To Marshall’s relief, the door opened, revealing Christine. She wrinkled her nose.
“I can tell without you saying a word that you did need to make boom-boom.”
“Yeth,” Marshall mumbled, humiliated. Christine sighed heavily. She picked him up and carried him over to the changing table. “Thowwy.”
“You should be,” Christine scolded. She removed Marshall’s clothes and opened his diaper. “You really needed to go!”
“Yeth.”
“Why did you lie?” Christine asked pointedly.
“I wath embawathed.”
“Embarrassed?” Christine removed Marshall’s dirty diaper and began to wipe him down. Marshall shivered from the coldness of the wipes. “I’d imagine using the potty in front of someone is less embarrassing than getting a completely full diaper changed is.”
“Yeth,” Marshall squeaked. Christine lifted his butt and slid a fresh diaper underneath. “Fank you.”
“Don’t thank me just yet,” Christine said. She redressed Marshall. “After this whole thing, I’m more sure than ever that you can’t be trusted to do anything.”
“What?!” Marshall yelped.
“A grown-up would know that it’s better to use the toilet when asked, rather than roll the dice. The only grown-up thing you did was ask for me to change your diaper.” Christine frowned at Marshall. “A little boy who poops and pees his diapies because he thinks he has more control than he does can’t be trusted to be on his own.”
“What do you mean?” Marshall asked. Christine carried him over to the crib and placed him inside. “Hey!”
“I mean that I’ll be supervising you overnight,” Christine said shortly. She handed Marshall a stuffed animal. “Go to sleep.”
“But-”
“Does baby want his paci?” Christine cooed. “My sons needed one to sleep.” She pulled out a pacifier from somewhere and popped it into Marshall’s mouth. Marshall sucked on it instinctively. The repetitive motion was soothing, and before he knew it, Marshall had drifted off.
When Marshall awoke the next morning, in the nearby rocking chair he saw…