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I honestly forgot about writing it for a while, and now that the first day is complete, I can start getting into the juicier punishments and exploring some of the predicaments of the other boys in the house. I don't think this chapter isn't as intense as the first part, but I'll make up for that in the next bit. ", "description_bbcode_parsed": "I finally completed the next chapter of The Bunny Scouts.  I honestly forgot about writing it for a while, and now that the first day is complete, I can start getting into the juicier punishments and exploring some of the predicaments of the other boys in the house.  I don't think this chapter isn't as intense as the first part, but I'll make up for that in the next bit.  ", "writing": "Jill Harold Lamaar\n\nThe Bunny Scouts: Part 2\n\nChapter 1\n\nAfter my parents officially signed me over to the Bunny Scouts, all the fight I had left in me fizzled out. Mom and Dad continued to sign more papers, but their voices faded away as I hung motionless in the bouncer harness. The discomfort from the seat riding up in my groin suddenly didn’t seem as bad anymore, but it pressed my freshly-wet diaper up against me as a reminder that I did, in fact, just have an accident. \n\nWhat do I do now? There’s no way I’m just going to give in and accept this, but all my other options are quickly disappearing. It’s not going to be fun, and I hate to say it, but I think I need to play along for now. I honestly have no idea where I am or where I would go if I could get free, and would anyone actually help me? Mom and Dad have bullshit, but legal documentation putting me here, and I doubt anyone would believe this story coming from an upstanding citizen, much less from me. It’s looking like I’m going to have to make the best of this turd sandwich for now and focus on maybe getting out sooner from good behavior, and most importantly, keeping control over my bodily functions. \n\nCaroline and my parents had finished conducting their business at the table and were all making their way back towards me. On one hand, I was quite ready to get out of this bouncer, on the other, I was scared about what the next stop on this roller coaster of doom would reveal.\n\n“Ok, Boo Boo, the grown-ups have finished talking and it’s time to go see your new room.” Caroline said, pushing the waxed wood board out from under me. “We’re going to let you down now, so don’t start any problems, please.” \n\nI hadn’t planned to. Getting out of this contraption was just a reverse of getting in, beginning with my hands being freed from the sewn-in rabbit mittens, and ending with a boost to lift me out of the bouncer and back to the floor. I regained my footing, Mom and Dad each grabbed one of my hands like earlier, and they waited for Caroline to lead the way before escorting me behind her.\n\n“We’ll put Boo Boo in one of our open rooms downstairs since it doesn’t look like he is walking well enough for stairs just yet. And it’s getting close to bedtime now, so you can see the other Bunnies and caretakers tomorrow morning.”\n\nWhat does she mean, bedtime? It’s only—well, I actually don’t know what time it is on account of there being no clocks in sight, but it couldn’t be any later than 6 o’clock. I haven’t gone to bed earlier than 9 p.m. since I was in second grade, how would they expect me to get to sleep this early? As if she had sensed my confusion, Caroline continued,\n\n“All little Bunnies are in bed by seven o’clock, so we still have some time to check out the room before we need to put him down for ni-ni time.”\n\nI was surprised to hear Mom chime in with a question that mirrored mine,\n\n“Seven? How long is bedtime normally?”\n\n“It’s 7 p.m. to 6 a.m. every day.” She answered. “Baby Bunnies need plenty of sleep and time alone to think about why they’re here. Also, at 11 hours in their cribs, they’re guaranteed to have wet their nighttime diapers. Eventually, whether the Bunnies like it or not, their brains will start associating the bed with a place to go potty, helping them along on their journey back to bedwetting.”\n\nBedwetting.\n\nI was already well aware that these people will be trying to take my potty training away, but the thought of being regressed to a bedwetter hadn’t occurred to me, and thinking about that specific kind of incontinence hit much harder. \n\nI barely remember it now, and this is the first time I’ve admitted it to anyone, but I used to wet my bed a few times a week when I was a really little kid. What I do remember is the time we stayed overnight at a cousins house for a big family get-together, I absolutely refused to consider a wearing a pullup around them, and I soaked the couch. I haven’t even thought of that night in over 10 years, but the sensation of wet sheets, “bedtime underwear”, and the smell of pee still remain etched in my memory. How am I supposed to keep a girlfriend or even get laid if I need to wear a diaper to bed again? What do I do if that’s happening during the day?\n\n“And here is Boo Boo’s new bedroom.”\n\nThose words snapped me out of my flashback just in time to see the door swing open. I knew exactly what I was going to see, but I was still surprised. Foam tiles, toys, baby animal wallpaper, and a gigantic crib all vomited the full spectrum of vibrant colors right into my eyes as I was nudged forward into the room. Upon the first step in, my nose was equally attacked by an invisible cloud of baby powder that didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere in particular.\n\n“Wow, this is a blast to the past.” Dad said. “We used to have these exact same foam mats in his nursery.”\n\n“Since Boo Boo isn’t going to be spending much time on his feet here, it’s important to make sure he’s comfortable on the floor. Of course, his butt has plenty of padding, but we want to keep his knees safe too while he’s crawling around.”\n\n“And speaking of crawling,” Mom began, leaning down beside me, “This is a perfect time for you start practicing. Mommy and Daddy are going to let go of your hands now, and then I want you to crawl over to the bin there and pick out a toy to play with.”\n\nBefore I could react, Caroline interjected with, “Are you sure Boo Boo knows what crawling is just yet, or does he need to be shown how to do it?”\n\n“Why don’t we leave it up to him?” Dad replied, shifting his focus to me. “Can you show us how a baby crawls, Kiddo, or do we need to help you?”\n\nWhy? Why couldn’t this day just end already? Was everything else that had been done to me so far not enough? There’s only so much humiliation a person can suffer in a single day, and they must want me to win a world record. I looked down at the colorful tiles on the floor as my hands were released, and I knew this was another trap. If I crawl properly, I’m obediently degrading myself, but if I don’t do what they expect—then, I don’t want to think about what other ideas they have. \n\nI could feel the force of three pairs of eyes pushing me down towards the floor, and I succumbed to the weight. I lowered myself to an awkward kneeling position, my legs spread wide from the diaper’s thickness, before leaning forward onto my hands. The change in my posture complicated things further as the straps on the overalls tightened and pulled the diaper deeper into my crotch, splaying my legs to what felt like a 90 degree angle. \n\n“That’s it, Boo Boo! Great job! Now, one hand in front of the other.” Mom cheered with all of the encouragement a mother would give a real baby.\n\nWe’ve all had times where someone is giving us instructions on something we already know how to do. Most of the time, it’s when we’re driving, playing a competitive game, or something like that, but it’s still annoying as all hell. Imagine that times ten, and I still don’t think it accurately describes how I felt as I scooted towards the toy bin on the other side of the room. The bulk between my legs combined with the squishy foam mats slowed my progress and I could only move forward about six inches at a time. \n\nI should have known, but the act of crawling like a baby on the floor wasn’t the only source of embarrassment to endure. Every time I moved my legs, or rather anything below my chest, a symphony of plastic crinkles reverberated from my butt to alert anyone within a mile of my diapered status.