pbbbbt, dork.

Apple or grape, bluey or blues clues…

You don't even get to choose your own clothes, somehow getting toddler-core outfits put together out things in your wardrobe.

After the week of babying, you don't think you can ever go back, and when your parent's see you napping, you definitely won't…

The sitter getting the wrong idea when they heard you were still in diapers, preparing to take care of a toddler not a tween. And a toddler they'll take care of.

Autonomy pulled out from under you, the only choices you really get to make all week are inconsequential ones.

They're mostly hands off on the whole ordeal, making you deal with buying them at the store and emptying your pail weekly.

You're fine with the agreement, although sometimes you miss being able to get the latest video games. Until you have to have a babysitter for a week, anyways…

When it doesn't end after a month, they finally give in and let you have diapers again, at the expense of your monthly video game allowance; already having a pail put in your room after the first week so you have somewhere to toss the ones you're sent home in.

While they're a tad shocked at your actions, they end up thinking its just a weird phase; telling the attendants to continue putting you in hand-me-downs until you get it all out of your system.

Unfortunately you get caught in the act; ending up having to spend the rest of the day in hand-me-down diapers and explaining it all to your parents when they come pick you up.

Also omitting the fact that you'll need diapers for the first few years of transformations until you relearn how to use the muscles down there…

Which mostly ends up being staring at yourself in the mirror, ogling the Luvs that you didn’t even know came in your size; let alone any diapers for that matter.

As you tug your clothes back on, undies getting tossed into the trash can, you vow to try to figure out how to get your own…

A healthy dose getting sprinkled onto your fluff before the diaper is done up snug by practiced paws.

With a ‘have fun, kid,’ they’re back out the door, leaving you to your own devices.

The spotted hyena shaking their head as they spy you atop the table. You can only manage a few stuttery squeaks when they ask if you need help. A teasing giggle sneaking out their muzzle as they grab the baby powder they forgot.

Gently picking at the tapes until you get it unballed, laying it out before you hop onto the table yourself.

The second you get yourself in place, the door clicks open; forgetting to lock it behind you in your autopilot.

It isn’t until you feel the cool air against your tush that your train of thought is disrupted.

While you didn’t expect to wear a used diaper for your first time back in them since toddlerhood; your longing subconscious seems to have decided for you.

You quickly take a peek in the trash can to find your thoughts confirmed. Shaky paws hefting the balled up padding out from the bin, setting it on the changing table.

Mind lost in thought, just taking in the sight, your paws are subconsciously stripping your bottom half.

It isn’t long before they both come back out, the bag on the spotted shoulder looking a little disheveled and the kitten with a little less of a waddle.

Paws working on auto before your mind can even catch up, slipping into the unoccupied restroom.

A slight waddle to their gait and paw firmly held in a larger spotted one, headed in the direction of the restrooms.

You try to tell yourself that you’re just imagining it, but the butterflies in your tummy make you keep your eyes on the pair as they enter the family room.

Of course you have to wear diapers even if you’re pretending to be a big kid instead of a pet, you’re still not housebroken after all.