Ricky carried Doris over to a playpen. There was a piece of paper reading “Baby Jail” taped to the side. Doris sighed, accepting her fate, as Ricky gently placed her in the playpen.
“Now, don’t worry, Doris,” Ricky said. “Even though you’re in Baby Jail, you’ve still got plenty to do. And if you need something from me, just call.”
“I thought I was stuck in here as punishment.”
“Oh, you are. But if you need to use the potty, or need a change, or get hungry or thirsty or tired, call for me and I’ll help you out.” Ricky ruffled Doris’s hair. “Feel free to play with some toys or watch TV.” With that, he walked away.
Doris sat in the playpen, already bored. A few other regressed patrons toddled past the playpen, giving her judgmental looks. Doris felt herself turn red, embarrassed to have landed in Baby Jail. It really was the cherry on top of the shit sundae she was a part of.
Deciding to try to ignore her predicament, Doris turned to the options for entertainment that Ricky had mentioned. Sure enough, there were plenty of toys in the playpen. She picked up a dolly and began to play. When she tired of that, she started watching the flatscreen TV on the wall. It was on some sort of kids’ channel, but somehow, she was entertained by the cartoons.
Eventually, the show changed to one she didn’t like as much, and Doris picked up the last item she could use to distract herself, a picture book. Before she could get a few more pages in, however…