my time for planning and those sorts of things had gone out the window a long time ago. Just as I was hoping for something uneventful, we turned the corner to the family restroom and…it was “out of order”. 

“Hmmm,” Mommy looked at Auntie Stef, “any ideas?” 

“Let’s just take everyone to the ladies room, I’ll take Amelia potty while you can take care of Courtney’s poopy diaper, there’s a place to change her there,” Auntie Stef informed her.

“Alright, ladies room it is,” Mommy still seemed annoyed, but obviously not with her sister.

We once again were off at Mommy’s brisk pace. Thankfully, the ladies room wasn’t too far away. I wasn’t too sure though, I didn’t like the fact that this was much more public than the family restroom we originally were going to use. As we went in the doorway, Auntie Stef took my sister, “want to go to the big girl potty with Auntie?”

“Mmhmm,” I heard Amelia say. 

“Alright, we’ll meet you out here when we’re done, see you soon,” Mommy smiled and kissed Amelia, before turning towards our destination. 

Mommy pulled me towards a back corner, where there were several changing tables, built in to the counters, each separated into different changing areas by a dividing wall, but set up in a way that multiple changes could take place simultaneously. As we approached, I saw another mom starting a similar job with her own toddler, who sounded about as thrilled as I was to have their diaper changed. I was still a crying, teary mess, so I had no room to talk. 

Mommy walked to the table next to the occupied one, setting down her brioche diaper backpack on a space behind the changing table. She moved my hand from her vice grip to around a metal rod by the structure, leaving me to stand awkwardly while she took everything out. A new diaper, a travel case of wipes, a changing pad, new clothes, nothing was spared; she even took out hand sanitizer for herself for after the change was done. Like I said, very prepared. As I stood there awkwardly, alternating my glances between Mommy’s pretty brioche Petunia Pickle Bottom bag and the environment around us. 

As I glanced, the other mom looked over, giving us both a half smile, before doing a bit of a double take at me. At 5’6”, I wasn’t the typical baby having my diaper changed.Soon, I felt Mommy pushing me towards the table, her immense strength overpowering me, “Up,” was all she said. As I moved my poopy bottom towards salvation, I noticed Mommy making a smile to the other mom who was looking at us. 

“Poopy diapers, doesn’t matter how big the baby, always gonna be poopy diapers, am I right? Just when I thought I had both of my girls out of diapers, this one decided her journey in them didn’t want to be over, and here we are!” Mommy said in a feigned exasperation of catharsis.

“Oh I can relate to that!” I heard the other mom say, “when her brother was born,” she began telling Mommy, motioning to the toddler she was changing, “she decided to cancel her own potty training, and I’ve got two loads of poopy diapers to change now! Gotta love motherhood!”

“Have lots of babies, they said…” Mommy began and laughed, to which the other mom laughed too. 

She pulled back my sodden leggings and began the dirty work. As she pulled them down my dirty legs, she pulled out a plastic bag, rolling the leggings into the bag, tying it shut, and walking over, past the other relatable mom. Mommy quickly tossed it away, there was no reusing of it, not in any known universe.

“Looks like a code brown and a half,” I heard the other mom say.

“Like I said, just another day,” Mommy laughed, coming back to find me, “it’s why they sell clothes right?”

As Mommy began pulling out wipes, the other mom must have finished, I heard her say goodbye, and Mommy happily bid her adieu. I always found mommies/moms to be such strange individuals. They were the only people I knew who could exchange pleasantries while being wrist deep in poopy. I guess it was a labor of love or something sappy. 

“Phew, phewwie, you stink stinkyyy,” Mommy teased somewhat melancholy; I think she’d rather be doing anything but this right now, especially given her current state of furor. Before taking on the diaper, she ran a series of wipes up and down my legs, cleaning off the blowout aftermath, putting the wipes in another plastic bag she’d popped out. Soon after, she opened the diaper, revealing the mess that necessitated this visit in the first place. 

“Yucky wucky, you’re so stinky, inky,” she teased, taking on the unenvious task of cleaning my diaper area. As mad as she could get at me, diaper changes were always pleasant, Mommy made them fun, no matter how many she did. She made baby noises, Mommy noises, in exaggerated tones throughout the entirety of the charge. Prior to Amelia using the potty, Mommy was just the same. A real natural, one could not argue.I knew I was really in for it when I got home, but for this moment in time, Mommy made me forget about it, as brief a reprieve as it might be.

