hydration time

“Alright, sweeties,” Miss Emily chimed as she stood, her pastel cardigan swaying gently, “it’s hydration time! Let’s keep those little tummies full and those nappies nice and squishy, hm?”

Caretakers began moving about the room like clockwork, opening a pastel bin filled with baby bottles of all sizes and colors—some clear with cheerful animals, others frosted pink or blue. Each was already filled to the brim with warm formula or diluted juice. A few of the more eager littles raised their arms expectantly, and bottles were slipped into their waiting hands without hesitation.

Lilly stayed seated on the rug, still processing the story—Timmy’s Big Adventure felt a little too targeted. Her mind kept circling the same thought, the one she didn’t want to entertain: What if they don’t let me go?

A soft crinkling made her glance to the side.

Jamie was lying back against a large plush caterpillar, his eyes half-lidded as he suckled rhythmically on a green bottle with a froggy on it. His cheeks puffed slightly with each suck, slow and steady. He looked so… content. Not happy, not embarrassed—just quiet, relaxed.

Then she noticed the shift.

His legs twitched a little, his brow furrowed for the briefest moment. He paused in his sucking—but only for a second. Then came the sound. The softest, faintest hiss, barely audible under the ever-present crinkling.

Lilly’s eyes widened.

Jamie was wetting himself.

Right there, in the middle of the rug, in front of everyone—while drinking from a bottle. He didn’t announce it, didn’t even seem to care. There was no fuss, no shame. If anything, he looked… relieved. His shoulders slumped. His legs splayed out a bit wider. He let out a quiet breath and kept nursing like nothing had happened.

A caretaker passed by and gave his nappy a light, practiced squish, nodding approvingly before continuing on.

Lilly stared.

Her own bladder ached now, the pressure having built to an uncomfortable peak. She had been trying to ignore it, but the soft hissing sound Jamie had made seemed to trigger something deep inside her. It was like her body recognized it, understood the message: You're wearing one too. You don’t have to hold it.

But Lilly clenched her thighs together.

No.

She wasn’t going to give in like Jamie. She wasn’t going to become that comfortable. She still had her dignity, didn’t she?

Except the pressure was growing now. Every little shift in her seat made her wince, the thick nappy pressing into her, reminding her it was there. Waiting. Ready.

A caretaker knelt beside her, holding out a soft pink bottle with a bunny printed on the side. “Here you go, sweetheart. Drink up—hydrated littles are happy littles.”

Lilly hesitated, staring at the bottle. It looked warm. Sweet. Comforting. Just like the one Jamie was drinking from when he…

Her fingers trembled as she took it, her pride already chipping.

She brought it to her lips and began to suckle, slow and hesitant at first.

And with each sip, her bladder tensed tighter.