\n\n“Aw, look at his little diaper butt swinging back and forth.” Dad said with an obnoxious baby talk voice. “Too bad I forgot my phone in the car, I would have loved a video of that.”\n\nMy face heat up around the pacifier as I continued my infantile task. There was no way to keep crawling without giving everyone a show, but at the very least, I didn’t have to look at them for a minute. \n\n“You don’t have to worry about taking videos or pictures yourself, and besides, it will be much cuter to see him crawl around when he’s all wet and poopy.” Replied Caroline, “But we have plenty of cameras here, so when you come back for Boo Boo, you’ll get a digital baby book with over one hundred pictures of our precious moments, such as baths, diaper changes, and feedings.”\n\n“On the way in, I got a video of Boo Boo pooping his diaper in his car seat.” Mom piled on, “All moms love having an archive of that stuff, so when their little boys grow up, they can show all those embarrassing baby pictures to their girlfriends.” \n\nOver one hundred pictures of me dressed like this. Shown to my future girlfriends. I’m not actually dressed as a baby in BFN Colorado right now, my life is over and I’m already in hell. \n\nSomehow, my body mustered more tears to cry, and they pattered over the last couple foam tiles on my journey to the toy bin. Once there, I had no desire to sift through the pile of toys and choose one of the stupid things, so I stuck one hand in, felt a soft toy, and pulled it out. \n\nIt wasn’t a stuffed animal or any kind of soft toy.\n\nI released the nasty thing and watched the loaded, stained diaper plop to the floor in front of me. It was the same kind I was wearing, but it was rolled up, bloated, and obviously full from the brownish tinge across the outside. I reflexively looked down at my hand expecting it to be equally filthy, but I was surprised to see it clean, and then I realized it didn’t smell either. I didn’t understand what kind of sick joke this was, but knew I wouldn’t like the answer.\n\nI stared back at the torturous trio with a look of disgust and then I got it.\n\n“What’s the matter, Boo Boo? You don’t like your new stuffy?” Caroline said with fake concern.\nI quickly shook my head no and my heartbeat spiked as she stepped up to me and delivered the punchline:\n\n“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not real. It’s completely clean, just filled with a gel and some dye, but this will be your little stuffed friend for a while. Dirty diapers are normal for you now. You’re going to be wearing them, your diaper pail here will be full of them, and now you have one to cuddle in your crib. Could you show your parents and your Auntie Caroline how much you appreciate your new toy with a big ‘ol snuggle?”\n\nLooking back to my parents, I kept shaking my head no. I don’t care if it’s technically clean, I’m not hugging what looks like a diaper full of shit. \n\nCaroline turned to them also and continued, “I’m sorry, it looks like he would rather play with the real dirty diaper he made earlier, I’ll be right back.”\n\nWithout another word, she began walking towards the door, and I absolutely believed that she would pull that overloaded diaper out and give it to me. Frantically, I yelled through the pacifier, grabbed the “toy” diaper, and pulled it tight to my chest. It felt squishy and revolting, but that didn’t stop me from squeezing the thing and rocking it back and forth while my cries turned to sobs.\n\nThen she stopped.\n\nShe actually stopped.\n\nFor the moment, I calmed down and kept hugging the fake dirty diaper in an exaggeratedly childish manner.\n\n“See, he’s already learning to make the right decisions. Don’t stop snuggling your diaper, Boo Boo. I’m going to talk to your mom and dad about your new room, and when we’re done, I want you to have a name picked out for it.”\n\nA name? If I were still in a world where everyone wasn’t crazy, I could think of a hundred names in a second, and my favorite would be Shitfuckenstein’s Monster. But I’m here in Loony Land where people are seriously asked to name an artificial messy diaper like it’s a beloved toy. Even ignoring names that would definitely get me punished, my smart-ass spirit was too strong and I struggled to think of anything safe. Dirty Dan? Mr. Brown?\n\nMom, Dad, and Caroline were standing by a tall bookshelf and discussing the items on it, and I took a minute to further inspect the fake dirty diaper. I tried to undo the tapes to confirm that it wasn’t real, but they were glued down, holding the diaper shut as if it was ready to be thrown away. It smelled the same as a fresh diaper, but it looked exactly the same as the one I was wearing in the car, and mushed around in my hands in a way that made my stomach turn.\n\nThe next second, we were all distracted by a loud thud from the floor above us, followed by a rapid series of smacks and high-pitched howls.\n\n“Sounds like someone has been naughty.” Mom said in a silly tone, and I was the only person in the room who didn’t think it was funny. \n\nJust above, there was a boy like me getting punished for something, and hearing his cries made me feel a little better. Not for any sadistic reasons, but because I suddenly didn’t feel so alone out here. The commotion ended as quickly as it began, and my parents wrapped up their conversation with Caroline before returning to me. \n\n“Did you think of a good name for your diaper buddy?” Mom asked, unfastening the strap holding the pacifier in my mouth, “Nothing bad now, just tell us what name you picked out for your new friend.”\n\nI had been so distracted by listening to that other boy get spanked, that I forgot about picking a name. The pacifier was taken out of my mouth and I anxiously held the diaper tighter, feeling it mush around again as I searched my brain for a name.\n\n“Ummm,” I hesitated before squeaking out the first thing that came to mind, “Mush, Mush?”\n\n“Awww, what a cute wittle name for your stuffy!” Caroline said in her baby talk again, “For these first few weeks, I want you to take good care of Mush Mush. When I can tell that you’ve finally accepted dirty diapers as a part of your new life, we can put away Mush Mush and I’ll give you your stuffed bunny back. For some Bunnies, that can take months, and for others it’s a couple weeks, but you can go at your own pace, Boo Boo.”\n\nI stayed there on my knees and whined slightly as Mom replaced the pacifier and the strap holding it in, and then Caroline continued speaking, \n\n“Well, everything is settled for now. You two can get Boo Boo dressed for bed, if you have anything to talk about, you may, and lights-out is at 7:00. The guest room is right across the hall, and it has its own bathroom so you can freshen up after this long, exciting day.”\n\nExciting is not the word I would use, but I was a little happy to hear that I might get a chance to talk again. Mom and Dad thanked Caroline for being an accessory to kidnapping before she exited the room and shut the door, leaving us alone together.\n\nThe room was silent for a few seconds, before Dad interrupted it with, “Well, we should get a certain kiddo dressed in his jammies. He has another big day coming up tomorrow and needs plenty of rest.”\n\nToday was bad enough, I didn’t even want to think about what tomorrow held.\n\nMom grabbed my hand to help me up, and then walked me over to the crib where Dad was waiting with a bundle of pajamas that he had retrieved from a drawer below the bed. He took the fake diaper away from me and set it down on the mattress, and I could only stand there sucking on my pacifier as my parents began undressing me.\n\nDad started on the shortalls while Mom took care of the shirt, and I tried my best not to think about how I don’t even have autonomy over my clothes anymore. I looked over everything I could see from this wall, which was mostly the giant crib, a mobile of rabbit characters hanging above it, and the bookshelf, which held everything from diapers and lotions to jars of baby food and bottles.