The cool wipes moved across my bottom, up the crack, over and over. Across my little peepee, which by this point was very much unusable except to potty, and all over the rest. A large cloud of baby powder soon followed, as did a dollop of rash cream. Soon, Mommy lifted me, sliding another diaper underneath me, taping it up. Mommy then took out a khaki skirt, pulling it up my legs. It matched my purple Gabby’s Dollhiuse shirt, I was impressed.

“All done, Princess,” Mommy looked at me, putting the wipes into the used diaper and taping it up;, “lay there so Mommy can pack all your diaper goodies up.”

Mommy squirted hand sanitizer on her hands, and began rubbing them as she looked at the landscape. She put the wipes container back, the powder and cream back, and then had me get off the table while she put the changing pad away. She slung the brioche bag on her shoulder, taking the used diaper in one hand and my hand in another. As we walked towards a garbage can, another mom came in, babies in tow. She and Mommy made eye contact, each shaking their heads and exchanging a laugh. Mommy tossed my used diaper out, and led me out towards the mall, where Amelia and Auntie Stef were waiting. 

“Looks like you got that solved,” Auntie Stef chuckled. 

“All in a mom’s work, right?” Mommy said lightheartedly. 

“Of course, nice choice too, she’s really rocking that diaper, isn’t she?” Stef asked. 

“You better believe it, you know she loves it, doesn’t she? Doesn’t she?” Mommy teased. I just got red and embarrassed. 

Aunt Stef was right, I was “rocking” my diaper. My skirt was really short, the bottom peaked out, and when I raised my arms the teeniest bit, the diaper stuck out the top. Anyone could see it, anyone within ear shot could notice it. 

“Well, let’s go home, we’ll get Amelia a frosty and us some lunch, and we can take it home and eat it; I’d love to eat in, but we need to get the baby down for her afternoon nap, she’s kind of cranky, if you couldn’t tell,” Mommy said in a mocking tone, to which the two laughed. Amelia gave a cute laugh of her own, but I think it was mostly to humor the adults.

Off we went, Mommy holding my hand and pulling me, Aunt Stef carrying my sister. Two different directions, me pulled towards perpetual and infinite babydom, my sister pushed to higher and higher heights. I was overwhelmed, and so deeply conflicted. As we made it out to Auntie Stef’s Highlander, a dark and extended reality began to settle on me that I would never escape. As I was buckled in my car seat, I began to sob, beginning to process the day that this ear piercing adventure had wrought.

“Oh Courtney, it’s ok, you’re just tired baby,” Mommy tried to console me, handing me a bottle, “drink some milkies, and enjoy the ride; Mommy will carry you in at home if you fall asleep, you’ve had a long day Princess.”

I took the bottle and began to suckle down the bitter pill my life had swallowed. It wasn’t always this way, but it looked like it was going to be moving forward. As I began to doze and take it in, I thought about it all, and how I had no one else but myself to blame.  

[diaprbayb]

[Babytom948]

Not  much setup,is this a one shot?

[BabyGirlSJ]

There’s more coming 

[Babypants]

19 hours ago, BabyGirlSJ said:

There’s more coming

I like stories that begin in the middle, inviting the reader to imagine who the characters are, and how the situation that we see at the opening came about.  I'll follow this one with interest.

[littlebopeeper]

I just have to ask.  Does anyone know how much weight one of these infant changing tables will hold?  I have visions of Courtney climbing aboard, and the whole thing collapsing and dumping her on the floor!   Talk about a blow out!

[Emmi]

18 hours ago, littlebopeeper said:

I just have to ask.  Does anyone know how much weight one of these infant changing tables will hold?  I have visions of Courtney climbing aboard, and the whole thing collapsing and dumping her on the floor!   Talk about a blow out!

 

According to the koalakare website which seems to be one of the more popular brands that I've noticed. At least where I live and the places I've visited. 

 

This Baby Changing Station has been tested to support 200 lbs with minimal deflection.

 

Please note: This product is designed for infants only, up to 3.5 years of age and weighing less than 50 lbs.

