Chapter 6:

I crawled over to the broken clock on my hands and knees.    The skirt of my dress had flipped up, showing my diaper to Mommy as she got to her feet.    It broke.    The clock broke.    What did that mean?    Was the curse broken?    Was everything back to normal?    Or was I stuck like this forever?    Suddenly, uncontrollably, tears started to run down my cheeks and I wailed at the top of my lungs.

There was an order of operations to being a parent, how things had to be handled: for example, when your little girl breaks an expensive wedding gift meant for someone else, but is also crying at the top of her lungs, you pick her up, you soothe here, you tell her its okay even if its not, and only later on - if at all - do you chide her for breaking the expensive gift. And that's what Marjorie did; she soothed, she cooed, she made it okay. She played with Floren's hair and she cuddled her firmly. She had an aisle to walk down after all.

I clung to Mommy's shoulder and buried my face in her hair, crying at the top of my lungs.    I didn't even know why.    Why was I so upset?    What was I crying about?    But it didn't matter.    I just wanted my Mommy.    I heard soft music playing, somewhere far away.    Piano or organs or something.

"Come on, let’s fix your makeup. Mommy will do it.” Despite being about the same size, Marjorie didn't seem to have any issues in carrying Florence - not from the closet and not into the bathroom - like she was weightless. She set her down on the counter, mindful of her dress, and began to clean up her makeup for the little girl who was so obviously in her 20's.

"Are you scared?" she asked me, patting my eyes with paper towel.    I shook my head. "Auntie Melissa is so excited to have you as the flower girl.    And you look so cute, don't you?" I looked past Mommy, at the mirror.    Cute was an understatement.    I looked gorgeous.    Adorable.    My pigtails, my frilly dress, my pouty lips... I was the most adorable three year old in the whole world!    It brought a smile to my face.    Maybe I had nothing to be sad about after all...

"This is a big day for Auntie Melissa, her entire life is changing today and everyone is going to remember it. So you're going to do your best to make it good for her, aren't you?" It took a little effort to tidy her up, but they had a few minutes to spare, to get from the bathroom back to the hall and get Florence into position. It was showtime!

"Tummy ache," I muttered as Mommy flattened my dress. "That's just your nerves, darling." She kissed me on the forehead and I had to giggle.    I loved when she did that!    A little boy with a pillow - a set of rings on top - was waiting by the door.    I was so much taller than him, but I knew the truth deep down.    He was older.    I was just a little girl.    Mommy's little girl.    I was gonna make Mommy proud!

“Good luck,” Marjorie whispered, setting her little one in place with her little basket of flowers, before stepping away to join the bridal party. Florence knew what to do, she'd practiced over and over, and the eyes of the entire wedding were on her, along with cell phone cameras and SLRs. The pipe organ began.

I watched nervously as Mommy linked arms with a man and walked down the aisle.    She was so pretty.    When I grew up, I wanted to be as pretty as Mommy!    Then the boy with the pillow followed, carefully balancing the rings.    I stood at the doorway and my tummy grumbled again.    Just my nerves, I remembered.    And then it was my turn.    I took a step forward and threw a handful of flowers into the air.    They fluttered around and fell gracefully onto the floor.    Everyone smiled at me.    They were so happy!    So I smiled back, like good girls do.

But only a few steps later, I felt the seat of my diaper puff out and a soft toot escaped me.    The noise startled me, but I didn't understand.    A few more steps, and my tummy felt worse.    Kinda sicky.    Maybe it wasn't my nerves... then, halfway down the aisle, littered with flowers, I realized all at once what I needed to do.

Without hesitation, without even thinking about it, I bent my knees and squatted in the center of the room.    I closed my eyes tight and pushed, grunting as the mess filled the seat of my diaper.    It bulged out under my dress as I strained, as the padding between my legs grew warm and wet.    The diaper discolored, on full display.    But it was all over in thirty seconds and I felt so much better.    I smiled happily at Mommy in the front of the room.

The room was awash with whispers and giggles, awws and oohs and 'oh look at her, she’s so darling', accompanied by many photos and videos of the flower girl who'd stopped halfway down the aisle to push a messy load into her diaper. But there was no shame, no disgust, no negativity; she was a little girl and this was what little girls did sometimes: they had accidents. The earnest nature in which Florence had conducted herself was charming to everybody in the hall, and it would certainly be the talking point of Auntie Melissa's wedding!

I waddled the rest of the way down the aisle, my thighs forced apart by the very full diaper around my hips.    I threw the final handful of flowers close to the groom and took a seat beside the ring boy in the front row.    I sat down in the warm mess with a bright smile and the boy beside me scooted away.    I heard him whisper to the man beside him: ‘she’s so stinky!’, but the organ played a new song and the wedding went on like normal.

Marjorie had never wanted to get married; she could be a single Mom as long as she had been, and was doing great at it. But as she looked at her daughter in her pretty dress, distended by her sagging diaper, and at her best friend Melissa on her happy day, it was easy to get lost in the moment.    Maybe one day she'd get married too, and Marjorie hoped her wedding day would be even half as memorable!