Having to mess your pants way past your bedtime, and helplessly wriggling and groaning in your spiked mittens and booties behind the confines of an impossibly large wooden crib.
Your each everyone movement and complaint is outlined audibly by your bulky nighttime padding. Your caregiver doesn’t even need the baby monitor, they can hear your discomfort from a few doors down.
They sleepily undo the nursery door lock, and walk over to the crib, unlatching the side wall and plucking you into their arms and over their shoulder like you weigh less than nothing.
Tears form at the corners of your eyes in both pain and embarrassment as your stomach begs for relief. Your caregiver rubbing your backside softly, cooing in a sing-song voice:
“There, there. Such a grumpy baby tonight, hm? Just let go for me, hun. Your trusty Huggies will keep it all under control.”
They kiss the side of your forehead and it’s like the spell has been lifted. Your body goes limp on demand, and you burrow your face into your caregiver’s neck as you slowly and softly push, your padded backside bulging slightly above the arm supporting it.
The diaper shifts and sags under its new weight, and the nursery begins to smell a tad more authentic. In your dozy, baby-brained state, you hardly even realize what just transpired.
Your eyes snap closed and you drift off almost immediately, too sleepy to complete anything more than your most basic bodily functions.
Your caregiver grins, happy with how thoroughly they’ve broken you into the perfect little infant. They lay you down gently on the changing table, carefully so as to not disturb your sleep.
Your old nighttime padding is replaced with blinding efficiency by another of the same brand and thickness, and you’re hoisted up and back into your crib like the whole incident never even happened.