[littlebopeeper]

Thanks!  Not an engineer, so had to look up minimal deflection.  It looks like the table is not the hazard, but the wall mounting.  What do you wanna bet that a mother who put a three year old weighing 52 pounds on the table, only to have it collapse and dump the toddler on the floor, would soon discover that she doesn't have a legal leg to stand on?

Seem to recall that adult changing tables have been installed in some airports.  Read it here, as I recall, but never seen it elsewhere. 

[diaprbayb]

On 4/8/2024 at 6:29 AM, BabyGirlSJ said:

Mommy pulled me towards a back corner, where there were several changing tables, built in to the counters, each separated into different changing areas by a dividing wall, but set up in a way that multiple changes could take place simultaneously. As we approached, I saw another mom starting a similar job with her own toddler, who sounded about as thrilled as I was to have their diaper changed. I was still a crying, teary mess, so I had no room to talk. 

Mommy walked to the table next to the occupied one, setting down her brioche diaper backpack on a space behind the changing table. She moved my hand from her vice grip to around a metal rod by the structure, leaving me to stand awkwardly while she took everything out. A new diaper, a travel case of wipes, a changing pad, new clothes, nothing was spared; she even took out hand sanitizer for herself for after the change was done. Like I said, very prepared. As I stood there awkwardly, alternating my glances between Mommy’s pretty brioche Petunia Pickle Bottom bag and the environment around us. 

As I glanced, the other mom looked over, giving us both a half smile, before doing a bit of a double take at me. At 5’6”, I wasn’t the typical baby having my diaper changed.Soon, I felt Mommy pushing me towards the table, her immense strength overpowering me, “Up,” was all she said. As I moved my poopy bottom towards salvation, I noticed Mommy making a smile to the other mom who was looking at us. 

“Poopy diapers, doesn’t matter how big the baby, always gonna be poopy diapers, am I right? Just when I thought I had both of my girls out of diapers, this one decided her journey in them didn’t want to be over, and here we are!” Mommy said in a feigned exasperation of catharsis.

“Oh I can relate to that!” I heard the other mom say, “when her brother was born,” she began telling Mommy, motioning to the toddler she was changing, “she decided to cancel her own potty training, and I’ve got two loads of poopy diapers to change now! Gotta love motherhood!”

“Have lots of babies, they said…” Mommy began and laughed, to which the other mom laughed too. 

She pulled back my sodden leggings and began the dirty work. As she pulled them down my dirty legs, she pulled out a plastic bag, rolling the leggings into the bag, tying it shut, and walking over, past the other relatable mom. Mommy quickly tossed it away, there was no reusing of it, not in any known universe.

“Looks like a code brown and a half,” I heard the other mom say.

“Like I said, just another day,” Mommy laughed, coming back to find me, “it’s why they sell clothes right?”

As Mommy began pulling out wipes, the other mom must have finished, I heard her say goodbye, and Mommy happily bid her adieu. I always found mommies/moms to be such strange individuals. They were the only people I knew who could exchange pleasantries while being wrist deep in poopy. I guess it was a labor of love or something sappy. 

“Phew, phewwie, you stink stinkyyy,” Mommy teased somewhat melancholy; I think she’d rather be doing anything but this right now, especially given her current state of furor. Before taking on the diaper, she ran a series of wipes up and down my legs, cleaning off the blowout aftermath, putting the wipes in another plastic bag she’d popped out. Soon after, she opened the diaper, revealing the mess that necessitated this visit in the first place. 

“Yucky wucky, you’re so stinky, inky,” she teased, taking on the unenvious task of cleaning my diaper area. As mad as she could get at me, diaper changes were always pleasant, Mommy made them fun, no matter how many she did. She made baby noises, Mommy noises, in exaggerated tones throughout the entirety of the charge. Prior to Amelia using the potty, Mommy was just the same. A real natural, one could not argue.I knew I was really in for it when I got home, but for this moment in time, Mommy made me forget about it, as brief a reprieve as it might be.

The cool wipes moved across my bottom, up the crack, over and over. Across my little peepee, which by this point was very much unusable except to potty, and all over the rest. A large cloud of baby powder soon followed, as did a dollop of rash cream. Soon, Mommy lifted me, sliding another diaper underneath me, taping it up. Mommy then took out a khaki skirt, pulling it up my legs. It matched my purple Gabby’s Dollhiuse shirt, I was impressed.

