✅ The Baby Makers

48. In The End

Stacie bounced in her seat as Phil put the television on in the corner. She wanted to do something more active, but she could understand that Phil was a bit tired. He was a grown-up, and he knew everything, but he couldn't keep running around as much as a little baby. She watched cartoons for a few minutes, looking down sometimes to see if her pull-up was still dry. She wanted to show that she was a good girl, so that she could impress Phil. She was really excited about finding out if she could, and that made a big difference.

"How are you doing?" Phil asked, as one cartoon ended and another started. Then he reached over to check her diaper, getting just a little blush from the baby. "Still dry? Good girl! If you can keep it up until noon, we can see about letting you use the potty, and then you can be a big girl again until the next time I see you."

"Still dry," she squeaked, and gave a little giggle. She looked at the clock on the wall, and wondered when noon was. She should have been able to read the clock, but she didn't want to be that big just yet. Besides, that clock was a few minutes fast, so it didn't mean anything. Soon she would have to be a big girl. Phil said she could be a baby again when he saw her, and she did her best not to think about that. Babies didn't need to think about things, after all. But she didn't want to imagine Phil not being there beside her. She was a baby, she needed help. She needed Phil! If she was going to grow up and he'd go away, she didn't want to grow up.

She had to try. She had to try her hardest to be a big girl, so she could impress Phil and make him happy. But she didn't want him to go away. She could feel the things that he had put in her mind; the things that made her so happy. They were a different flavour from her own thoughts, and she would always be able to tell the difference even if she wasn't sure why. And in this moment she looked at them more closely.

Stacie's thoughts were still childish and fuzzy. Most of them weren't in words, but she didn't need words. There were other things in her head as well, like her big-girl thoughts, but she didn't want those and she didn't need them now. And then there were the little bright sparks that she had let Phil put there, to help her with being a baby. She could look at them and know what they were; not like a scientist looking at an animal and recognising a horned gazelle, but like a child staring at one and knowing it's cute. She didn't know what to call them, or how they worked. That would need grown-up thoughts. But she would always know what they were. Like here was a little thought pinned in the back of her head, telling her that she didn't need any bog words. And here was the one that made her feel wonderful whenever he said 'Good girl!'. And on the other side of her mind, there was one he'd given her yesterday to let her have accidents like a good baby. And on top of it, another one that was much newer. A thought that showed her how to know when she needed to go potty, so that she could hold it again. One little spike that Phil had put in her head, wrapping up another one so that she could ignore it until he told her it was time for the first one again.

Stacie pouted at it. This was in her head. It was all hers, even if Phil put it there, and she knew she could do what she wanted with it. She took the new command, examined it, and then felt it dissolving. No more magic words; she didn't need to do anything she didn't want to.

She wanted to try to hold it, to be a good girl. Of course she did! She was trying as hard as she could, so that she could show Phil what a good girl she was turning into. And Stacie wanted to be a good girl more than anything else. She just didn't want to be a big girl. Still, that was all good now. She had thrown away the magic words that let her be big. So she could try as hard as she wanted to stay dry, and it would be super exciting seeing if she was a big girl yet, but she wouldn't know how to stay dry. That was the best thing to do. She wanted to try, she really did. She just didn't want to succeed.

And as she looked at the TV screen again, she felt a little feeling in her tummy, a tingle of pressure that was hard to recognise. She knew what it must be, she needed to make tinkles, but she didn't recognise it. She tried though, clamping down as hard as she could and trying to hold it. She could do it; it was hard, but she was holding it. She might even be able to hold it until lunch time. She put a hand down between her legs and pressed on her pull-up as if that might help her hold it better. She could do it! Phil would be so proud of her.

"Do you need to go potty?" Phil asked. "Good girl. Come on." He held out a hand to take hers, maybe to lead her to the potty in the next room. She stood up with an excited smile, hoping that she could please him, and then there was another feeling. She wobbled on her legs a little bit, bent slightly, and pushed. She felt the weight of poop filling the back of her diaper, even though it wasn't long since she got changed. And she remembered just enough big-girl thoughts to know she should be embarrassed about that. But she hoped Phil could make those thoughts go away again, so she could be a good baby.

It squished against her bum as she sat down again. It felt a little bit icky, but it was good too. Warm, and reminding her that she was still a little baby. There was nothing else she needed to think.

"Aww, could you not hold it?" Phil asked. "I think–"

She didn't catch the rest of that sentence. She spaced out for a second, blinking in surprise, and looked up at Phil. She tried to collect her thoughts, to work out what she was thinking and feeling. She didn't know what to say next, and she had no idea how this conversation was going to go; but she hoped he would be happy at the end of it.