🕑 Added 2025-03-08 20:41:45 +0000 UTC
Tale #152: The Birthday Gone Backwards (Part 1):
(Part 1 of a three-part story!)
(Content Tags: Messy diapers, humiliation, age regression, reality alteration, supernatural elements)
Two candles sat atop the cake, burning brightly and keeping with them a secret that only the one who lit them could know. Garish streamers were splayed out and hung from the ceiling, as if to mock the synapses that had once stretched all throughout a more mature mind.
Strapped into his highchair, wearing little more than a pair of Huggies and a bib that said 'Mama's Lil' Stinker', sat the birthday boy for which the cake had been presented. He was a chubby little toddler, with drooly lips and eyes that suggested a shallowness of higher cognition. A bottle of milk sat on the tray, which he'd already greedily nursed from he waited for the main attraction.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear TJ..."
TJ smiled a big toothy grin, most of his baby teeth having grown in and settled in his mouth. He only had a flicker of an idea of what today was supposed to be, though his mommy had repeatedly mentioned the specialness of the date; what he *did* know was that he'd gotten to play fun games, get new toys, and now it'd be time to eat something yummy!
All of his daycare pals were there too, with drool and diapers of their own, with some parents acting as chaperones for the special occasion. TJ could hardly conceptualize it now, but the truth spoke to the fact that all those tiny tots were unfortunate collateral in this special party of his.
Luckily, they had no ability to perceive that either, nor did their parents. They, like TJ, had lost things immeasurable, but it wasn't anything they had the ability to miss. How could one miss something that they didn't know they'd had? Furthermore, their little melons had more important things to 'want', such as the cake that was being put on the tray of the highchair.
TJ was drooling again, more openly, and he could feel something underneath him; there was something warm and sticky in the bottom of his diaper, and it was squishy too. When had that happened? It must have been during the song; unsurprising, considering what a little fudge factory he'd been today! At this rate, he'd be breaking his own record for most dirty diapers in a single day.
He didn't mind the sensation at all, even enjoying it in some infantile way; it felt cozy, and strangely enough, nostalgic. How could that be though? What two year old felt nostalgia? It didn't matter, not whenever cake was about to fill his gullet! Whatever meager mental power he had wouldn't be able to crack the code anyway, and some part of him wanted to stray away from such thoughts entirely.
Why think whenever he was in the middle of paradise? Stinky diaper underneath his tushy, delicious chocolate cake in front of him, and a day all about him...
"Time to blow out the candles, sweetie! Make a birthday wish, my special little man..."
TJ abruptly sat up in his bed, his heart pounding and a cold sweat dampening his shirt. The window glowed with the rising sun, telling him it was morning, though his alarm clock wouldn't buzz for another ten minutes.
*It was just a dream.*
But in some ways, it wasn't. It was a dream that'd plagued him now for the third time in the last week, with the details only seeing very slight variations. It was as spooky as it was vivid, and while the finer points melted away under the light of dawn, the key fragments remained etched in his skull like a memory that'd faded over time.
Just like the other two times, his hand groggily made its way to the back of his grey boxer-briefs, to probe for what horrors he'd so deeply felt within the dreamscape. Just like before, his underwear was untainted, and it made him feel silly to even worry.
It'd been years since he'd even wet the bed, let alone soiled it, but it just felt so *real*. It felt exactly like the sort of dream where a person would imagine they were on a toilet, and then awake to find a puddle underneath their pajamas.
He hadn't mentioned the weird dreams to anyone. He lived with just his mother, whom he'd be too embarrassed to share such a thing with, and it wasn't exactly the kind of dream that one told their friends about. After the second time, he'd gone online to see if he could find anything about deciphering what it meant, and that yielded what should have been obvious from the start:
His birthday was nearly here, he was getting older, and his subconscious was obviously just being neurotic about it. Maybe it was imposter syndrome about his own maturity, or perhaps some hidden anxiety about the responsibilities that came with age, but people online assured him that it was normal; it was something that didn't beg any questions.
That's how he decided to take it too. He wasn't about to let some bizarre string of dreams rain on his party parade!
TJ looked into the mirror with a smile as he combed his chestnut hair; it was two days until his birthday, and he would be turning fourteen this year. It felt hard to believe, since it was only as if he'd just turned thirteen and officially become a teenager! At this rate, he'd be a grownup before he knew it. Heck, he was also on the precipice of becoming a high schooler, which itself was a big step toward adulthood.
He knew his excitement was a little childish, that fourteen wasn't a crucial milestone on the road to adulthood; at least not like thirteen, sixteen, or eighteen, but it felt important to him nonetheless.