“All done, Princess,” Mommy looked at me, putting the wipes into the used diaper and taping it up;, “lay there so Mommy can pack all your diaper goodies up.”

Mommy squirted hand sanitizer on her hands, and began rubbing them as she looked at the landscape. She put the wipes container back, the powder and cream back, and then had me get off the table while she put the changing pad away. She slung the brioche bag on her shoulder, taking the used diaper in one hand and my hand in another. As we walked towards a garbage can, another mom came in, babies in tow. She and Mommy made eye contact, each shaking their heads and exchanging a laugh. Mommy tossed my used diaper out, and led me out towards the mall, where Amelia and Auntie Stef were waiting. 

“Looks like you got that solved,” Auntie Stef chuckled. 

“All in a mom’s work, right?” Mommy said lightheartedly. 

“Of course, nice choice too, she’s really rocking that diaper, isn’t she?” Stef asked. 

“You better believe it, you know she loves it, doesn’t she? Doesn’t she?” Mommy teased. I just got red and embarrassed. 

Aunt Stef was right, I was “rocking” my diaper. My skirt was really short, the bottom peaked out, and when I raised my arms the teeniest bit, the diaper stuck out the top. Anyone could see it, anyone within ear shot could notice it. 

“Well, let’s go home, we’ll get Amelia a frosty and us some lunch, and we can take it home and eat it; I’d love to eat in, but we need to get the baby down for her afternoon nap, she’s kind of cranky, if you couldn’t tell,” Mommy said in a mocking tone, to which the two laughed. Amelia gave a cute laugh of her own, but I think it was mostly to humor the adults.

Off we went, Mommy holding my hand and pulling me, Aunt Stef carrying my sister. Two different directions, me pulled towards perpetual and infinite babydom, my sister pushed to higher and higher heights. I was overwhelmed, and so deeply conflicted. As we made it out to Auntie Stef’s Highlander, a dark and extended reality began to settle on me that I would never escape.

These were not pull down. These were built-in the wall

[BabyGirlSJ]

16 hours ago, diaprbayb said:

These were not pull down. These were built-in the wall

That was my vision, or something similar. Thanks!

[BabyGirlSJ]

II.

“If you’ve proven anything today, it’s that you obviously didn’t get enough sleep last night, and are definitely in need of a nap, hmmm, wouldn’t you say?”

I blushed and nodded. My display at the mall earlier probably made this a worthwhile endeavor. I’d already seen my previously clean diaper ripped off once we made it back to the house, and my bottom was reddened much darker than the crimson that my face was currently showing, if that were even at all possible. I was lucky that there weren’t more heinous fates awaiting me later on, as was typically done after one of my previous tantrums. You’d think I’d learn my lesson, right? Well, I seemingly never did. I was a brat to the end.

“Good girl, I knew you’d see it my way, now let’s go back to your nursery, shall we?”

Of course I was, what else was I going to do, spin my wheels in another tantrum-filled afternoon that would likely earn me quadruple whatever the maximum this punishment was already likely to be? No. I’d done that before, and it never worked out well. In fact, it probably served to hasten my regression to this fate even further. I probably could have made it into something more palatable, and less full of charged retribution if I wanted, but nope, I always seemingly went this route. I could adjust my attitude for a few days, and then it was back to square one. Mommy keeps telling me that this is all going to end one day, whatever that means. I think it’s probably whatever her friend Beth did with her baby girl, Jaclyn. At least that’s what I think I understand when I hear their adult conversations. I don’t know. All I did know was that at this point, was, I was likely going to be in this predicament for the foreseeable future, and as of right now, I was due for my afternoon nap.

After my hairbrush spanking bonanza which I will not bore you with the embarrassing details,  Mommy took me by her hand from her bedroom and down the hall next to my sister’s “big girl” room to my nursery, which previously was hers. It was a warm day, and Mommy had me back in my usual home attire on these warmer days, which was a Gabby’s Dollhouse t-shirt and a thick diaper on. She said it was cute and made it so that she could tell when I made pee-pees and poopies in my little girl panties, which of course, were just my diapers. I guess I was cute though, because my Auntie had told me so before I was marched upstairs for my punishment earlier. I may be a baby girl in the eyes of everyone, but at least I’m cute; that’s got to count for something right?

