Diaper Cartoon Novels & Stories

What a pathetic consolation. "Need help?" "No," she snapped without looking who. She knew who. "But you're taking that diaper out the wrong way. You'd both get soiled if you continue like that." He watched Louisa use the tip of her active fingers like pincers to pull the diaper from Bethany's butt downward, without properly lifting her butt to facilitate its removal. "So?" She scrunch her nose, almost gagging, and not wanting to talk over the putrid smell of baby poop and to him.

These men were taking the ddlg lifestyle to a whole other level. "I-I don't need a diaper," I tried to say as stern as I could but the crying didn't really help. "Oh little flower, of course you need a diaper. Those muscles down there won't help you to hold it up to go potty." I didn't even think of that, that stupid syringe was now even worse then before. A couple of more tears were rolling down my face while David grabbed me some clothes, no not some clothes, but baby clothes. “Don’t worry sweetie, you can wear pull-ups if you are more settled in.” Davide said those world as they would comfort me, but they did not.

Tomato sauce and warm grease squirt from beneath the cardboard lids and spatter his shoes, but he never looks down. Carrie, who managed to maintain her composure after running down an old lady with a mini-car, is so stunned by the sight that her mouth flops open. At least she manages to hold onto her own pizzas. Beyond the door, bright studio lights shine off plastic sheeting spread on a concrete floor. Standing on that sheeting is a rainbow of oversized figures dressed in cartoon animal costumes—foxes and turtles and a white unicorn and three more rabbits with oversized heads. None wear pants.

There is a curl to his lip that has me suppressing a grin because I know what comes next. The rip-roaring tooter he’s been working on explodes through the quiet. As the too handsome Dad’s face goes red, and his head knocks back, I let out a deep belly laugh I couldn’t hold in if I wanted. I still go on feeding Mister Man as if the series of other squirting farts accompanied by his bouncing, filling the visible diaper in his pant line, aren’t happening. Well, as much as I can through the increasing laughs, that are bringing tears to my eyes. As much for the relief in the little one’s face as the mortification on Dad’s.

When I turned to check on Kael, I almost choked up a laugh. The baby was clean. That part, I’d give him. But the diaper? It was upside down. I stared. Kael, completely unaware of his mistake, was securing the last tab with a satisfied nod. “Done,” he announced, proud. I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “Kael.” “What?” “The diaper.” “What about it?” “It’s upside down.” Kael looked down at the baby boy, who, blesses his heart, was happily kicking his feet in his poorly fitted diaper. Kael’s brows are knitted together. “No, it’s not.”

I sit up with my back against the bedboard and reach for her. “Hey, I was having my morning princess time. Give her back.” I raise an eyebrow at Leo as he pouts like a pup. Gladly, I don’t want to change the bomb that she has just let go. “Fine, here. Take her.” I chuckle with a big shit-eating grin on my face as I quickly scramble off the bed when he shrieks. Yes, she has filled her diaper and he will have to deal with it. Hahaha. “GAIA! NO, princess Sassa, why? Oh Gods, why is it up your back?” I cover my mouth in the safety of the bathroom to stop myself from laughing.

the man asked, steadying her by the elbow. He looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. Sharp jawline, neatly trimmed beard, short hair swept to the side like he actually took time with it. His button-up shirt was tucked in, sleeves rolled up. Looked like he belonged in a coffee commercial or a teacher recruitment ad. Definitely not a parent. Ava blinked. “I...I think so. That was a banana peel?” They both looked down. Yep. Banana peel. Real-life cartoon.

he says, before laying her down and starting to process of changing her again. “I can do that,” I say, still trying not to laugh. He turns and leans over quickly, pecking my lips with his. “Just get me a new diaper,” he says. I get the diaper and hand it to him. Yeah, it’s very sexy to watch a man taking such good care of your pup. Once she’s changed again and we’ve disposed of the stinky diaper, I tell Dante about my call with the Lunas. “That sounds … awful,” he says.

"For the most part, diapers are all the same until they're mobile. How much does he weigh?" She digs around in her purse. "I have the hospital discharge papers right here!" She pulls them out and reads through them. "Okay. It says he's eleven pounds, thirteen ounces." "I would get size two. He's still a little small for them, but my sister always says she'd rather have them in diapers too big than have a stack they grew out of. Says it's like staring at a pile of money she's not allowed to spend." "Okay. Do you mind if I put my stuff in your cart?" she asks sheepishly. "I promise I'm not asking you to pay for my stuff. I was trying so hard to figure out this formula thing, I forgot to get on