\n\n“Oh wow, he needs a change too! Boo Boo already peed his diaper.” \nI was so distracted by the babyish room and everything else that I had briefly forgotten that little occurrence. Like instinct, my first reaction was to come up with an excuse for it, but even if I could manage to get a coherent sentence through the pacifier, Mom had already beaten me to the next words.\n\n“Really? We just changed him about an hour ago.” She said, sliding a finger into my crotch to verify what the cloudy blue line down the front announced. “I guess he did. Are you sure we ever potty trained this kid?”\n\nI choked back a cry as I looked away and pretended like I wasn’t paying attention. Obviously, I knew that I was potty trained, but I couldn’t ignore the worrying truth that not counting what happened in the car, I’ve had two real wet accidents in the last 24 hours. Did they give me something that makes it harder to hold my pee?\n\n“Aw, it’s OK, Boo Boo. We’re just teasing. It’s your job to make your diapers all wet and stinky, and it’s our job to get you clean and dry, so keep up the good work.” Mom continued while rolling out a colorful plastic mat on top of the bed and collecting changing supplies from the nearby shelf. \n\nI was now completely stripped of my clothes except for my socks and the soggy diaper, and without any warning, Dad swooped down, gathered my legs in one arm, and laid me down onto the crib mattress that noisily crinkled under my weight. \n\n“Upsies! Time for changies!” He sang, following Mom’s lead in apparently forgetting that I’m not actually a baby. “That used to be your little diaper change jingle, and just before you potty trained, that’s what you would say to let us know you needed a change. Want to take your pacifier out and give it a try?”\n\nI was surprised that he was suddenly asking me whether or not I wanted to do something, and I paused for a moment before shaking my head no, sightly scared that I was inadvertently selecting some unforeseen consequence.\n\n“That’s quite all right, Kiddo, maybe another time. Here’s your Mush Mush, and you just lie back and let us get you cleaned up.”\n\nI was looking straight up, and in an instant, all of the various sensations became too overwhelming, and I started crying again. The crinkly plastic mat against my bare back. The lukewarm softness of “Mush Mush” against my chest. The rubber pacifier teat in my mouth. The smell of baby powder. The cozy, sleeping rabbits dangling from mobile above the crib. The squishy diaper pushing my legs apart. I know that I’m not a baby, but experiencing all of this at once, it’s impossible to feel like anything but. The next voice I heard was Mom’s. \n\n“Now, Boo Boo, before we get your nighttime diaper on, do you have any more potties or poopies you need to get out? You’re going to be wet by morning, but I don’t want you to be too uncomfortable tonight after such a long day.” \n\nI didn’t even respond to that question, I just looked to the side, put the diaper over my face to hide my embarrassment, and unintentionally gave a few nervous sucks on the pacifier. I didn’t feel like I had any business to do, but I also had zero interest in doing it right now even if I did. \n\n“I think he’s too little to know if he has to go yet.” Dad answered for me. “Let’s try what we used to do when he was really small.”\n\nWith that, he wrapped one arm around both of my legs and pushed my knees back towards my stomach, and with the other hand, he began rubbing my belly. I was confused at first, but it didn’t take long before I felt a familiar pressure building in my tummy. An audible gurgle revealed what I was trying to hide, and I groaned into the dummy as I realized that it was going to happen for the third time today.\n\nAnd continue to happen for the foreseeable future. \n\nDad continued his ritual and Mom held one of my hands, cooing, \n\n“Go on, Boo Boo. Give a [i]big[/i] push for mommy.”\n\nTears spilled from my eyes as I gave up and expelled the last of the milk from the car into my diaper. There wasn’t as much as earlier, but my current posture caused gravity to spread the mess in the opposite direction, and I wriggled in Dad’s grasp as the warmth crept dangerously close to the waistband.\n\n“That’s it, good boy. Get all those yucky poopies out for mommy and daddy.”\n\nI didn’t bother fighting it, and a short stream of pee soaked into the front as a series of farts indicated that I was finished pooping myself.\n\n“There there, Boo Boo. Good job.” Mom kept on saying, patting my messy backside. \n\nThis is it. This is my life now. Each pat on my ass spread the mess even more, but they felt like the blows of nails being driven into the coffin of everything that I was looking forward to just yesterday. No more beers, just milk bottles. No more girlfriends, only babysitters. I’ve lost all my games, my only toy is a dirty diaper, and the only attention my dick is going to get is having my own shit wiped off of it. \n\nDad let my legs down and went right for the tapes on my diaper, and the first whiff of my mess sent me bawling.\n\n“Don’t cry, Mr. Stinkypants, the poopy will be gone in a minute.” He said, pushing a baby wipe into my ass crack to begin my first proper diaper change.\n\nThe sensation of the wipe on my private parts did little to settle me down, and I felt no different than a real baby, crying my eyes out while I lay helplessly through a messy diaper change.\n\n“It’s OK, baby boy.” Mom consoled, pumping some lotion into her hand. “It’s just a poopy diaper. You’ve had them before, you’re going to have them again, and a grown-up will always be there to change you. Maybe this will help.”\n\nI flinched when her hands landed on my stomach, and she started rubbing the lotion into my body. The lotion actually did improve the situation, because its soft, floral fragrance fought off the smell of my babyish deed.\n\nWhat was probably a couple minutes felt like an hour, but eventually I had been thoroughly wiped and Dad was dusting me with baby powder. Next, my knees were pushed up again and he slid a clean diaper underneath me, its frilly material tickling my back and legs. Just like earlier, he finished the process by taping it snug around my waist before making sure it was equally secure in my crotch.\n\n“Good as new, Boo Boo. The stinky is all gone, at least for now.” Dad teased, depositing the used diaper into the pail and rubbing sanitizer on his hands. “All that’s left are your jammies.”\n\nMom removed my socks and rotated my feet off of the mattress to prepare them for the pajamas Dad was holding. Out of all of the surprises I had endured today, this one wasn’t. They were baby blue footie pajamas with a poofy white tail, a hood with bunny ears, and they zipped up the back. He guided my feet into the legs of the pajamas and Mom prepared my hands for the sleeves, then I noticed something was off about them.\n\nThe sleeves didn’t have any holes at the end; they were longer than normal and stitched shut after a satin portion that was decorated like a paw. As the top of the pajamas was pulled over my arms and chest, I could feel that the ends of the sleeves also had a thin layer padding sewn into them. I rubbed my hands together within their confines and it was clear that I wouldn’t be able grab or hold anything while dressed in this.\n\n“Don’t worry, there’s nothing your hands need to be doing while you’re in bed.” Mom said, pulling the hood over my head and zipping the pajamas up my back, “If there’s anything you need at night, you can cry and an adult will come to help.”\n\nI heard two snaps get closed at the back of my neck, and I was effectively sealed into these pajamas until someone chooses to take them off of me. Satisfied with their work, Mom and Dad sat on either side of me, and Dad lowered the bunny hood, saying,\n\n“We’re going to take the pacifier out now so we can give you your bedtime bottle, but before that, do you want to say anything or ask about something? Remember that being a potty mouth won’t be tolerated.”\n\nI hadn’t forgotten already, and for the moment, I was just glad to be rid of the pacifier after putting up with it for hours. The strap was unbuckled and Dad pulled the teat from my mouth while I started thinking of what I needed to say. \n\n“So, Kiddo, is there anything you want to talk about before we tuck you in?” Mom asked, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.