You stare in shock at the large nursery. "Wait, are you sure there aren't any other rooms available?" you ask, trying to get rid of the weird feeling you have. You'd pegged it as either anxiety, or needing to use the bathroom. "Um, can I please use the bathroom?" you ask, looking at Deb. "Sure sweetie. It's right by the corner." Deb says, pointing to the bathroom door, which is open. "Thank you." you say, rushing down the hall. However, Deb's middle child, Danielle, beats you to the bathroom, and closes the door. You bang on the door. "Danielle, I need to use the bathroom. Can you hurry up?" you say, feeling like you're going to explode. "Give me a minute." Danielle says, and you hear the toilet flush. The sink turns on, and the sound of running water is torture. You begin to feel a warm feeling on your shorts. "Oh no." you mutter. When you are done, there is a puddle of urine on the floor, and the front of your shorts are soaked. You begin to cry, and Deb walks over to you. "Ok, honey, why don't we get you a change of clothes." she says, as she steers you to the rom you're staying in. "Ok." you say, as you stand there awkwardly while Deb get you a different outfit. She turns back, and is holding something blue with a zipper. "Is this a hoodie?" you ask. "Unfold it and find out." she says. You take it, your hands trembling. The way she said it just gave you a bad feeling. You unfold the garment, and see that it is a pair of footie pajamas. You look at the them in shock. "Wait, I haven't worn these in seven years. I don't think I'd be comfortable wearing them." you stammer. "Ok, well, if you think you'd be more comfortable wearing this." Deb says, holding up a large onesie. "Um. I guess the f-footies will work. Hehe." you say, chuckling nervously. 'Why does she have all this stuff? And why is it all my size?' you think. As you are about to put on the footies, Deb stops you. "Honey, you do need something to wear underneath. You realize that, right?" she asks. "What am I supposed to wear?" you ask. Deb motions to the changing table. Your eyes widen. "I can't wear diapers. I'm a teenager." you say. Deb gives you a stern look, and you realize that Deb is probably someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. "Fine. I'll wear the stupid thing." you say. "Alright. Hop up." she says, patting the table. You reluctantly hop up. "Lay down." Deb says. You follow the order, unnerved. You know what is going to happen, so you shut your eyes. Deb takes off your shorts and underwear, and now you are only wearing your shirt. You keep your eyes squeezed shut, to embarrassed to open them. Deb wipes you, and uses rash cream and baby powder. She tapes the diaper up. "Ok, sweetie, you can get up now." she says, and you get up. You look in the full body mirror. You look normal, except for the diaper. You pick up the footies, and put them on. "Ok, honey, so about the hospital bed. We were hoping to get something more suitable for the room before you arrived, but it got delayed, so this will have to do for now. Hopefully it will be here by Wednesday." Deb says. "Let me guess, it's a crib?" you ask. "Well, yes. Correct. Good job." Deb says. "Um, can I maybe go downstairs and make lunch?" you ask. "Sure. There's stuff for sandwiches in the fridge." Deb replies, and you two head downstairs. When you get into the kitchen, you see one of Deb's daughters. Who is it?
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