You feel the need to go. You look around for a way to the bathroom, but the only door is gated up. You feel the rush of waiste going through you, your toddler muscles are already tiring. You look down just in time to see your pull-up as it fills with your mess. You did it again! Soon enough the slippery, itching, burning feelings of the soiled pull-up return and you begin to cry. You cry helplessly, your mother returns and picks you up, "Honey? Whats wrong?" She sniffs "Whew! Again?" She then changes you, ripping off the old one and getting a fresh one. "Is this how it's gonna be??" You think sadly to yourself. Your mother then...
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