\n\nThere were so many different things I wanted to talk about that I was having trouble deciding what to ask first. My thoughts about this infantile incarceration were ready to explode out of me, but I temporarily put those aside and chose to try one last Hail Mary attempt at turning things around.\n\n“Is it too late for us to meet in the middle? I’ll wear diapers, I’ll act like a baby, I’ll do whatever, but can’t I do it at home? I don’t want to stay here for six months, and I bet that you’ll be concerned about me, so why don’t we take all this stuff back home and just do it there?”\n\nDesperate times call for desperate measures. \n\n“I’m happy that you’re all excited to be our baby boy at home, but you need to learn how to be a baby first.” Mom said, holding me tighter. “Think of this like a school rather than a punishment. They’re just going to teach you how to be a cute and innocent baby instead of a cranky big kid.”\n\n“Back in the bathroom, with the spanking and the pacifier, is that the kind of lesson I can expect?”\n\nMy pulse quickened as I finished the question, and I was terrified of what the answer might be when Dad responded, \n\n“No, not all. Those were punishments for what you had done, but if you behave and do as you’re told, you will be treated with the same love and care that any toddler receives. The sooner you surrender and accept that you’re a little baby now, the easier all of this will be, and you never know, you might actually enjoy being pampered all day.”\n\n“I don’t want to accept that, this is humiliating.” I countered ineffectively, not caring about how whiny that sounded.\n\n“You only feel embarrassed because you’re still thinking like a big kid, Boo Boo. A big boy feels shame when he soils his underwear because he was expected to make it to the bathroom. But babies don’t feel that shame because nobody expects them to do anything more than fill up their diapers. You don’t need to feel humiliated for crawling around, sucking on a pacifier, or soaking your diapy because, just like any baby, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to be doing right now.”\n\nMom’s words did little to comfort me, and then Dad added,\n\n“Think of it this way. You just pooped your baby diaper while I held you, then I wiped all that stinky off of your butt, and dressed you in your nighttime outfit. If that’s the most embarrassing thing that could have possibly happened, then it already happened. That’s as bad as it gets. And did you live?”\n\nI risked a glance at him and he kept looking at me expecting an answer to his obvious question. I shrugged and replied with a defeated,\n\n“Yeah.”\n\n“There you go. If you could live through that, then the rest of this will be a breeze.” \n\nThat’s actually a good point, or it would be if I didn’t entirely believe that the worst had passed.\n\n“What if something really bad happens and I need to contact you two?”\n\n“We will be in contact, don’t worry.” Mom reassured, “We will check in with you every couple weeks on the phone, and you can always wave to us on the baby monitor. We both can access this camera on our devices any time so we can make sure our baby stays safe.”\n\nShe gestured towards the top of the crib, and sure enough, what I previously thought was just a plushy moon decoration strapped to one of the bars was disguising a camera. I didn’t like the idea of being watched all the time, but it also relaxed me slightly since that should mean nothing too terrible is likely to happen after Mom and Dad leave.\n\n“This is all too much. And when I get home, what happens then? Are you really going to keep me like this?”\n\nDad took over to answer this one, “When you’re back home, nobody is going to force you to be a baby, but potty training will take some time. I can’t tell you how long it’s going to be before you get to wear underwear again, that will be up to you, but you’ll be able to have your big kid clothes, food, and games back.”\n\n“Unless you want to keep being a baby.” Mom interrupted. “Nobody is going to force you to grow up either. If it turns out that you really love getting tucked in at night or fed from your baba, then that’s fine too, and I’ll be there every day to make sure you’re snug and safe in bed.”\n\nTrapped in her embrace, a warm feeling washed over me and I didn’t understand it. It didn’t feel bad, but it was strange and I almost felt comfortable for a moment. This sensation remained as Mom continued,\n\n“And speaking of getting tucked in, it’s about time for you to go ni-ni, Boo Boo. We’re going to be just across the hall, so if you have a nightmare or another messy diaper, you can cry and we’ll come make it better.”\n\nShe kept holding me as Dad got up from the mattress, then Mom started slowly pushing me over towards the pillow side of the crib. I didn’t resist, and this bed was actually incredibly soft, which was good if I was going to be in it for 11 hours a day.\n\nI lay my head on the pillow while Dad passed a blanket from the shelf over to Mom. She unfolded it, revealing a colorful pattern of balloons and blue, satin frills around the entire perimeter, and then she tossed it over me. The blanket was slightly weighted, but as soft as a cloud, and that warm feeling persisted while Mom adjusted it until everything from my shoulders to my feet was properly covered.\n\n“There you are, all tucked in, Boo Boo.” She said, leaning down and planting a kiss on my cheek. “And we can’t forget about your Mush Mush.”\n\nI was trying to wipe her kiss off when Mom pushed the diaper into my hands and then pulled the blanket back up over them. I didn’t fuss, and Dad returned to the edge of the crib holding two bottles.\n\n“Ready for your bedtime bottle?” Dad asked, placing one of the two in a fabric pouch that was attached to one of the crib bars near my head.\n\n“That one is in case you get thirsty overnight, but this other one is for you to drink now.”\n\nI saw the bottle and I recoiled away from it, afraid of it resulting in another diaper blowout sometime in the middle of the night.\n\n“Don’t worry, it’s different from the ones you had earlier.” Mom said, understanding my hesitation. “This one is powdered milk with chamomile, lemon, and melatonin to help you sleep. It’s not going to make your tummy hurt.”\n\nIt took a few seconds, but I calmed down and settled back into the soft pillow as Dad pushed the nipple towards my mouth. Unlike earlier, I was grateful for this drink, probably because all of the crying hasn’t been good for my hydration, and I closed my eyes to receive the bottle.\n\nMy first suck confirmed what Mom had said, and the drink was surprisingly good.\n\n“Isn’t that yummy, Boo Boo?” She said, petting my shoulder through the blanket. “You get to have this every night here. Aren’t you a lucky baby?”\n\nI didn’t feel very lucky, but every new mouthful of milk seemed to wash away some of my stress, and I felt more and more sleepy as I drank. What else was in this bottle? Maybe I can find out tomorrow.\n\n“Aw, look at him go.” I heard Dad whisper. “Boo Boo loves his baba.”\n\nHis voice floated around me, then it was joined by Mom’s, only she had begun to softly sing,\n\n[i]You are my sunshine, my only sunshine \nYou make me happy when skies are gray \nYou'll never know dear, how much I love you \nPlease don't take my sunshine away [/i]\n\nI was warm all over, and it wasn’t from the blanket nor the pajamas. This was a kind of internal warmth that I didn’t recognize, but I didn’t want it to go away. Mom continued to sing and I finished the bottle, my eyelids too heavy to open again as I began to drift off into sleep.\n\n[i]The sooner you surrender and accept that you’re a little baby now, the easier all of this will be.[/i]\n\nDad’s words from earlier echoed in my head, and my defenses fell as the warm comfort carried me away into sleep. This isn’t over, and I’m sure I’ll find a chance to push back against this baby nonsense tomorrow. I just need to take\n\na little\n\nrest. \n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "Jill Harold Lamaar

