Before heading out, Megan grabbed a banana and a glass of juice. Her mother had neglected to get her a bottle. In time, Megan thought. In time.
In the privacy of her backyard under the midday sun, Megan found herself lost in the throes of her own imagination. Her diapers did an ample job of cushioning her butt from the pointy grass and she was able to make herself comfortable. She imagined that before her was a golden plate on which lay several eggs. These, however, were no ordinary eggs. One was laid by a golden goose and would make all her dreams come true. Another was the egg of a vulture and could mean death. She imagined that her friends were around her, encouraging her to make her pick….
It had been years since she thought of, let alone played, the Egg Game. That was odd, considering when she was younger, she played it constantly. She played it with her sisters. She played it with her friends. She even played it with Shawn Means, who lived down the street from her and could be a real jerk sometimes but was sweet underneath and she might have had a crush on at one point. The Egg Game, which was played with a set of brightly colored plastic eggs, was her escape for many years. Bad day at school? Upset because Alison Dowry didn’t invite her to her birthday party? Didn’t matter; the Egg Game let her be whatever and whoever she wanted…albeit for a couple of minutes at any rate.
Megan took a deep breath and sighed. She looked at her 19-year-old hands and thickly diapered crotch in disbelief. It was an acute form of future shock, as if she expected herself to be only 6 and wearing Minnie Mouse panties.
“Freaky,” she remarked. Even Stephen wouldn’t remember (or wouldn’t want to, as he was often an unwilling participant) the egg game if asked about it. As for Shawn, the last she heard, he had enlisted in the Army.
Refocusing, Megan let herself go once more. This time, Ted’s was among the menagerie of faces by her side. It was impossible, of course, as she had not known him then. But it was her daydream and, of course, he belonged.
“Choose that one,” he encouraged, his easy smile lulling her into making an even easier decision.
Megan was brought back to reality once more. This time, it was her bowels and not her consciousness that stirred her. She rose and began walking back towards the house, only to have her bowels empty about halfway. Megan stopped and fretted. It was very disconcerting to her. After all, she practically never had a messing accident in her life. And yet, ever since putting on a diaper, her body had been cutting loose whenever it damn pleased. Maybe it knew something she didn’t.
“Ewww….gross!” she remarked, and stormed inside to change. Playtime was most definitely over.
