Still In Diapers At 20 Novels & Stories

That night, Jenny couldn't sleep at all. She didn't know why she was so happy after celebrating her birthday party which could be said to be so impromptu. "Being 21 years old is something I didn't expect at all and so far. In fact, I still can't believe that I'm now 21 years old. Thank you, God. You have given all the best for me so far, and I'm starting to feel that way. I'm so grateful for what you've given me," Jenny muttered later.

I ask her with a smile. “He’s wonderful honestly. Our two youngest miracle babies are almost done middle school and our older babies are going off on their own. Georgiy just turned 25 and is in a poly ship just like you. Nadine is 21 and just graduated college. No lovers right now. Isaak is 18 and graduating high school in a few weeks. He is my quiet child who loves men but is very shy. But overall everyone is doing well” she tells me as the volunteers change out again. “I’m happy for you. Did you want to say anything to him before we end him?” I ask her.

The quiet, insecure, shy, pitiful little girl that can’t even stand up for herself. I’m twenty years old and I can’t even get my life together. So what’s the point of living?

"Mia?" "Yes." "Our little girl?" I couldn't help smiling. "Yes, darling." He stared at me in horror. "No." I laughed. "She's an adult, Cole. Someone's bound to want to marry her." "No." "Cole." "No." I laughed harder. "She's twenty-two." "No." "Cole." "Our baby?" "She hasn't been a baby for years." He groaned dramatically and buried his face in the pillow. "No." I was still laughing when he sat back up.

“Do you two want me to get a hospital bed right here? You can make another baby if you’d like.” Winston groaned but was laughing. “One is enough, Ellen. I’m too old for a whole litter.” I elbowed him playfully. “You’re just forty two, Winston. Stop acting like you're an antique furniture.” He grinned. “Sansa, I can’t even remember the last time I changed diapers. I thought I was done with that stage of life. But apparently fate had other funny plans.”

I was the only one here, still in a meeting with investors. I leaned back on my chair, neck getting stiff and painful when I heard soft little shuffles under my desk. Oh! I forgot. Jaz my step daughter was here too. At age twenty two, she was built like every filthy fantasy I had since I was a teen. She was currently on her knees, black skin glistening, thighs spread wide, ass in the air. Although she was grown up, she acted like her brain was made of sand. Always clueless and lost, acting like a dumb bitch.

Seven months had flown by since the twins’ first birthday, bringing the family into a new rhythm. Lucas and Lila were now fast approaching two years old—energetic, curious, and full of distinct little personalities that kept the penthouse lively from dawn until well past bedtime. Alex, now over four and starting school soon, had grown into a miniature version of his father in more ways than just looks.

But they were no longer teenagers. Well, Kobi was the youngest among us, but I assumed that at twenty-two you were a bit more mature. With him you came across granite. Absolutely no. On the contrary, he still seemed to be going through puberty. Or he had a crack in his psyche. Oh, I didn't know anything about him. At least at this point.

I spewed the milk I was drinking and Mama laughed as she handed me the towel I wiped my mouth and nose with the towel. "Mom, I'm still young." I walked to transfer the buttered toast to the bag and the last one was the sweet and sour chicken wings that I just finished cooking. "You are twenty-nine children, and it's hard to get pregnant when you're thirty." Mama raised her eyebrows and I laughed at her, covering the tupperwear that I switched to the chicken wings.

THE TODDLER ~ANYA POV~ If you had told the twenty-year-old version of me—the one shivering in a silk wedding dress—that I would eventually find peace in a drafty attic smelling of lemon bleach and cheap diapers, I would have called you crazy. But here I am. Fifteen months of hiding. Fifteen months of being "Maria." Marcello isn't a squishy newborn anymore. He's fifteen months old, and he's a tiny whirlwind of dark curls and pure, unfiltered chaos.