The Bunny Scouts: Part 2

Chapter 1

After my parents officially signed me over to the Bunny Scouts, all the fight I had left in me fizzled out.  Mom and Dad continued to sign more papers, but their voices faded away as I hung motionless in the bouncer harness.  The discomfort from the seat riding up in my groin suddenly didn’t seem as bad anymore, but it pressed my freshly-wet diaper up against me as a reminder that I did, in fact, just have an accident.  

What do I do now?  There’s no way I’m just going to give in and accept this, but all my other options are quickly disappearing.  It’s not going to be fun, and I hate to say it, but I think I need to play along for now.  I honestly have no idea where I am or where I would go if I could get free, and would anyone actually help me?  Mom and Dad have bullshit, but legal documentation putting me here, and I doubt anyone would believe this story coming from an upstanding citizen, much less from me.  It’s looking like I’m going to have to make the best of this turd sandwich for now and focus on maybe getting out sooner from good behavior, and most importantly, keeping control over my bodily functions.  

Caroline and my parents had finished conducting their business at the table and were all making their way back towards me.  On one hand, I was quite ready to get out of this bouncer, on the other, I was scared about what the next stop on this roller coaster of doom would reveal.

“Ok, Boo Boo, the grown-ups have finished talking and it’s time to go see your new room.” Caroline said, pushing the waxed wood board out from under me.  “We’re going to let you down now, so don’t start any problems, please.”

I hadn’t planned to.  Getting out of this contraption was just a reverse of getting in, beginning with my hands being freed from the sewn-in rabbit mittens, and ending with a boost to lift me out of the bouncer and back to the floor.  I regained my footing, Mom and Dad each grabbed one of my hands like earlier, and they waited for Caroline to lead the way before escorting me behind her.

“We’ll put Boo Boo in one of our open rooms downstairs since it doesn’t look like he is walking well enough for stairs just yet.  And it’s getting close to bedtime now, so you can see the other Bunnies and caretakers tomorrow morning.”

What does she mean, bedtime?  It’s only—well, I actually don’t know what time it is on account of there being no clocks in sight, but it couldn’t be any later than 6 o’clock.  I haven’t gone to bed earlier than 9 p.m. since I was in second grade, how would they expect me to get to sleep this early?  As if she had sensed my confusion, Caroline continued,

“All little Bunnies are in bed by seven o’clock, so we still have some time to check out the room before we need to put him down for ni-ni time.”

I was surprised to hear Mom chime in with a question that mirrored mine,

“Seven?  How long is bedtime normally?”

“It’s 7 p.m. to 6 a.m. every day.” She answered. “Baby Bunnies need plenty of sleep and time alone to think about why they’re here.  Also, at 11 hours in their cribs, they’re guaranteed to have wet their nighttime diapers.  Eventually, whether the Bunnies like it or not, their brains will start associating the bed with a place to go potty, helping them along on their journey back to bedwetting.”

Bedwetting.

I was already well aware that these people will be trying to take my potty training away, but the thought of being regressed to a bedwetter hadn’t occurred to me, and thinking about that specific kind of incontinence hit much harder.  

I barely remember it now, and this is the first time I’ve admitted it to anyone, but I used to wet my bed a few times a week when I was a really little kid.  What I do remember is the time we stayed overnight at a cousins house for a big family get-together, I absolutely refused to consider a wearing a pullup around them, and I soaked the couch.  I haven’t even thought of that night in over 10 years, but the sensation of wet sheets, “bedtime underwear”, and the smell of pee still remain etched in my memory.  How am I supposed to keep a girlfriend or even get laid if I need to wear a diaper to bed again?  What do I do if that’s happening during the day?

“And here is Boo Boo’s new bedroom.”

Those words snapped me out of my flashback just in time to see the door swing open.  I knew exactly what I was going to see, but I was still surprised.  Foam tiles, toys, baby animal wallpaper, and a gigantic crib all vomited the full spectrum of vibrant colors right into my eyes as I was nudged forward into the room.  Upon the first step in, my nose was equally attacked by an invisible cloud of baby powder that didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere in particular.

“Wow, this is a blast to the past.”  Dad said. “We used to have these exact same foam mats in his nursery.”

“Since Boo Boo isn’t going to be spending much time on his feet here, it’s important to make sure he’s comfortable on the floor.  Of course, his butt has plenty of padding, but we want to keep his knees safe too while he’s crawling around.”

“And speaking of crawling,” Mom began, leaning down beside me, “This is a perfect time for you start practicing.  Mommy and Daddy are going to let go of your hands now, and then I want you to crawl over to the bin there and pick out a toy to play with.”

Before I could react, Caroline interjected with, “Are you sure Boo Boo knows what crawling is just yet, or does he need to be shown how to do it?”

“Why don’t we leave it up to him?” Dad replied, shifting his focus to me.  “Can you show us how a baby crawls, Kiddo, or do we need to help you?”

Why?  Why couldn’t this day just end already?  Was everything else that had been done to me so far not enough?  There’s only so much humiliation a person can suffer in a single day, and they must want me to win a world record.  I looked down at the colorful tiles on the floor as my hands were released, and I knew this was another trap.  If I crawl properly, I’m obediently degrading myself, but if I don’t do what they expect—then, I don’t want to think about what other ideas they have.  

I could feel the force of three pairs of eyes pushing me down towards the floor, and I succumbed to the weight.  I lowered myself to an awkward kneeling position, my legs spread wide from the diaper’s thickness, before leaning forward onto my hands.  The change in my posture complicated things further as the straps on the overalls tightened and pulled the diaper deeper into my crotch, splaying my legs to what felt like a 90 degree angle.  

“That’s it, Boo Boo!  Great job!  Now, one hand in front of the other.”  Mom cheered with all of the encouragement a mother would give a real baby.

We’ve all had times where someone is giving us instructions on something we already know how to do.  Most of the time, it’s when we’re driving, playing a competitive game, or something like that, but it’s still annoying as all hell.  Imagine that times ten, and I still don’t think it accurately describes how I felt as I scooted towards the toy bin on the other side of the room.  The bulk between my legs combined with the squishy foam mats slowed my progress and I could only move forward about six inches at a time.  

