For a while, I didn't care about anything except playing in the fountain. The scent of chlorinated water, the sound of gushing water, and the sight of gleaming good-luck pennies beneath the water surface was more than enough to occupy my toddler senses.
But something seemed...off. It had been a very long time ago, but I could've sworn that my mom hadn't let me get away with this. From what I remember, I had barely climbed into the fountain before she snatched me up and forced me back into my clothes. Needless to say, we'd gone home early.
Come to think of it, where was she? Was I just not remembering things right?
"Nah, you're remembering it right," said a familiar voice on the brim of the fountain. The fairy had poofed back into existence, apparently deeply involved in the process of filing his nails.
"Why's it different?" I asked, taken aback by how small and emasculated my voice was.
He didn't bother to look up. "Well, it'd be kinda disappointing if we followed the memory -exactly-. It lasted less than a minute, after all. So I've turned this into a 'sandbox' of sorts. You're free to live every toddler's dream: run around with no supervision or consequences. No one will ask where your parents are, or bring you to security. Be as reckless as you want. People might laugh a little, but not much else. By the way, there's a towel over by that bench for when you want to dry off."
I grinned. "You're actually kinda cool."
He shrugged and blew the dust off his nail. "Just fulfilling my end of the bargain."
"Wait a minute. If Mom's not around, who's gonna take care of me?"
The fairy got to work on his other hand. "She's around all right, just not here. She'll be at the Banana Republic when you're ready to find her...y'know, I never really understood those stores. Anyway, she'll have some powder and a fresh diaper ready."
I blush as I imagined her lifting my legs high into the air and powdering me right on the mall's cold, tiled floor. I still wasn't sure if this wish would be a dream come true or a nightmare.
The fairy poofed out of existence before I could say thanks.
I went back to playing in the fountain. It wasn't particularly large, but my tiny form made it seem like a waterpark. There weren't a lot of people around, and the few who saw me didn't pay much attention. I think some people might've giggled a bit, but it was hard to hear over the rushing water.
Speaking of which, I was starting to have a waterworks problem of my own. A small but insistent pressure was building in my tiny bladder. At first I could ignore it, but after a few more minutes I was starting to instinctively do the potty dance. I looked to the bathrooms, and they seemed miles away. Would I even reach the toilets? But then I remembered: I was thinking of this like an adult.
I breathed out and let my toddler mind take over. My back stiffened, and I widened my stance a little. After a small struggle, I let it go. I just peed into the fountain like that famous statue. Just like my toddler self.
A grandma with her two grandkids chuckled at the crazy little streaker in the fountain who'd clearly lost his diaper. I was partly mortified by this, and partly gratified. On one hand I just wanted to be a little kid, but on the other I still had scraps of my adult inhibitions. I felt my hands move to shield my groin as a blush rose on my cheeks. As I got out of the fountain, I tried to cover my rear, too. I couldn't wait to get dressed.
Sure enough, on the bench there was a small fluffy towel, a juicebox, a cookie, and a brand-new pair of red velcro sneakers and white socks. Just that? Puzzled, I looked over to where I'd originally left my clothes. No sign of them.
There was a note next to the towel: it read, "Since you specifically wanted to go back to the infamous Day of the Mall Streaker, I assume you won't want your clothes back for a while. They were getting kinda ratty anyway, so you're welcome. And just like a professional streaker, I left you with these shoes so you can run as fast you want without slipping. Just don't play with the elevator buttons, okay? No one will care, but it's kind of a dick move."
I sighed and did my best to towel off. Not having any body hair made the process a lot faster. I wrapped the towel around my waist and enjoyed the Hi-C and the chocolate chip cookie. The sugar rush flowed through me like magma in a volcano, and I was antsy to get going again. I awkwardly pulled my socks and shoes on and continued my journey through the mall, the towel still preserving my lingering modesty.
It felt like one of those anxiety dreams where you wander around in a public area and realize you forgot your clothes. But in this case, I wasn't completely distressed. I alternated between adult shame and toddler shamelessness as I wandered towards the escalators, sometimes clutching the towel tightly and other times wondering why I didn't just drop it and run free. I stepped onto the escalator, careful to not let the towel get caught between the cracks. As I stepped off at the top, I sighed in relief. Escalators had always scared me--especially at the age of three.
I was starting to regret this whole decision, so I began to make my way to where my Mom was allegedly waiting. I was making good progress, too, until a mall worker came by pushing a cart. A protruding knob on the cart got caught around my towel, and by the time I realized what was happening I was spinning in place as the cart unwrapped my towel. The worker just went on, oblivious and listening to music on his Walkman. He was in a rush, so my toddler legs couldn't keep up, and his music was blocking out my calls for him to stop. In the end, he disappeared into a maintenance room and the door locked shut behind him.
Worse still: the towel had rubbed my groin as it was whipped off. My penis stiffened immediately.
I was naked, and my last covering was permanently gone. I was left with only socks, shoes, and a tiny erection.
Sniffling, I looked at a mirrored storefront. I could truly appreciate how much I'd changed. Every last trace of my adulthood had been sucked away. My wide eyes stared back at me, almost obscured by the shaggy mop of black hair. I could've passed for a little girl if it weren't for the nub poking out from between my legs.
All around me, people thought this was a hilarious scene. A little girl scarcely older than me pointed at my penis and laughed. I thought the red-hot blush in my cheeks would set my hair on fire.
I covered up, but it was too late. They'd already seen everything, and they watched with amusement as I played my role as the streaker and ran off at top speed, my sneakers clacking rhythmically against the hard floor. I didn't even have time to switch my hand and cover my little bottom.
It seemed like I was doomed to humiliation and misery until I found my Mom, but then I started to slow my pace. People were laughing, yes, but it wasn't malicious. After all, I was just a little toddler who didn't know any better. No one was trying to make me feel bad.
Once again, I breathed out and let my younger self take over.
My hands started to drift away from my groin. It felt nice to feel the air flowing across my skin without scratchy, stuffy clothes. I ran inside a FuncoLand--geez, it'd been ages since I'd heard that name--and raced down the aisles, enjoying the classic games blaring on the TV screens. A mom said I had a cute bottom, and her first-grader son called me "Wienerman," but I wasn't too embarrassed.
Curious, I examined one of the lower shelves. The nostalgia hit me like a physical wave; it was so surreal to see all these old titles lined up and advertised as new. The clerk eyed me cautiously, probably afraid I would break something.
Suddenly...