It was only natural for a boy his age to feel antsy about getting older; to feel the desire to leave behind the immature wiles of childhood and to instead graduate to bigger and better things. TJ didn't yet have the insight of how much he should appreciate the gift of youth, the gift of having few responsibilities and many opportunities for fun. It wasn't something that he'd realize he'd taken for granted until it was far too late.
Such was life. There was no going backwards, only forward; at least, that was traditionally the case.
TJ wasn't the only person acutely aware of his growth. The only other person in the house that he lived, and his sole guardian, had been having her own slew of complex feelings on the matter.
Diane, the boy's mother, had been struggling with watching another year go by in the blink of an eye. Where did the time go? It felt like just yesterday that she'd been praising her little boy for pooping on the plastic potty in the living room, and now he was about to be moving onto high school. His pinchable cheeks had lost their baby fat, his voice had deepened, and he'd sprouted up to being nearly as tall as she was.
It hadn't helped that puberty had made short work of things for TJ; in the course of less than a year, he'd gone from a squeaky little cherub that hadn't even broken five feet, to being halfway to six! He'd traded in Saturday morning cartoons for football practice, skipped his cootie shot to instead flirt with the girls in his class, and had started to become increasingly independent.
He wasn't her 'little' boy anymore, and while she knew she should be happy to see him grow and flourish, there was a part of her that didn't want to yet part with the baby that she'd nurtured all these years. Diane understood that it was selfish, but she'd also deluded herself into thinking that perhaps TJ felt similarly.
Who really wanted to 'grow up'? Acne, soulless jobs, college essays, bills, tax filing, love and loss...
The door to adulthood, adorned with promises of freedom and fun, was alluring to a child, but it was built on the edge of a cliff.
She thought that if he truly understood what awaited him on the other side of that door, that he'd happily turn away and return to the warmth of childhood's embrace.
As she placed a plate with eggs and bacon on the table, she glanced to the corner where she remembered his highchair had once rested. She thought back fondly on a time when things had been simple, when the most trying part of the day had been making airplane noises while she zoomed a plastic spoon around her son's mouth. A time when his strife had been as basic as diaper rash, or teething.
Not much longer and the young teen would be sitting across from her, while he ate his breakfast and mentally prepared for the day ahead at school. Diane would nurse a cup of coffee, smiling yet distant, her thoughts still consumed by the unshakable nature of time's unyielding progression.
"Are you okay, mom?" TJ finally asked as he prodded another piece of egg with his fork.
His voice brought her back and she slowly nodded her head. "Yes, just thinking about your party this Saturday. Are you sure you don't want me to hire a clown?"
The boy snickered at the playful jab and shook his head, "Yeah, I think I'm a little old for that."
"You and your friends won't be bored?"
The nature of the party had been softly contentious over the last few weeks; Diane had expected to do something fun and themed, like the birthdays of the previous years, but TJ had wanted something more 'mature'. He wanted minimal decorations, little structure, and the least amount of supervision that his mother would afford to him.
No bounce castles, no party hats, no clowns or magicians, and no doting mother to cramp his style. Instead, he just wanted to invite a small selection of kids from his class, and he'd treat it as a PG-13 house party, where he got to play the host. Diane had apprehensively agreed, stating that she'd stay in her room, so long as things didn't get out of control.
"No way, mom. I've been working on a playlist, and I'll set up some video games and stuff. It's gonna be super chill."
"Okay...But, no 'spin the bottle', right? Or seven minutes in heaven? Do teens still play that?" Her tone was still playful, but it hinted at an edge of seriousness.
"M-mom! We're not going to do that! It's mostly gonna be guys, anyway." TJ's face burned, and he got up to go put his plate in the sink.
The woman chuckled, "Just checking. I'll go to the store today and pick up some things for you and your friends to have at the party."
The boy would soon leave to catch the school bus, and Diane would again be left alone to her thoughts. She worked from home, on a schedule that she had a lot of control over, so she often found herself with more time than she knew what to do with. For a day like today, that was a detriment, as it gave her too much time to involuntarily explore the emptiness she'd started to feel about TJ getting older.
That was how she ended up on the sofa, going through old pictures and popping in home movies to a VCR that otherwise no longer had a function. It bathed her brain in nostalgia for a different time, and she got to see every party as it once was.
Her only break from the trip down memory lane was the trip she promised that she would make; she hoped grocery shopping would alleviate such brooding thoughts, unaware that her ultimate decision would be a forgone conclusion.
Chips, dips, soda, and all manner of snacks filled her grocery cart. She hummed a little tune to herself while she compared prices on various brands, and for a while, she again felt content with things. She was about to head to the bakery, to pick up some cookies and cupcakes, and she saw that the quickest path would cut through the diaper aisle.
She didn't think much of it at first, but rolling her shopping cart down the infantile aisle brought her mind right back to the places it had been wandering beforehand. She found herself stopping and picking up a package of Pull-Ups, adorned with the smiling face of Mickey Mouse, and reminisced about how much strife TJ had given her during his pottytraining days.