I should have known, but the act of crawling like a baby on the floor wasn’t the only source of embarrassment to endure.  Every time I moved my legs, or rather anything below my chest, a symphony of plastic crinkles reverberated from my butt to alert anyone within a mile of my diapered status.

“Aw, look at his little diaper butt swinging back and forth.”  Dad said with an obnoxious baby talk voice.  “Too bad I forgot my phone in the car, I would have loved a video of that.”

My face heat up around the pacifier as I continued my infantile task.  There was no way to keep crawling without giving everyone a show, but at the very least, I didn’t have to look at them for a minute.  

“You don’t have to worry about taking videos or pictures yourself, and besides, it will be much cuter to see him crawl around when he’s all wet and poopy.”  Replied Caroline, “But we have plenty of cameras here, so when you come back for Boo Boo, you’ll get a digital baby book with over one hundred pictures of our precious moments, such as baths, diaper changes, and feedings.”

“On the way in, I got a video of Boo Boo pooping his diaper in his car seat.” Mom piled on, “All moms love having an archive of that stuff, so when their little boys grow up, they can show all those embarrassing baby pictures to their girlfriends.”

Over one hundred pictures of me dressed like this.  Shown to my future girlfriends.  I’m not actually dressed as a baby in BFN Colorado right now, my life is over and I’m already in hell.

Somehow, my body mustered more tears to cry, and they pattered over the last couple foam tiles on my journey to the toy bin.  Once there, I had no desire to sift through the pile of toys and choose one of the stupid things, so I stuck one hand in, felt a soft toy, and pulled it out.

It wasn’t a stuffed animal or any kind of soft toy.

I released the nasty thing and watched the loaded, stained diaper plop to the floor in front of me.  It was the same kind I was wearing, but it was rolled up, bloated, and obviously full from the brownish tinge across the outside.  I reflexively looked down at my hand expecting it to be equally filthy, but I was surprised to see it clean, and then I realized it didn’t smell either.  I didn’t understand what kind of sick joke this was, but knew I wouldn’t like the answer.

I stared back at the torturous trio with a look of disgust and then I got it.

“What’s the matter, Boo Boo?  You don’t like your new stuffy?”  Caroline said with fake concern.
I quickly shook my head no and my heartbeat spiked as she stepped up to me and delivered the punchline:

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not real.  It’s completely clean, just filled with a gel and some dye, but this will be your little stuffed friend for a while.  Dirty diapers are normal for you now.  You’re going to be wearing them, your diaper pail here will be full of them, and now you have one to cuddle in your crib.  Could you show your parents and your Auntie Caroline how much you appreciate your new toy with a big ‘ol snuggle?”

Looking back to my parents, I kept shaking my head no.  I don’t care if it’s technically clean, I’m not hugging what looks like a diaper full of shit.  

Caroline turned to them also and continued, “I’m sorry, it looks like he would rather play with the real dirty diaper he made earlier, I’ll be right back.”

Without another word, she began walking towards the door, and I absolutely believed that she would pull that overloaded diaper out and give it to me.  Frantically, I yelled through the pacifier, grabbed the “toy” diaper, and pulled it tight to my chest.  It felt squishy and revolting, but that didn’t stop me from squeezing the thing and rocking it back and forth while my cries turned to sobs.

Then she stopped.

She actually stopped.

For the moment, I calmed down and kept hugging the fake dirty diaper in an exaggeratedly childish manner.

“See, he’s already learning to make the right decisions.  Don’t stop snuggling your diaper, Boo Boo.  I’m going to talk to your mom and dad about your new room, and when we’re done, I want you to have a name picked out for it.”

A name?  If I were still in a world where everyone wasn’t crazy, I could think of a hundred names in a second, and my favorite would be Shitfuckenstein’s Monster.  But I’m here in Loony Land where people are seriously asked to name an artificial messy diaper like it’s a beloved toy.  Even ignoring names that would definitely get me punished, my smart-ass spirit was too strong and I struggled to think of anything safe.  Dirty Dan?  Mr. Brown?

Mom, Dad, and Caroline were standing by a tall bookshelf and discussing the items on it, and I took a minute to further inspect the fake dirty diaper.  I tried to undo the tapes to confirm that it wasn’t real, but they were glued down, holding the diaper shut as if it was ready to be thrown away.  It smelled the same as a fresh diaper, but it looked exactly the same as the one I was wearing in the car, and mushed around in my hands in a way that made my stomach turn.

The next second, we were all distracted by a loud thud from the floor above us, followed by a rapid series of smacks and high-pitched howls.

“Sounds like someone has been naughty.” Mom said in a silly tone, and I was the only person in the room who didn’t think it was funny.  

Just above, there was a boy like me getting punished for something, and hearing his cries made me feel a little better.  Not for any sadistic reasons, but because I suddenly didn’t feel so alone out here.  The commotion ended as quickly as it began, and my parents wrapped up their conversation with Caroline before returning to me.

“Did you think of a good name for your diaper buddy?” Mom asked, unfastening the strap holding the pacifier in my mouth, “Nothing bad now, just tell us what name you picked out for your new friend.”

I had been so distracted by listening to that other boy get spanked, that I forgot about picking a name.  The pacifier was taken out of my mouth and I anxiously held the diaper tighter, feeling it mush around again as I searched my brain for a name.

“Ummm,” I hesitated before squeaking out the first thing that came to mind, “Mush, Mush?”

“Awww, what a cute wittle name for your stuffy!” Caroline said in her baby talk again, “For these first few weeks, I want you to take good care of Mush Mush.  When I can tell that you’ve finally accepted dirty diapers as a part of your new life, we can put away Mush Mush and I’ll give you your stuffed bunny back.  For some Bunnies, that can take months, and for others it’s a couple weeks, but you can go at your own pace, Boo Boo.”

I stayed there on my knees and whined slightly as Mom replaced the pacifier and the strap holding it in, and then Caroline continued speaking,

“Well, everything is settled for now.  You two can get Boo Boo dressed for bed, if you have anything to talk about, you may, and lights-out is at 7:00.  The guest room is right across the hall, and it has its own bathroom so you can freshen up after this long, exciting day.”

Exciting is not the word I would use, but I was a little happy to hear that I might get a chance to talk again.  Mom and Dad thanked Caroline for being an accessory to kidnapping before she exited the room and shut the door, leaving us alone together.

The room was silent for a few seconds, before Dad interrupted it with, “Well, we should get a certain kiddo dressed in his jammies.  He has another big day coming up tomorrow and needs plenty of rest.”

Today was bad enough, I didn’t even want to think about what tomorrow held.

Mom grabbed my hand to help me up, and then walked me over to the crib where Dad was waiting with a bundle of pajamas that he had retrieved from a drawer below the bed.  He took the fake diaper away from me and set it down on the mattress, and I could only stand there sucking on my pacifier as my parents began undressing me.

Dad started on the shortalls while Mom took care of the shirt, and I tried my best not to think about how I don’t even have autonomy over my clothes anymore.  I looked over everything I could see from this wall, which was mostly the giant crib, a mobile of rabbit characters hanging above it, and the bookshelf, which held everything from diapers and lotions to jars of baby food and bottles.

