You open the door labeled, "2" and enter. Once inside you are blinded by a bright, white light. As you look around, a gray mist appears to envelope you. Your mind realizes that something is wrong and it struggles to remind you that you are dreaming.
You wake up in a cold sweat, as well as a wet bed. Panic stricken you look around. Your room has changed drastically. All of the posters of boys and bands have been replaced by pictures of cartoons and princess. Your bed is much smaller and is covered by a princess comforter.
Your father walks into your room and sees that you're awake. His smile quickly fades as he sees your wet bed.
"I'm sorry, sweetie, but it looks like you wet the bed. I knew we should have kept you in diapers until you were completely potty trained." Your father tells you as he reaches down and lifts you out of your bed.
It is then that you see yourself for the first time. You are clearly no older than two years old. What happened to you? Were you still dreaming? No, that was impossible, you could feel the dampness of your soaked underwear.
Your father hands you off to your mother, who takes you to the bathroom. She gives you a quick bath and you realize just how tiny you are. After she dries you off, she takes you to your bedroom and puts you onto the changing table that you had not noticed before. She expertly diapers you before she dresses you in a pink and frilly princess dress.
"There we go, such a pretty little princess. You won't have to worry about things like Prom and boys for a good long while." Your mother coos as she holds your hand and walks you into the kitchen.
Your father is now sitting at the table reading the morning paper and drinking coffee.
"Can you believe what those idiots in congress are doing? If they would just compromise with President Clinton then they wouldn't be having talks about shutting down."
Your mother lifts you up and sits you into your booster seat at the table. You stare around the kitchen in dismay. It looks like it always has, except it looks newer in a way.
"Good morning again, sweetie," Your father smiles at you. "Feeling better? Don't worry about wetting the bed. You'll grow up soon enough, but even then you'll still be daddy's little girl."
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