"That boy just didn't want to poop on the potty... Thought I'd have to send him to Kindergarten in diapers." She chuckled, putting the package back on the shelf.
Just as she was putting it back, a younger woman came up to pick a similar pack for her own cart. Sitting in the grocery cart was a little boy that immediately reminded Diane of TJ.
Seeming a little lost on what to pick, the younger mother turned to Diane: "Are you looking for Pull-Ups too? The name brand is kind of expensive, so I'm wondering if the store brand would still be a good choice..."
The conversation hadn't been something that Diane expected, especially in the diaper aisle of all places, but it wasn't unwelcome. "Just starting pottytraining?"
The woman sighed and nodded her head, "Well, trying to. Brayden isn't making it easy for me... He's starting preschool soon, and he's got zero interest in using the potty. I had a nightmare the other night that I was sending him diapers in his college care packages."
The two women chuckled together, and Diane picked up a more generic brand of training pants off the shelf. "It'll happen. Some kids are just slower at it than others, and boys are especially fussy about it. The store brand ones are nearly just as good, but you'll probably have to test around to find a good fit."
"Thanks, and yeah, I know...His sister is almost a year younger than him, and I swear she's already on the fast track! I hoped that would motivate him, but he doesn't seem to care."
Diane watched as the younger woman tossed the trainers into her cart, "Well, just don't stress over it. They grow up so fast, and one day you'll be looking back and wishing that you appreciated it more; even the less glamorous side of it."
The two would talk for a few minutes more, with Diane keeping secret that her own son was a decade older than the tot in the cart. It felt good to pretend for a few minutes that she was back in the same shoes as this young lady, where motherhood was still a novelty that had a long road ahead.
While they talked, the toddler in the cart was getting increasingly squirmy, and finally a muffled fart broke their conversation. Before anything could be said, the little boy's face was beginning to turn red in strain, and a wet gurgling came from the back of his shorts.
"O-oh, Brayden! I told you to tell mommy if you needed to go potty!"
The little boy either didn't hear her or didn't care, because he just kept grunting and filling his Pampers with a mushy pile. The young woman was clearly embarrassed, and perhaps a little frustrated, but Diane found the scene to be heartwarming. She could look at the tyke and see TJ, ten years back, doing the exact same thing.
"It was nice meeting you, but I should go get him changed. Good luck on pottytraining your own kiddo!"
The pair left, leaving a faint trail of fumes in their wake, and Diane was again alone on an aisle that she no longer had any reasons to visit. It left her in a state of wistfulness.
It also drove her right over the edge that she'd been teetering on all week.
Later that evening, while TJ was upstairs doing his homework in his room, Diane would be retiring to a chamber of the house that she'd long ignored. It'd always been known as her 'sewing room', and it was cluttered in such a way that spoke to that, but it was a guise for something far less mundane.
Before she'd been a mother, or a real estate agent, she'd had a deeper calling. It was one that she'd never shared with TJ, and even the boy's late father had never known about it. In the back of the sewing room was an armoire, locked and secured, but it wasn't mere fabric or spools that rested inside.
As was her birthright, from a long lineage, Diane was a witch. Or perhaps sorceress was a more accurate title. Either way, her bloodline was imbued with a deep connection to the unseen magic that filled the world, its power had never stopped pumping through her veins, even when she'd hung up her hat for good.
Using magic recklessly was a good way to become a target for darker forces, and she hadn't wanted that life for her child, so she'd decided long ago that she'd keep that side of her a secret. There had only been a few times since then that she'd felt the need to call upon the unparalleled power at her disposal.
From inside the armoire, she pulled a crimson thread that was wrapped around an old looking spool.
It was a thread of fate.
While it looked unassuming, it was actually a mystic tool that could rewrite reality itself, at least when in the hands of someone who understood its poignant power. The wicked would use it to harm others, the greedy would use it to enrich themselves, and the grieving may attempt to rewrite a wrong.
For Diane, who didn't consider herself among any of those three, she would be using it to turn back the clock. She would literally fling TJ, herself, and everyone else into an altered existence, where she could have a second chance at raising her son from nearly the start.
She could justify it to herself, since TJ would ultimately be oblivious to it, and the aching in her heart was too strong to contend with the reality of what her choice would mean. It would be a 'restart button', for the both of them, and things would be simple again.
She grabbed an hourglass full of blue sand from the cabinet as well, and then wrapped the thread around the middle. All she needed was to decide on a trigger that would act as the engine for the spell to rewrite her son's fate. Her mind returned to the scene at the grocery store earlier, with Bradyn soiling himself, and she knew exactly what the trigger should be.
TJ would start Saturday as a teen, but he'd end it as a toddler: one poopy diaper at a time.
