Content warnings for this story (click here for guide):
Leila was towed along by the strong stage-hand, through several corridors, past sniggering groups and finally up to the side of the stage. A little girl of about four, dressed in a duck costume, had just finished a cartwheel, and was curtseying onstage to rapturous applause. She skipped off into the wings, delighted.
From the far side of the stage, Leila saw the Postman waving and blowing her a kiss. Then she heard the announcement:
“Please give a warm welcome to a very special little girl. She’s a little bigger than our usual contestants, but her Daddy tells us she loves dressing up and dancing for him, and it’s been her dream to be a pageant princess. Let’s have a big round of applause for LeeLee!”
Leila barely had time to think before a plinky nursery version of ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ started up on piano and her handler had shoved her out onstage.
The spotlight blinded her at first, then Leila was able to see the adults in the audience chuckling at her ridiculous outfit. Others were gobsmacked, appalled that a grown woman would be dressed like this.
She froze while the music jangled away. Evidently the announcer took pity on her by entreating the audience to “Give little LeeLee a bit of encouragement.”
“Awww,” cooed the audience. “Come on, LeeLee! Show us your dance!”
Leila looked at the Postman in the wings, begging him for clemency. But he only clapped and waved his phone full of photos.
Leila felt herself awkwardly shuffle about in time to the music, her tap shoes clacking on the boards.
“Doesn’t she look ADORABLE, ladies and gentlemen? Such a cute little sugar plum fairy!” called the announcer. “Come on, LeeLee! Do the teapot dance!” He began to sing along: “I’m a little teapot, short and stout…”
Leila flushed as she felt her left arm make a handle and her right crook into a spout. She bobbed up and down on the spot, wishing she could fall through the floor.
“Let’s see a little shimmy-shake, LeeLee!” called the announcer, singing, “Tip me up and pour me out!”
Leila turned around and awkwardly shook her bottom at the audience as though she was a toddler. A couple of people gasped and asked each other, “Oh my God. Is she wearing…?”
Oh God, Leila realised, clapping her hands over her rear. Her nappy was on full display! Stupid short tutu! Stupid Postman!
She stopped dead, mid-shake, paralysed with fear. And then she felt it.
Oh no, she thought. NO. Not here!
Her nerves spasmed as she wet her nappy uncontrollably. The warm padding sagged between her legs, and she could feel the ‘Whoopsy-daisy’ writing growing brighter and brighter.
Oh God, it wouldn’t stop! She kept weeing, stuck in her squat position, praying she wouldn’t hear droplets leaking onto the floor.
“Awwwww,” said the announcer. “Whoopsy-daisy indeed! Looks like our little teapot needed to pour herself out.”
A gale of laughter rose from the audience.
Burning with shame, Leila finally felt the stream stop. Unable to help herself, she turned to the audience and began to sniffle and cry. Looking down at her droopy yellow nappy, she covered her face with her hands.
“Aww, someone’s a bit embarrassed,” said the announcer. “It’s ok, LeeLee. Pageants can be exciting places for little girls. And that’s why we’re sponsored by Squishies nappies, isn’t it, ladies and gentlemen?”
The crowd giggled and awwwed along with him, waving the free samples of Squishies from their goody bags.
“I think that’s enough excitement for one little one, isn’t it?” said the announcer. “I’m going to ask LeeLee’s Daddy to come up and collect her for a cuddle and a change.”
Leila sobbed, causing her make-up to run, snot smeared across her cheek.
The Postman strode onstage with the big pink bag. He took her hand and kissed her head, saying, “Well done, Princess! My little LeeLee did such a pretty dance and such a big tinkle in her Huggies!”
The crowd giggled and awwed as the sniffling girl was led offstage, waddling in her thick wet nappies.
Leila hardly fought as the Postman laid out a changing mat in a corner of the dressing room, laid her down and plopped a blue dummy in her mouth.
“Hey everybody! WeeWee LeeLee still needs dummies and nappies!” called the little girl who had come offstage before her.
“She does,” agreed the Postman. “She’s a big girl but still such a baby.”
Leila cried harder as the Postman untaped her nappy and rolled it up.
“Now,” said the Postman. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Let Daddy clean your botty, LeeLee.”
He scooped up her legs and wiped her thoroughly as the other contestants laughed.
“Look! She’s sucking her dummy for real! Like a baby!”
“Oh, LeeLee needs her dummy,” said the Postman. “Otherwise she just starts crying. I think that was why she threw a tantrum onstage. Wahhh, that’s what she sounds like if she doesn’t have her dum-dum.”
He puffed some baby powder onto Leila’s pussy and bottom.
“Girls, could you pass me one of the thick nappies from Leila’s bag?” he asked, and the little girl retrieved the most sickly-sweet Pampers she could find.
“Thank you. Now, let’s get Daddy’s little princess safely padded up in her Disney nappies and ready to have some numnums.”
Leila was still snuffling with shame as he slid the thick nappy under her cheeks, added a booster pad and taped it onto her.
“Hey!” said one of the girls, sniggering. “Maybe she needs these as well!”
She tossed across a pair of plastic pants with ruffles on the bottom and ‘Daddy’s Little Winner’ written across the back.
“What a good idea! We need to make sure she’s not going to have any leaks,” said the Postman. He tugged the elasticated leg holes over Leila’s tap shoes and frilly socks, then rustled the pants up over her nappy, making her look even more babyish.
“Stand up, sweetie!” said the Postman, helping Leila to her feet. “And say thank you to the nice girls for helping with your nappy change.”
“Mnnnn…” groaned Leila in feeble protest.
“Leila, do you need Daddy to smack your naughty bottom?”
“Nnnnn!” Leila shook her head as the others tittered.
“Then what do we say?”
“Fnnkk yrrr.” Leila stared at the ground.
“Let’s try that again,” said the Postman, plucking the dummy from her mouth. “What do we say?”
“Thank you… for helping.”
The Postman delivered a volley of stinging slaps to the back of her thighs.
“Owwww!” Leila squealed, hopping around.
The Postman gestured toward the girls once more and Leila pouted.
“Thank you for helping Daddy change my nappy.”
The girls fell about laughing.
“Now,” said the Postman. “Let’s get you fed and take you home. That’s quite enough excitement for one day.”
He produced a bib, a bottle and a jar of baby food, to yet more laughter.
“Now,” he said, “who wants to help me?”
A dozen hands shot up.
Leila screwed her eyes shut and prayed for it to be over. She felt eager hands tie a bib around her neck and looked down to see it read ‘Messy Girl’ in pink building blocks.
“Excuse me?” An assistant dashed up to the Postman. “Message for the guardian of… um… LeeLee?”
She suppressed a giggle at the grown woman sitting there in her bib.
“That’s me,” said the Postman, and he stepped aside for a second to chat to the assistant. After a few seconds, he came back. The girls were poised to feed the big baby, holding plastic spoons full of orange and green mush.
“Well,” said the Postman. “A bit of exciting news, LeeLee! Someone very special wants to meet you!”
“Whuhhhh?” Leila drawled, a bad feeling in her stomach.
“Don’t worry,” said the Postman, “I said you needed your dindins first, so they’ll return in half an hour. Can’t have a hangry LeeLee, can we? OK, big sisters, you can feed her now.”
Leila hardly had time to think before the first spoon was shoved into her mouth.