Flash Fiction: In It Now (Patreon)

“How old?” One of the daycare workers asks another.  

“One?  Maaaaaaybe two…?” the other says.  “Like about to turn two? Maybe?”

The first makes eye contact with you, and puts on a syrupy sweet smile meant for a toddler.  “Sweetie, do you know how old you are?”  As if to illustrate, they hold up their fingers.  “Are you this many? Or this many?”

You swallow and tell them your age. Your real age.  They turn back to each other.  “Okay, so much for that.”

They don’t believe you. In a way, you don’t blame them.  You’re wearing your cutest, most babyish, most over the top childish adult baby outfit that you own.  You wanted to feel cute today.

“Did Mom or Dad leave a diaper bag?” The second one confers with their co-worker.

The first daycare worker shakes their head. “Nope. Just signed them in and dropped them off.  Potty trained?”

This time they don’t even check with you, directly.  “Does that look like a pull-up to you?”  You’re very obviously diapered. Anyone can see that.  The second daycare worker takes a closer look at your diaper and squints.  “What brand is that anyway? K-Mart? Target?”

They’re not as weirded out by the ABDL diaper as you thought they’d be.

“Potty training? Maybe?” The first daycare worker is grasping at straws and they know it.

The second smirks and sniffs. They know it too. “Definitely not.”

You’re poopy.  You’re soaked.  You were like that before you got here; at least an hour by your own reckoning.  You were treating yourself to some little space time, when the smell of your own mess and concerns of getting a rash finally got you.  The last thing you remember was toddling to your own bathroom to strip down and take a shower.

Next you knew, this was happening.  

“Okay,” the first finally relents. “The one-year-old room it is.”  They pick you up. Impossible!  “Come on, little one. Let’s get you changed and then you can start playing with your new classmates.”

You’re about to find your voice, about to break through embarrassment and bewilderment before it’s too late and this stranger accidentally changes your diaper for you!

You cross the threshold into a giant nursery with them and someone else finds their voice first.  “STOP! I’M NOT REALLY A BABY!” A woman in a sailor outfit cries out. “THIS IS A MISTAKE!”

Her protests are cut off by another daycare worker, a third, shoving a bottle full of milk into her mouth.  “Of course you’re not a baby,” the adult…the real adult…gushes.  “You’re not a baby! You’re a big strong one-year old! You’re a little sailor girl!”

“NO!” A man in shortalls cries from the corner, his body facing away like he’s been put in time out. “THAT’S NOT WHAT WE MEAN! THESE AREN’T OUR NORMAL CLOTHES! THEY’RE JUST COSTUMES! WE WEAR THEM! FOR FUN!”

Your adult lays you on the changing table and retorts, “Oh sure. That makes sense. What grown adult would put on diapers and baby clothes for fun? Who would wet and poop their pants on purpose?”

Both of the other babies go silent, ashamed and embarrassed.  “It’s…complicated…” the girl mumbles around her bottle.  The wetness indicator on her diaper is already less than pristine.

 The daycare worker attending you shakes her head and clicks her tongue while readying you for a change.  “One-year-olds” she says to herself. “Such imaginations!” She favors you with a wink.  “I hope you don’t start telling fibs and saying such silly things.”  She opens up your diaper for you.

“But if you do,” the third daycare worker calls out. “That’s okay too.  We’ll fix you. We always do.”