My father’s funeral hit me pretty hard. For the next week I did nothing but sit around in my room, or the laundry room, and cry. There were so many memories of him. I knew Angela was starting to get worried about me. The only time I saw her is when she changed me or when she brought me a small portion of food. I wasn’t eating very much. But I had to eat something, just to keep me going. I was wearing diapers 24/7 and I had it changed about once around dinner time, and when I wake up. Today I woke up and I was wet again, figures. I put on some slippers and went downstairs in just my tank top and sagging diaper.

“Morning cutie.” Angela said in her usual morning cheeriness.

“Mdhnfem.” I mumbled back.

“So, do you want cereal or eggs?” She asked me

I didn’t reply.

“Come on sweetie. I can’t help you if all you do is hide and you don’t talk to me. Please baby, just say something, tell me you need a change, or you want some ice-cream, anything.” Angela said desperately, for about the tenth time this week.

For some reason I just felt the sadness in her eyes, her’s probably just as great as mine. She has me, the little girl she always wanted, but I’m ruining it by not talking. Sure, my daddy died, and I will always miss him, forever, but it is time to move on.

“Um Angela?” I asked her in a very soft voice.

“Yes?” She said with a hint of excitement.

“I miss my d-dad-daddyyyyyyy” I wailed.

“Oh Lacey I know. It’s okay, I will always be here for you!” She said to me, as she started crying too.

I hugged her really close, and she picked me up and sat on the couch with me. This was the best cry I had yet, becuase I had someone to cry with. After about an hour I was my cold diaper was starting to get uncomfortable.

“Can you change me please?” I asked her, looking at her with my puffy red eyes. I didn’t notice at the time but I had my thumb in my mouth.

“Okay, stay here I will be right back.” She anwsered me.

She went to the bathroom and emerged with a diaper, wipes, baby oil and some baby-powder. I lay down and she procedded to take my diaper off and change me. When she was done I sat up and she wrapped her arm around me.

“Thanks… mommy.” I said to her, then putting my thumb into my mouth.

“Anytime darling.” She said, getting teary again. “How about some eggs?”

“Okay.” I anwsered.

Angela got up and I head her crack 2 eggs and put them in the frying pan. About twenty minutes later she came back out, picked me up and carried me to the kitchen. I was put down and I went to sit in the chair. I dragged myself closer to her chair and leaned on her, staring at my eggs.

“Come on Lacey, you got to eat.” She said.

“Um, can you, well, I mea–, uhh… I want yo—-.” I stuttered, trying to get my words out.

She picked up the fork and procedded to feed me. Scoop by scoop, all the scrambled eggs made it i