Category: Izzy’s Stories Page 1 of 6

My Public Bathroom Fetish

On October 2, 2021

Okay, I admit it. I am attracted to bathrooms. Specifically pubic bathrooms. This newfound fetish started with the 7-day road trip when it dawned on me that I could no longer fake it anymore. Since 18-months-old when Mommy started potty training me, I always knew the concept of bathrooms and doing my business in toilets.

But knowing did not mean I had to DO IT.

Fast forward 18 months later (now three years old), I am successfully still in diapers. But no way am I going to sit in a wet diaper on the car ride. I can’t even stand a drop of water on my shirt.

After four hours in my car seat, I was ready for the first bathroom stop and announced, “Potty!”. It was exhilarating watching Mommy fumbling on the map looking for the next exit while Daddy screaming, “HOLD IT!” Once we arrived at the gas station, Mommy and I bolted to the restroom.

Although it started as a necessity, it grew into an obsession.

I take every opportunity to check out the public toilets at the parks, restaurants, and gas stations. Even when I didn’t need to go. Of course, the parents never rejected me either. The word “potty” has some sort of magic to it that catches their attention and makes them drop whatever they’re doing to oblige to my command.

I just don’t know what it is about public bathrooms that are so attractive.

Perhaps I like the guessing game when Mommy points at the different placards on the doors, Men or Women. Or because Mommy always proudly cheered me on when I made a big dump; some things just never change. Or perhaps I enjoy the various bathroom designs across the nation, making mental notes to incorporate in my future lavatory. It would be very nice to have a bathroom with built-in sensors for the toilet, soap dispenser, door, sink, lights, and a full-body blow dryer – who needs towels anyways?

One thing I do know for sure – I never want to go into a men’s bathroom again, especially at gas stations where cleanliness is nonexistent.

I did so well refusing to pee, poop or toot in the diaper during the entire road trip that Mommy decided to hide my diapers when we finally arrived at my grandparents’ home. But it didn’t last long because I regressed to my old ways. Why should I stop eating or playing with my toys when I can just “let it go”? You know, following Frozen’s instructions.

Poopie Series: Where Are My Marbles?

By Izzy Tornado

On October 2, 2021

In 03 Years Old, Izzy's Stories

Ugh, my tummy hurts. But I am almost done with the puzzle!

I place the piece with Peppa’s head in the empty spot, completing the set. As a 3-year-old, this was an easy puzzle.

Where’s Mommy?

I start taking steps towards the couch. With every movement, my stomach pain subsides. Plop. Plop. Plop.

Mommy’s pounding footsteps echo from the hallway; she is heading to the living room.

I hope this won’t be as bad as the time I put my Little People figure on the toy potty, but I ended up unconsciously peeing on the playmat. I look down and cringe. Mommy appears in front of me while I pick up the nearest toy.

She stops in her tracks, a confused look on her face. Pointing to the floor, she asks, “Izzy, where did you find chocolate?”

Phew, she thinks it’s chocolate.

I watch closely as her eyes widen in disbelief. She glances at me, then back at the brown Hansel and Gretel pebble trail on the floor. This is bad.

She lets out a loud yelp and uses paper towels to pick up three round feces off the floor. I guess they do look like chocolate truffles.

Mommy grabs me and runs to the bathroom, yelling, “Help!” Who is she calling to? Isn’t Daddy at the grocery store again?

She quickly pulls my shirt off, carefully checking for residue before throwing it in the laundry. Should I warn her?

Then she swiftly pulls my panties down. Too late.

Feces the size of marbles scatter the floor, rolling across the bathroom like they were trying to run away.

Wow, I did poop a lot this time. Potty training is a challenging exercise for Mommy, although I did give her a 7-day break.

“Izzy, don’t move.” Mommy scolds as she picks up the hundreds of pebbles with toilet paper. “I am disappointed in you.”

“I’m d-pointed too,” I mumble the new word.

With a sigh, she hugs me tightly, “Don’t do it again, okay?” she says in a tired voice.

“Okay,” I reply with a big smile when she turns on the shower for my second bath today.

