It took a few moments for me to remember how to walk in such infantile undies, my already-wobbly legs only tested further my the degree to which they had been spread apart. Even though Dylan and I were of the age where we would ostensibly be transitioning away from diapers, the Huggies that my mommy had put us in were so thick that you'd think neither of us had even yet attempted to master the potty. That seemed appropriate given that the entire sensory package I was experiencing had me feeling littler than ever. With each uncertain step I could feel the soft bulk shifting between my pudgy thighs; I could hear the crinkling of the multiple layers of padding that so lovingly cuddled my tushie and still-stiff weenie; I even smelled like a nursery thanks to the soothing baby-powder massage I had just received. My head swam in a sort of blissful daze as I came to the realization - one equal parts thrilling and worrying - that it was no longer just about fantasy fulfillment. I was now so young - so adorably helpless and immature - that I needed diapers. The unintentional tinkling that Dylan and I engaged in was confirmation enough of that. What's more, it occurred to me that we must have looked even more immature toddling along in just our Huggies than we did when we ran around naked. What our new outfit - or lack thereof - told the world was that we were too young to even be allowed to play in the buff, that we lacked the control necessary to keep from piddling on the floor like a pair of untrained puppies.
My tiny, insistent erection twitched against its cozy cotton confines. I blushed and let out a little whimper of pleasure, willing myself to not reach into my diaper and play with myself; there was still enough of my adult modesty left to make some acts feel too naughty to conduct. Desperate for distraction, I looked over at Dylan - and was immediately swept up in giggling at how he, as usual, had managed to slip perfectly into his role. The adorable little scamp was bouncing and humming like any other toddler might, grinning from ear to ear and crinkling up a storm with every step. His eyes met mine and I felt my smile stretching to match his, hesitating for only an instant before joining him in his joyous silliness. I'd like to think that, even in a non-magical world, nobody would have mistaken us for anything else but a pair of delighted three-year-olds.
When we reached the car, Dylan and I were securely buckled into two identical car seats and given sippy cups filled with apple juice. The drink was astonishingly crisp and sweet to my immature taste buds, and it was with gusto that I guzzled it down with just as much greediness as my companion. A quiet moment followed in which I, for the first time, considered the changes Dylan must have already implemented in the world. Not only had my mommy so easily accepted his presence, she had also just happened to be in possession of another car seat to deposit his padded bottom into. What role must he have taken in this world to justify such treatment?
"Dill-win?" I peeped, lisping the name with my thick tongue. "What...um...what aw you in dis thandbox? I mean, why doth my mommy tweat you wike you're her son too?"
"Oh," Dylan giggled. "Dat's becawse I am."
The chill that went through me must have showed. Dylan's smile shortened somewhat and he addressed me with a seriousness not at all befitting a near-naked toddler with drops of apple juice glistening on his tummy.
"Hey, ith not weal, wemembah? It's not wike I'm weawwy yoah bwuvah. Weah jus' pwetendin' 'cause it's fun."
I managed a smile and a little nod. As struck as I was by the enormous power Dylan wielded in this world, it had, in fact, been great fun playing with him like a brother; fun that was only intensified by the longing I'd had for an actual brother when I was little the first time.
"I know ith kinda weiwd," he shrugged. "But I pwomise - aw I wan' is fow uth ta haf wotsa fun. Dat's why I gotta suhpwise waitin' for uth when we get home."
My regained childish sensibilities were enchanted by the promise of a surprise, enough to at least drop the topic and spend the rest of the trip in silent, squirming anticipation. When we arrived we were led by the hand up the path to the home of my childhood, which looked down to the last detail exactly as I remembered it. It seemed to amuse Dylan greatly when I informed him of this, though I didn't find out why until mommy opened the front door and ushered us into the living room. The space had been drab and stoic during my first childhood - a study in beige furniture and chunky entertainment centers, its trappings at once dull as dishwater and too dangerous for a little explorer to climb upon. The room Dylan and I toddled into was, by contrast, a toddler's dream.
A pair of big, poofy beanbag chairs had been pushed up against a wall of the babiest blue, the squishy furniture flanking a veritable cornucopia of toys and playthings. It felt to me, in looking upon that explosion of promised fun, that I could reach in with my stubby fingers and pull out any stuffed animal, any action figure, any Duplo block that I could possibly want. Against another wall laid a changing table packed to the brim with diapers every bit as thick and babyish as those currently strapped to our chubby waists; and beside that stood a miniature plastic castle whose steps would no doubt challenge our burgeoning dexterity and whose slide would reward the successful climber with two seconds of exhilaration. It was as I was taking all this in that mommy helped me and Dylan out of our shoes, and I couldn't help but sigh as my tiny feet sank into a thick, plush carpet, so soft and warm that I wanted to crawl upon it as though I were a much younger boy.
"Now you boys play nice." The towering woman smiled as she patted us on our heads. "Mommy'll be in the other room if you need her."
With that, Dylan and I were alone and free to explore the limitless fun that he had provided for us. My toddlerized companion regarded my awe with undisguised amusement for a few moments before stepping in front of me and throwing open his pudgy arms.
"So!" He declared as he trained that big bright smile of his on me. "Whatchu wanna do firtht?"