On a changing table in the nursery.

Jordan was rendered speechless as he was led into the daycare center full of people. There wasn't a regular baby in sight, yet with the exception of a few daycare workers, everyone there was dressed a fraction of their age.

Teenagers in brightly colored overalls. Young adults in diapers. Men and women old enough to have babies of their own dressed like babies themselves.

A trio of near-identical blondes tapping away at their smartphones like high school mean-girls, dressed in barbie-pink designer dresses and tutus and binkies. A man and a woman in their thirties sucking on rubber nipples to empty their bottles of apple-juice. A ginger boy in a t-shirt, diaper and sneakers squatting and pooping his pants as his friends were constructing a city out of wooden blocks.

The only person who even acknowledged that he was there was a man his age. He had short black hair with a bleached stripe, a jeweled earring, even whiskers on his lip. He was dressed in a short-sleeved, bright-blue onsie with a single breast-pocket, the frills of his diaper poking from the leg-holes. Even with how juvenile his clothes were, the lack of sleeves and pants only drew Jordan's attention to how toned his arms and legs were. His gaze followed Jordan before giving him a wave.

Jordan almost found it reassuring, giving him a nervous wave right back before realizing that they had made it to their destination.

"Alright. Let's get you changed so that you can find some new friends."

"Wait, you mean, in front of all these people?"

"Oh course, baby boy. Babies don't care about getting changed in front of people. Besides, you don't have anything I haven't seen before."

The changing table was at knee height, which made sense since the babies at this nursery are heavier than your average toddler. Mrs. Campbell undid the snap and zipper of Jordan's shorts and tugged it down, his pants pulling at his ankles as it exposed his used diaper. Jordan reflexively tried to cover his shame, one hand trying to block the front while the other tugged down the back of his shirt.

"Alright Jordan. Lie down while I clean you up."

Jordan felt the world staring at him, but no one else in the nursery was actually staring. Not even the hot stranger, who was having a conversation with a younger woman in a red and white sundress.

He found himself lying down as she undid the tapes of his diaper and wiped him down with practiced finesse. Both hands were on his face, hoping to physically suppress his shame. His mommy had changed him a few times before now, and he even went through the trouble of shaving his body to make diaper changes as simple as possible, but having your mommy change you in the privacy of your home was different from being changed by a stranger in public.