Stuff I Like

He opened his eyes to find his Mommy’s best friend, Amy, smiling down at him. Sensing his unease, Amy runs her fingers through his hair.

“Shhh shh shhh…you’re okay, little one. No need to be upset! It’s just a poopy diapie, nothing Auntie Amy can’t handle.”

His pacifier bobbed erratically, reflecting his anxiety as he tried to decide what to say. Or what to do. He instinctively reaches for the blanket to cover his diaper.

“No need to be shy, hun,” Amy cooed, patting his diaper. “Auntie Amy knows all about your diapies, binkies, and nappyppos. Now, how about we get you out of that icky diapie, hmmm?”

Eevee could barely process what was happening. Sure, he was used to being Mommy’s little baby, but he always assumed his newfound status as her little was private.

Especially because Mommy made sure nobody would notice the diapers under his clothes when they went out in public. And always handled public diaper checks and changes as discreetly as possible.

Plus there was something about the way Amy was speaking to him—like it was perfectly normal and routine to find him in a poopy diaper—that only added to his confusion.

Amy lowered the bars of his crib and held out a hand for him to grab, still smiling that same sweet smile. She squealed in utter delight when he stood up and his overworked diaper drooped ominously between his legs.

“Ahhh! You’re so stinking cute, mister! I can’t believe your Mommy made us wait so long to see you!”

All Eevee could do is stand there in a comically sagging diaper, blushing furiously.

“Not that I blame her! I’d keep something this adorable all to myself too!”

It was one thing to be treated so casually little by Mommy. But having Amy treat him so authentically infantile was far more overwhelming.

Eevee never felt more little in the six months since his wife became Mommy. Not because Mommy never succeeded in making him feel itty bitty, of course.

No, Mommy was a master at making him feel like the little he always wanted to be.

But this was different. Amy was a friend. Someone who was supposed to see him as an adult.

Yet here she was, acting like he was just some silly baby in need of a diaper change. Without even a hint of derision or mockery in her voice or smile.

Amy playfully spanked his diaper. “C’mon, stinker. You know the drill. Waddle that tushie on over to the changing table.”

Still too embarrassed to talk, Eevee soothed himself with his binky as he marched to his changing table.

He noticed Amy admiring the stacks of diapers and changing supplies so brazenly out in the open. His diapers, diaper pail, and crib leaving no doubt of his status as a permanent pamper packer.

There was no pretending an adult lived in this room.

“Up,” Amy says, patting the changing table.

Eevee crawled on the table, careful not to smush his mess any more than necessary.

“Good boy!” Amy coos, pinching his cheek, “Time to clean the poopy baby!”

Eevee could hardly fathom how confident and naturally Amy handled the situation. She moved like there was absolutely nothing unusual about changing her best friend’s husband’s poopy diaper.

Like Eevee was an actual baby.

She walked to his feet, tickling them for a split second before reaching for diaper and grabbing a tab.

Rip.

Rip.

Rip.

Rip.

Without hesitation, she pulled open his diaper to reveal the full extent of his mess.

“My, someone had an awfully busy nap filling his diapie with poopoo, didn’t hims?!”

As before, there was no trace of malice in her voice. Not even the slightest hint of mockery.

She grabbed a handful of wipes and got to work wiping him clean.

“Your Mommy warned me about your habit of destroying your diapies during your naps. As if that would stop me from finally getting to meet the real Eevee.”

Amy laughed, as if not meeting baby Eevee was an utterly ridiculous notion.

“We’ve been hearing all about your transition to babyhood, eagerly awaiting the moment your Mommy finally let us meet you. Up!”

Eevee lifted his legs while Amy used the front of the old diaper to scoop the bulk of the mess from his bum.

“She wanted to make sure you were ready, of course. And I’d never rush a Mommy—she knows her baby best. But it was so hard pretending not to notice the obvious diaper bulges and acting like your sudden ‘disappearances’ with her weren’t so she could change your diaper.”

Amy balled the old diaper and tossed it into the diaper pail.

“The hardest part, though, was pretending you were still a big boy, when I knew you were actually just an itty bitty baby.”