“Oh wow, he needs a change too! Boo Boo already peed his diaper.”
I was so distracted by the babyish room and everything else that I had briefly forgotten that little occurrence.  Like instinct, my first reaction was to come up with an excuse for it, but even if I could manage to get a coherent sentence through the pacifier, Mom had already beaten me to the next words.

“Really?  We just changed him about an hour ago.”  She said, sliding a finger into my crotch to verify what the cloudy blue line down the front announced.  “I guess he did.  Are you sure we ever potty trained this kid?”

I choked back a cry as I looked away and pretended like I wasn’t paying attention.  Obviously, I knew that I was potty trained, but I couldn’t ignore the worrying truth that not counting what happened in the car,  I’ve had two real wet accidents in the last 24 hours.  Did they give me something that makes it harder to hold my pee?

“Aw, it’s OK, Boo Boo.  We’re just teasing.  It’s your job to make your diapers all wet and stinky, and it’s our job to get you clean and dry, so keep up the good work.”  Mom continued while rolling out a colorful plastic mat on top of the bed and collecting changing supplies from the nearby shelf.  

I was now completely stripped of my clothes except for my socks and the soggy diaper, and without any warning, Dad swooped down, gathered my legs in one arm, and laid me down onto the crib mattress that noisily crinkled under my weight.  

“Upsies! Time for changies!”  He sang, following Mom’s lead in apparently forgetting that I’m not actually a baby.  “That used to be your little diaper change jingle, and just before you potty trained, that’s what you would say to let us know you needed a change.  Want to take your pacifier out and give it a try?”

I was surprised that he was suddenly asking me whether or not I wanted to do something, and I paused for a moment before shaking my head no, sightly scared that I was inadvertently selecting some unforeseen consequence.

“That’s quite all right, Kiddo, maybe another time.  Here’s your Mush Mush, and you just lie back and let us get you cleaned up.”

I was looking straight up, and in an instant, all of the various sensations became too overwhelming, and I started crying again.  The crinkly plastic mat against my bare back.  The lukewarm softness of “Mush Mush” against my chest.  The rubber pacifier teat in my mouth.  The smell of baby powder.  The cozy, sleeping rabbits dangling from mobile above the crib.  The squishy diaper pushing my legs apart.  I know that I’m not a baby, but experiencing all of this at once, it’s impossible to feel like anything but.  The next voice I heard was Mom’s.  

“Now, Boo Boo, before we get your nighttime diaper on, do you have any more potties or poopies you need to get out?  You’re going to be wet by morning, but I don’t want you to be too uncomfortable tonight after such a long day.”

I didn’t even respond to that question, I just looked to the side, put the diaper over my face to hide my embarrassment, and unintentionally gave a few nervous sucks on the pacifier.  I didn’t feel like I had any business to do, but I also had zero interest in doing it right now even if I did.  

“I think he’s too little to know if he has to go yet.”  Dad answered for me.  “Let’s try what we used to do when he was really small.”

With that, he wrapped one arm around both of my legs and pushed my knees back towards my stomach, and with the other hand, he began rubbing my belly.  I was confused at first, but it didn’t take long before I felt a familiar pressure building in my tummy.  An audible gurgle revealed what I was trying to hide, and I groaned into the dummy as I realized that it was going to happen for the third time today.

And continue to happen for the foreseeable future.  

Dad continued his ritual and Mom held one of my hands, cooing,

“Go on, Boo Boo.  Give a big push for mommy.”

Tears spilled from my eyes as I gave up and expelled the last of the milk from the car into my diaper.  There wasn’t as much as earlier, but my current posture caused gravity to spread the mess in the opposite direction, and I wriggled in Dad’s grasp as the warmth crept dangerously close to the waistband.

“That’s it, good boy.  Get all those yucky poopies out for mommy and daddy.”

I didn’t bother fighting it, and a short stream of pee soaked into the front as a series of farts indicated that I was finished pooping myself.

“There there, Boo Boo.  Good job.”  Mom kept on saying, patting my messy backside.  

This is it.  This is my life now.  Each pat on my ass spread the mess even more, but they felt like the blows of nails being driven into the coffin of everything that I was looking forward to just yesterday.  No more beers, just milk bottles.  No more girlfriends, only babysitters.  I’ve lost all my games, my only toy is a dirty diaper, and the only attention my dick is going to get is having my own shit wiped off of it.

Dad let my legs down and went right for the tapes on my diaper, and the first whiff of my mess sent me bawling.

“Don’t cry, Mr. Stinkypants, the poopy will be gone in a minute.” He said, pushing a baby wipe into my ass crack to begin my first proper diaper change.

The sensation of the wipe on my private parts did little to settle me down, and I felt no different than a real baby, crying my eyes out while I lay helplessly through a messy diaper change.

“It’s OK, baby boy.”  Mom consoled, pumping some lotion into her hand.  “It’s just a poopy diaper.  You’ve had them before, you’re going to have them again, and a grown-up will always be there to change you.  Maybe this will help.”

I flinched when her hands landed on my stomach, and she started rubbing the lotion into my body.  The lotion actually did improve the situation, because its soft, floral fragrance fought off the smell of my babyish deed.

What was probably a couple minutes felt like an hour, but eventually I had been thoroughly wiped and Dad was dusting me with baby powder.  Next, my knees were pushed up again and he slid a clean diaper underneath me, its frilly material tickling my back and legs.  Just like earlier, he finished the process by taping it snug around my waist before making sure it was equally secure in my crotch.

“Good as new, Boo Boo.  The stinky is all gone, at least for now.” Dad teased, depositing the used diaper into the pail and rubbing sanitizer on his hands.  “All that’s left are your jammies.”

Mom removed my socks and rotated my feet off of the mattress to prepare them for the pajamas Dad was holding.  Out of all of the surprises I had endured today, this one wasn’t.  They were baby blue footie pajamas with a poofy white tail, a hood with bunny ears, and they zipped up the back.  He guided my feet into the legs of the pajamas and Mom prepared my hands for the sleeves, then I noticed something was off about them.

The sleeves didn’t have any holes at the end; they were longer than normal and stitched shut after a satin portion that was decorated like a paw.  As the top of the pajamas was pulled over my arms and chest, I could feel that the ends of the sleeves also had a thin layer padding sewn into them.  I rubbed my hands together within their confines and it was clear that I wouldn’t be able grab or hold anything while dressed in this.

“Don’t worry, there’s nothing your hands need to be doing while you’re in bed.” Mom said, pulling the hood over my head and zipping the pajamas up my back, “If there’s anything you need at night, you can cry and an adult will come to help.”

I heard two snaps get closed at the back of my neck, and I was effectively sealed into these pajamas until someone chooses to take them off of me.  Satisfied with their work, Mom and Dad sat on either side of me, and Dad lowered the bunny hood, saying,

“We’re going to take the pacifier out now so we can give you your bedtime bottle, but before that, do you want to say anything or ask about something?  Remember that being a potty mouth won’t be tolerated.”

