Personalias's Flash Fictions

Chapter 8
Mistake

You said that there had been some kind of mistake.

They said they believed you but that certain protocols had to be followed, just in case.

They promised that the sailor outfit they dressed you in was the most grown-up outfit they had in your size, and you didn't want everyone to see you in just your diaper, did you?

As you watched them write your name on a cubby right next to the changing table and slide a stack of fresh diapers in, they told you it was just a formality and if you told them you needed to use the potty like the grown-ups they'd take you right away.

You proved how big you were by eating and swallowing all of the funny tasting food without complaint, taking each spoonful offered up to you in that highchair with grace and aplomb.  Not fussing and fighting like the real babies were.

You were so good, they praised you and gave you a bottle of chocolate milk.  You almost complained, but then remembered yourself and sucked down the sweet stuff without comment.   Nor did you protest when they patted you on the back until you burped.  You thanked them instead.

You didn't play with the other kids...the kids...not other kids...you weren't a...no...not at all.  In fact you rejected their silly stories about how they too were adults who had woken up here and were now being babied against their will.  How ridiculous!  What an imagination!

There was a close call, admittedly, when your pants warmed up and you thought you might be peeing yourself.  Oh no! How would anyone believe you were a grown-up if you were wearing a wet diaper?!

But when one of the workers checked you, they said "You don't need a change just yet."  What a relief! Still, it felt weird...like the diaper had expanded somehow.  Heavier.  Less crinkly.  And your gait had more of a waddle to it.

That was a while ago. Any minute now the people in charge of this place would realize the mistake they made, give you back your big kid pants, and you'd be on your way home.  According to one of them, it was almost lunch time, and after that would be a nap. Any. Minute.  Now.

You stood up from your little one person huddle (why were you squatting?) and sighed your relief before the sound of a giggle and the feeling of your diaper's waistband being pulled back caused your spine to go ramrod straight.  NOW, they told you, it was time to get changed.

Holding their hand and waddling to keep up, you tried to protest.  There had been a mistake!  You weren't a baby.  You were potty trained!  Honest!  This was just an accident!

The caregiver just laughed and clicked their tongue.  It was no accident, and who would ever potty train you?  You were such a sweet thing and far too little to potty train.    

You rattled off everything about yourself.  Name. Birth date. Occupation. You were too old to be a baby!

"I never said too young," the caregiver clarified. "I said 'too little'."

Now you're on the changing table, the bottom half of your sailor outfit stripped off you, and your soggy and messy diaper on full display for everyone.  Not that anyone cares to look or feels embarrassed for you.  Getting changed here is nothing to write home about.  Commonplace.

You suck on the soother offered to you and brace yourself while someone else's hands go to undo your last bit of privacy. As the sound of ripping tapes fills the air, the last truly adult thought you'll ever have flashes across your mind.  

"Maybe I made the mistake."