Finally, Mommy pulled down the crib side, and helped push my poofy bottom up onto the crib, kissing me on the forehead and lifting up the crib door, locking it into place.

“Have a good night Princess, Mommy knows that you can’t always be peppy after such a late night, get some sleep sweetie, and we’ll have lots of playtime later, mmm kay?”

I smiled, and began to suck on my pacifier, thinking like I did every time I was laid down for a nap on how I got here. As I seemingly regressed, these details get hazier and hazier, so it’s probably best that I go over the story one more time, just so someone can understand how and why I got to be here in the first place. It wasn’t always like this, in fact, it probably should have never even come to this, but it did, and well, it makes for an interesting story.

You see, back before I became Mommy’s darling baby girl, I was a bit of a transient, looking for my place in the universe. I was in my early 20s, nearly graduated from college, and on the prowl for a new start of…something. I’d hit a bit of a rut in my life. I was about a year or so away from graduation, but there was never any clarity on my end on whether or not this is where I wanted to be. “Here” was a non-descript California suburb in the north, which much like me, was also unsure as to what it wanted to be. I  had found myself living with a series of strange roommates. What had originally been a compromise for my own financial state of being had quickly morphed into a series of misadventure that found my apartment’s living area to be a strange collection of its own sort of quirkiness, filled with passerby associates of my roommates, a group I had connected with on Craigslist. Seems real great, right? Maybe compared to sitting in a crib in a poopy diaper, right? Maybe, maybe not.

Seeking a reprieve from my life’s insanities had brought me back to Craigslist again, a medium filled with mostly scammers, but sometimes a deal or two. Just had to know how to look, and something always seemed to present itself. I wanted to find something, I really did. I was desperate. The last straw had come recently when one of the many cycling roommates I had in my house vomited all over my doorknob when I was out at work, making the situation worse by opening the door and slovenly passing out, pushing more of the mess all over the carpet in my room. I decided to take a short little “me” vacation to get out of it, clear my head, and all of that.

On top of the depravity of it all, I just wanted a place and a space of my own, even if it were a broom closet under the stairs of someplace. I had areas of myself and my life that I’d wanted to explore, but I never felt like I had a great enough space to do it. From a young age, I had a desire to wear diapers, but being an only child in a fairly tiger-parent household, I’d never really gotten a chance to explore that. Weird right? Probably, but it fit me as snug as the diapers Mommy keeps on my bottom now. It wasn’t always that simple though; the time I feigned a bedwetting problem, I wound up in a shrink’s office because I must have had emotional problems. There was always a search for a reason, but I never admitted it to myself or my parents. Who knows what they’d have done? Maybe I’d have been where I’m at now, just at home? I don’t know.

In any sense, despite the strangeness of it all, my (biological and now-unofficial) parents seem to be happy with Mommy’s arrangement, I think she framed it well. Sometimes they visited now, but usually it was for some dissociative purpose, rather than anything out of caring or love, which they always seemed immune to before. It was never a particularly great affair, it usually led to me crying and with a poopy diaper, but that’s neither here nor there. My pants almost were always as shitty as their parenting, evens out right? It’s not like life with Mommy was particularly amazing, but I guess I was out livin’ the dream. My (biological and now-unofficial) parents were creatures of the suburbs, and there’s no way that they could handle their previously-adult child now becoming a panty-pooping toddler, how would they ever explain it away at the country club? All because I wanted privacy, I wound up with none. Funny how life goes.

I eventually decided that I’d go out and take a week vacation, head to my own isolation of my own hotel room, and that would be that. I’d keep tabs on potential rentals, with my (unrealistic, I admit) hope being that I would be in a new place by the end of said week. My previous experiences gave me the unslightest clue that it would happen, but I kept up the delusional hope anyway. I even set up my own email for rentals, under the paranoid guise that I was going to lose out on any potential offer due to it being inadvertentluy sent to the SPAM folder of my email. Adulting was a trip, right? For someone as organized as I was at the time, my own version of OCD was moving off the charts, the paranoia climing high. Looking back on it, knowing how and where I ended up, I probably may have been better off obtaining a drug or alcohol habit, at least that was socially acceptable, right?