I hadn’t forgotten already, and for the moment, I was just glad to be rid of the pacifier after putting up with it for hours.  The strap was unbuckled and Dad pulled the teat from my mouth while I started thinking of what I needed to say.  

“So, Kiddo, is there anything you want to talk about before we tuck you in?” Mom asked, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.

There were so many different things I wanted to talk about that I was having trouble deciding what to ask first.  My thoughts about this infantile incarceration were ready to explode out of me, but I temporarily put those aside and chose to try one last Hail Mary attempt at turning things around.

“Is it too late for us to meet in the middle?  I’ll wear diapers, I’ll act like a baby, I’ll do whatever, but can’t I do it at home?  I don’t want to stay here for six months, and I bet that you’ll be concerned about me, so why don’t we take all this stuff back home and just do it there?”

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I’m happy that you’re all excited to be our baby boy at home, but you need to learn how to be a baby first.”  Mom said, holding me tighter.  “Think of this like a school rather than a punishment.  They’re just going to teach you how to be a cute and innocent baby instead of a cranky big kid.”

“Back in the bathroom, with the spanking and the pacifier, is that the kind of lesson I can expect?”

My pulse quickened as I finished the question, and I was terrified of what the answer might be when Dad responded,

“No, not all.  Those were punishments for what you had done, but if you behave and do as you’re told, you will be treated with the same love and care that any toddler receives.  The sooner you surrender and accept that you’re a little baby now, the easier all of this will be, and you never know, you might actually enjoy being pampered all day.”

“I don’t want to accept that, this is humiliating.” I countered ineffectively, not caring about how whiny that sounded.

“You only feel embarrassed because you’re still thinking like a big kid, Boo Boo.  A big boy feels shame when he soils his underwear because he was expected to make it to the bathroom.  But babies don’t feel that shame because nobody expects them to do anything more than fill up their diapers.  You don’t need to feel humiliated for crawling around, sucking on a pacifier, or soaking your diapy because, just like any baby, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to be doing right now.”

Mom’s words did little to comfort me, and then Dad added,

“Think of it this way.  You just pooped your baby diaper while I held you, then I wiped all that stinky off of your butt, and dressed you in your nighttime outfit.  If that’s the most embarrassing thing that could have possibly happened, then it already happened.  That’s as bad as it gets.  And did you live?”

I risked a glance at him and he kept looking at me expecting an answer to his obvious question.  I shrugged and replied with a defeated,

“Yeah.”

“There you go.  If you could live through that, then the rest of this will be a breeze.”  

That’s actually a good point, or it would be if I didn’t entirely believe that the worst had passed.

“What if something really bad happens and I need to contact you two?”

“We will be in contact, don’t worry.” Mom reassured, “We will check in with you every couple weeks on the phone, and you can always wave to us on the baby monitor.  We both can access this camera on our devices any time so we can make sure our baby stays safe.”

She gestured towards the top of the crib, and sure enough, what I previously thought was just a plushy moon decoration strapped to one of the bars was disguising a camera.  I didn’t like the idea of being watched all the time, but it also relaxed me slightly since that should mean nothing too terrible is likely to happen after Mom and Dad leave.

“This is all too much.  And when I get home, what happens then?  Are you really going to keep me like this?”

Dad took over to answer this one, “When you’re back home, nobody is going to force you to be a baby, but potty training will take some time.  I can’t tell you how long it’s going to be before you get to wear underwear again, that will be up to you, but you’ll be able to have your big kid clothes, food, and games back.”

“Unless you want to keep being a baby.”  Mom interrupted. “Nobody is going to force you to grow up either.  If it turns out that you really love getting tucked in at night or fed from your baba, then that’s fine too, and I’ll be there every day to make sure you’re snug and safe in bed.”

Trapped in her embrace, a warm feeling washed over me and I didn’t understand it.  It didn’t feel bad, but it was strange and I almost felt comfortable for a moment.  This sensation remained as Mom continued,

“And speaking of getting tucked in, it’s about time for you to go ni-ni, Boo Boo.  We’re going to be just across the hall, so if you have a nightmare or another messy diaper, you can cry and we’ll come make it better.”

She kept holding me as Dad got up from the mattress, then Mom started slowly pushing me over towards the pillow side of the crib.  I didn’t resist, and this bed was actually incredibly soft, which was good if I was going to be in it for 11 hours a day.

I lay my head on the pillow while Dad passed a blanket from the shelf over to Mom.  She unfolded it, revealing a colorful pattern of balloons and blue, satin frills around the entire perimeter, and then she tossed it over me.  The blanket was slightly weighted, but as soft as a cloud, and that warm feeling persisted while Mom adjusted it until everything from my shoulders to my feet was properly covered.

“There you are, all tucked in, Boo Boo.” She said, leaning down and planting a kiss on my cheek. “And we can’t forget about your Mush Mush.”

I was trying to wipe her kiss off when Mom pushed the diaper into my hands and then pulled the blanket back up over them.  I didn’t fuss, and Dad returned to the edge of the crib holding two bottles.

“Ready for your bedtime bottle?”  Dad asked, placing one of the two in a fabric pouch that was attached to one of the crib bars near my head.

“That one is in case you get thirsty overnight, but this other one is for you to drink now.”

I saw the bottle and I recoiled away from it, afraid of it resulting in another diaper blowout sometime in the middle of the night.

“Don’t worry, it’s different from the ones you had earlier.” Mom said, understanding my hesitation. “This one is powdered milk with chamomile, lemon, and melatonin to help you sleep.  It’s not going to make your tummy hurt.”

It took a few seconds, but I calmed down and settled back into the soft pillow as Dad pushed the nipple towards my mouth.  Unlike earlier, I was grateful for this drink, probably because all of the crying hasn’t been good for my hydration, and I closed my eyes to receive the bottle.

My first suck confirmed what Mom had said, and the drink was surprisingly good.

“Isn’t that yummy, Boo Boo?” She said, petting my shoulder through the blanket. “You get to have this every night here.  Aren’t you a lucky baby?”

I didn’t feel very lucky, but every new mouthful of milk seemed to wash away some of my stress, and I felt more and more sleepy as I drank.  What else was in this bottle?  Maybe I can find out tomorrow.

“Aw, look at him go.” I heard Dad whisper. “Boo Boo loves his baba.”

His voice floated around me, then it was joined by Mom’s, only she had begun to softly sing,

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away

I was warm all over, and it wasn’t from the blanket nor the pajamas.  This was a kind of internal warmth that I didn’t recognize, but I didn’t want it to go away.  Mom continued to sing and I finished the bottle, my eyelids too heavy to open again as I began to drift off into sleep.

The sooner you surrender and accept that you’re a little baby now, the easier all of this will be.

Dad’s words from earlier echoed in my head, and my defenses fell as the warm comfort carried me away into sleep.  This isn’t over, and I’m sure I’ll find a chance to push back against this baby nonsense tomorrow.  I just need to take

a little

rest.
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