Amy wiped Eevee’s special parts without even the slightest acknowledgment of its adult purpose—as if his private parts were no different from his tummy or shoulders.

As if he were a baby.

Eevee whimpered, realizing he truly got everything he wanted. To his Mommy—and now Amy—he was unmistakably a little. He was no longer an adult whose private parts commanded dignity and privacy. No, they were simply something to be cleaned during changes, nothing more.

This was his new life—there was no going back.

“Uh oh! I’m sorry, honey!” Amy apologized, mistaking the cause of Eevee’s whimpering, “How could I forget to warm up the wipes?”

Determined to make the baby more comfortable, Amy diligently warmed the last few wipes needed to clean him.

“There, no more stinkies!”

She glanced down under the changing table at the seemingly unlimited selections of diapers. Each more adorable than the last.

“Hmm, so many choices, kiddo! You’re spoiled, you know that? Oh! This one is perfect! It looks just like real Pampers!”

Eevee watched as she methodically folded and fluffed the diaper, still completely naked.

“Lift that tushie, sweetie,” Amy cooed, sliding the diaper under him.

The moment Amy grabbed the baby oil, Eevee blushed more than ever before, knowing what was about to happen. Amy just smiled and tickled his tummy.

In any other context, having a woman rub his privates so thoroughly would be unmistakably sexual.

There was nothing sexual about this.

It was simply part of the diaper change. Eevee needed baby oil to prevent diaper rash, and Amy was changing his diaper. Why would Amy treat it as anything different?

Eevee was a baby—not an adult. This was perfectly natural.

“All done!” Amy announced, wiping the oil from her hand with a wipe. “Thank you for being a patient little cutie all change! Once I get you powdered you can go see Mommy!”

As Amy grabbed the baby powder, Eevee felt an all-too-familiar shudder in his bladder. He tried to hold it, but he had been in diapers too long. There was nothing he could do.

“Ut oh! Tinkle explosion!” Amy giggled, quickly pulling up his diaper to contain his pee, “Disaster avoided.”

Amy wiped a few droplets of tinkle from his belly.

“Well, mostly. Awww, don’t be embarrassed, little one! Babies can’t help it! Why do you think I’m putting you in this diaper, hmm?”

Without waiting for a response, Amy opened up the now-damp diaper and sprinkled baby powder over his privates. When she was satisfied, she lifted his legs to powder his bum.

Finally, she lowered Eevee back down and expertly taped his diaper into place.

“Woah, hold your horses, mister!” Amy scolded Eevee as he tried to slide off the changing table, “I gotta make sure those leak guards aren’t bent or your Mommy will think I can’t handle diaper changes!”

For some reason, Eevee blushed even more when Amy’s finger slid up and down the inside of his diaper to adjust the leak guards. There was something overly infantile about it.

“There, all clean and ready to go!” Amy announced proudly.

A cloud of powder poofed from Eevee’s diaper when she patted it.

“F-fank ‘ou, A-auntie Amy,” Eevee lisped through his paci, finally finding his voice.

Amy immediately pulled him into a hug. “Awww, you’re welcome, cutie pie! Thank you for using your manners, too!”

“M..mhm!” Eevee responded.

“Oh, silly Auntie! You can’t go out in just a diapie, can you? Your Mommy left out this shirt for you. Lift up your hands!”

Amy slid the light-blue diaper shirt over each arm and lowered it.

“Oh my gosh, you look just like Tommy Pickles! Ahh, are little Rugrat!”

Eevee wasn’t sure if he was proud or wildly embarrassed.

“C’mon, mister, lets go show Mommy and Auntie Lily and Uncle Phil how adorable you are.”

Eevee stopped short at hearing who was at the house—especially knowing Phil was there.

“Don’t worry, buddy! Everyone already knows! You have nothing to be ashamed of, got it? We’re all so excited to meet the real you! Now, can you be a brave boy and take my hand so we can show everyone how adorable you are?”

As much as Eevee wanted to run and hide because apparently everyone knows he’s just a little, Auntie Amy’s smile buoyed his confidence.

Besides, why should he be ashamed?

This is who he is. This is where he belongs. This is what he’s always wanted.

Eevee takes a deep breath, grabs Amy’s hand, and follows her out the door.