Okay, I’ll admit, my “vacation” was pretty lame. It basically consisted of me holding my own court for myself in a dilapidated roadside hotel somewhere near the Redwood Forest. I guess it’s location wasn’t terrible, but the rest of it was. It almost made me long for the confines of my own chaotic home at times. The one upside, though, was that it had WiFi, and with nothing else to do, it gave me time to explore the rentals around my area more. I found a few, even had a few leads, but then, I’d hear nothing, or it’d be a “I’m a lost Hyrulian Prince with a vault full of gold under the Princess’ castle, if you pay me a $700000 deposit up front, plus your social security for any ID purposes, I can have you in this afternoon,” which obviously wasn’t going to pass the reality test. As with most things I’d been doing at that point, I usually could go “gung-ho” on something for awhile, and after a few missed attempts, I fell into a fairly dark spot, convinced it was a complete failure. I don’t know, I guess I have shortcomings. Blame my helicopter parents, blame my environment, or you know, maybe it was just me. Finally, towards the end of my “vacation”, I finally hit paydirt. It was a room in a house in a nicer area of the next town up, which I knew well, and best of all, it had an en suite bathroom, and its own entrance to the building. There weren’t any pictures of the room, just of the exterior of the house and the backyard. It looked nice enough, well, it looked like a nice house on the nice side of town, which it was. I didn’t see much else though.

While I was initially convinced from the overall lack of pictures that it was more than likely a hoax, I figured I’d cast my pole a bit and see if I could actually get a bite. I mean, looking back on it, it kind of was a hoax, just not the kind I had in mind at the time, and more of a “you as an adult is kind of a hoax” sort of deal, but again, this wasn’t anything I had planned during this point in my life, or ever actually. It just kind of happened, as I’m telling you now. Anyway, I sent out an email, asking if it was still available, etc., etc., I tried to explain that I was a responsible college student towards the end of my degree program, etc., etc., and how I’d be a good fit for the rental, etc., etc. What else could I possibly do or say? Maybe I wasn’t the most responsible? I did end back up as an overgrown baby after all, but you know, at the time, I really did believe myself to be at least somewhat responsible. I mean, I guess I was responsible for becoming that overgrown baby, so there was responsibility, right? I dunno, I digress, and am probably looking for a cheap laugh, so maybe laugh if you want. So I sent it and I waited.

I sat and stared at the screen for the next hour after I sent the initial email, trying to manifest some response back. I don’t know what I expected, realistically. Was I looking for a “Congrats! You’re Approved!” message? Was I looking for a “Sorry! You suck!” message? I don’t know, and I don’t know that I’ll ever know. The further the time drifts away from that time for me, the more and more I actually forget. What I can tell you, though, is that I was quite nervous about the response that I’d get. I really wanted a place like this, it really sounded like a dream. After silently skulking around the confines of my dimmed room, I decided I’d just go out and walk, and maybe my results would be different when I came back. I went out and walked for a few hours, even explored the forest around there, took some cool nature-y photos, and then came back. I think I had a tinge of optimism the entire time that I was going to come back and miraculously find something. I came back, and….nothing. Deeply disheartened, I sat and stared at the ceiling. I never thought long-term, and I ultimately convinced myself that my short-term circumstances were going to be my long-term future.

I got saddened, and after watching a marathon of Adult Swim that night, I pulled an XL girls Goodnite out of my bag, put it on,  checked my email again and fell asleep. I didn’t have a bedwetting problem, but it was a little time like this when I figured I could be free of intrusions that I could at least feel comfy and fall asleep, even in my presently-downtrodden state.  I dreamt that night of a fun-filled new space where I could wear diapers and do things in the privacy of my ideal space, like draw and paint. I just wanted peace, I wanted isolation, and mostly, I wanted privacy. I never thought it’d actually happen though, and really, if you kind of think about it, it never did, as seen from my present circumstances. That said, none of that had happened yet, and I was still living in an idealized world with any perilous pitfalls completely out-of-reach. The next day, my life inadvertently was changed forever. I shot out of my bed real quick, and went to my laptop on the counter. I was too broke for a cellphone at the time, and figured I’d get one eventually anyway (how wrong that turned out to be), so this was the next best thing. I opened up my email, and there was a response! The response was very thoughtful, and almost too authentic to be any sort of spammer, so I was immediately hit with a hint of relief.

