Laura moves around the daycare. She can’t say she’s walking. Her coordination is poor and her diaper thick, so she toddles like a child her age would. She toddles around, looking for any way to get out of this daycare. But she can’t find anything. All the doors and windows are locked. The locks that don’t require keys to open are latches out of her tiny reach. Maybe if she had remained a four-year-old she could have reached the latch locks. As a two-year-old, however, she has no luck.
Laura returns to the spot where she slept, trying to think of her next move. Of all the places to be stuck, this is probably the best, to be honest. She has everything she needs, from diapers and clothes to food and drink to even furniture for her current size. She’ll just wait out the weekend. When workers come in on Monday, she can sneak out then.
Satisfied by her current plan, Laura decides to enjoy herself. There’s nothing else she can do, after all. The world is her oyster. Even if she’s currently in a diaper. Laura looks around the daycare, trying to decide how to best start her accidental vacation.