“That’s so typical of this little sissy Baby,” Mandy whined. “He, I mean, ‘she’ is a little liar. How can you even try to deny what a little pants-wetter you are?” she asked Kim indignantly. “I guess we really need to find some plastic pants for Baby,” she counseled Heather.
“That’s for sure,” she concurred. “We can’t let him drip all over upstairs and I don’t want him getting my clothes and stuff all wet. In the meantime, I’d better find something to clean up this puddle.”
Heather rested the camera on the card table and with the exasperated sigh of one whose work is never done, began digging through the laundry area in search of cleaning supplies. Mandy sat the soft drinks on the table, while Heather handed her a bucket and mop fetched from behind the dryer.