“Nothing,” the girl replied. She wasn’t even sure it was what she wanted and she definitely wasn’t ready to discuss it yet. Her parents were willing to let her drop the subject and she breathed a sigh of relief. She came hazardously close to embarrassing herself and making what was probably a big mistake.
Megan watched TV for a while and tried to relax. Reality shows had been one of her major vices during her first semester at college, but the proliferation of them made them seem dull and repetitive. She and Kylie discussed taking the hosts of all the shows and sticking them in a remote location.
“Simon Cowell would win,” Kylie affirmed.
“Are you crazy? He’d be the first one they got rid of. Besides, Jeff Probst could kick his ass.”
“People fear Simon. And they need him. As much as we don’t want to admit it, we wouldn’t get by without telling us what we did wrong.”
Thinking back to that conversation, Megan now believed that to be truer than ever. Everyone had been so damn supportive lately that the only critic she had left to face was herself. Without a doubt, she found herself to be toughest of all.
When she at last grew tired, Megan bid her parents goodnight and retreated to her room to put on her diaper. The powder helped significantly with the comfort level and Megan had now adjusted entirely to sleeping with the thick bulk. She was getting used to diapers the way some people get used to braces: you never really like them, but you need them and they become a part of you. It was a part she was coming to accept…for the time being at least.
As she drifted off to a slow, dreamless sleep, the counselor’s words resonated in her mind. There was a civil war in the House of Meg. Past was competing with present and until they learned how to get along, it would be rough going. Megan hoped it wouldn’t last long.