The response was nice enough, if not direct. It said that the place was indeed, still available, and that my response sounded nice enough. Apparently,  her name was Taylor, and her husband was arrested in some overseas insider trading fiasco, and had been sentenced to nearly five decades in prison wherever he was at, which led to a bit of a money shortfall, and the need to fill this room up with a renter. Apparently, she had a toddler daughter at the time that she was quite protective of, which was causing the whole protective layer (ironic right?) to be added to this whole potential arrangement. Because of this, she wasn’t looking for just anyone, and my response had apparently caught her eye. She seemed that she was paranoid that there might be people associated with this insider trading fiasco trying to get into the house, and may disguise themselves as renters or something in order to harm her and her daughter. I don’t know, it sounded asinine, the more I read it. Finally reaching the end, and after convincing myself that this seemed like too much trouble, the hook was in plain sight. She told me that if I was, indeed interested, that we could meet at a local park in town, and if that worked out, she would take me and show me the place.

I was hooked, I’ll admit, and without giving it a second thought, I accepted her offer and made a plan to cut my vacation short and head for the meetup the next day. II decided I’d head out of where I was at, taking this as the excuse I needed to move out of my dilapidated week-long rental and take a step forward out into a new world. I immediately loaded up my car and headed south back towards my current abode, and possibly soon to be future one as well. Indeed, this may have been the break I was looking for. I made it back home that afternoon, and immediately went about streamlining my room. On the drive down, my impulsiveness took hold and I convinced myself that this was the one life raft that I was likely to find, and that indeed, as strange as the circumstances were, I might as well roll the dice. Even if the woman seemed a little crazy, I thought, I might as well just get out of where I’m at. Arriving back at the house only reinforced those beliefs. I was met with a parade of hash pipes, empty Cheeto’s bags, and an overall decaying stench of un-bagged groceries that had taken rot. Yep, there couldn’t be anything worse than this. This situation absolutely sucked. There was only one way out, I’d convinced myself, and it rested with my new connection Taylor to the north.

The next day came, and I took the drive north. It was about a half hour away, and owing to the nervousness that had overtaken me, I got up there a lot earlier than I should have. Probably at least an hour before I had done it. It was a nice day though, so I found a bench and sat, taking in the environment going on around there at the time. There were kids playing, bird singing, and like I said, it was beautiful outside. I felt like a Disney Princess with all of it, again, maybe an unwitting foreshadow to what things would wind up as. The day was awesome out though, completely awesome out. After waiting there for an hour, I got a little bored, and had convinced myself that no one was going to come. Taylor had told me in her email that she’d be coming in a Honda Pilot, and that she’d be carrying a beige diaper bag. Made her identifiable, I guess, even though beige was the rage this day; it seemed like every mom in the park had a beige diaper bag of some sort. Must be popular, I thought. As though she could read my mind, I looked up and saw a figure walking towards me. Tall and with raven hair and aviator sunglasses, with a stern look on her face, a baby on her hip, and carrying, you guessed it, a beige diaper bag, I guessed this was Taylor. As she got closer, I noticed the stern look start to become more warm, and soon it was a bit of a smile. Taylor was tall, much taller than my 5’6’ stature, I guessed she stood about 6’1 or so. Must have been an athlete at one time in college, I thought. As she got closer, she began to say something like….

…”Wake up Princess! It’s time to get up from your nap!” a sing-song voice interrupted my thoughts. Story time will have to stop for awhile, I’m back to reality now, a feeling confirmed by an all-too-familiar feeling of two fingers going in the leghole of my diaper, which, if you likely could guess, was wet and a little poopy.

“Oooo, yucky wucky, babygirl is so stinky inky,” I heard Mommy’s tell tale voice as she pulled the finger out of my leghole, recoiling a bit in disgust. I can’t blame her, I guess I would have done something similar if my finger went in poopy too. Mommy let out a feigned sigh, muttering something like “well, we’ll have to get you clean now, let’s change that stinky inky didee, shall we?”

Soon, the crib door went down, and I was moved over to the changing table. As Mommy got out the supplies and began to make quick work of my dirty diaper, it looked like I won’t be able to finish telling you my whole story. Oh well, Gabby’s Dollhouse is on downstairs, and my diaper has to be changed. I’ll have to tell you the rest later. I hope you don’t get too upset. I’ll be back to tell you soon, but hey! Gabbys Dollhouse is on, and I can’t miss it!

Life’s priorities, right?