Stop Stealing My Milk

By Izzy Tornado

On August 23, 2021

In 05 Months Old, Izzy's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

I crawl towards the kitchen on all fours. As a 5-month-old, I am not strong enough to walk yet. “Wahh,” a whimper escapes my mouth. I’m hungry. Where’s Mommy? She just left me in the bedroom.

I turn the corner into the kitchen. Mommy is already holding a baby bottle in one hand against her chest and a formula scoop in the other. “I’ll be there soon!” she shouts as if I was far away.
Yay, it will be meal time soon! I wonder how much she will give me this time.
She dips the scoop in the purple container on the table and lifts it back up, full to the brim with formula.

Drool escapes my mouth as I look up from the floor at the kitchen entrance.

Mommy slowly moves the scoop higher, from waist height towards her chest where the bottle opening is. She raises the scoop higher, past the bottle. Why is she doing that? Her mouth opens wide. She plops the contents in her mouth!
She smacks her lips and starts humming.
“Wahh!” I exclaim. How could she!?
Mommy turns towards me, startle. She chuckles and said, “Thanks for sharing your formula, Izzy. Milk is almost ready.”
She proceeds to prepare my milk, dumping three scoops of powder in the baby bottle.
Crying uncontrollably, I cannot forgive her. She shoves the warm bottle of milk in my mouth. My milk is never safe. How do I stop people from stealing my milk!

Where Can I Buy Sleep?

By Izzy Tornado

On August 2, 2021

In 02 Months Old, Izzy's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

Do you know how hard it is to keep up with my reputation as a 2-month-old baby? After birth, I have to learn how to eat, sleep AND poop – all the while looking cute. It is exhausting. Especially since I have to wake up every two hours screaming my lungs out to get a sip of warm milk. What does one have to do to get a drink around here?! Suck a toe? Why can’t they just buy me a bigger stomach so I can drink more and sleep for a full day?

At this stage, due to the multiple interruptions, I only get to sleep 15 hours total.

Don’t even get me started about lack of sleep. A lot of people told Mommy to “cherish this stage because babies grow up fast.” I was astonished. Do these people not like to sleep? I cannot comprehend why parents would trade a full day’s sleep for 20-minute naps every two hours to tend to a baby; of course, it worked well in my favor. Sometimes, these parents even give up sleep to clean the house!

They do know that baby bottles and laundry just clean themselves, right?

I use 10-12 bottles a day and sometimes projectile vomit on the floor. Everything just self-cleans when I wake up without having to lift a pinky. The life of a grown-up is too confusing. Can I go back to sleep now? Or tell me where I can buy more sleep. Please add it to my online shopping cart while I nap. I’ll pick it up in two hours.

My Exclusive Catwalk on the Plane

By Izzy Tornado

On April 27, 2021

In 08 Months Old, Izzy's Stories, Under 1 Year Old

Daycare is my second home, and the airport is my third since we traveled almost every month. Although my first flight was very stressful, traveling is now dull. I mean, after my 30-hour flight to China at 2-months-old, all the other flights this year are just trivial (ex: Denver, Nebraska, New York, various cities in Texas).

Now at 8-months-old and finally able to waddle, I just put on my butterfly leash and let Mommy chase me as I roam around the airport, looking for my buddies.

First, we say “hi” to the nice lady at the counter that gives us the tickets when we check our bags. Then I look for my favorite escalator and ride it a few times. We would wave goodbye to the enormous white spacesuit before getting in the short security line. The security guys at the beeping monitors always smile at us when we flash our IDs. Just a pro-tip – don’t get on the long security line. It is endless. Every time we go on a trip, there are always people on that line. Finally, we would wait in the big auditorium before boarding the plane.

The plane, my friend, is where I shine.

With the rows of seats on both sides decorated with luggage compartments looming overhead, a natural stage emerges. After we take off, my exit strategy from Daddy’s lap is to squirm and wriggle so much that he gives in. Mommy then puts on my favorite shoe, and I practice my smiles before our catwalk down the aisle.

I would patiently stand in the aisle until the passengers sitting in the nearest row stop what they are doing to look at me. After studying each person individually, I would graciously present a slight wave and a bright smile. Then move on to greet the next row of passengers, leaving behind a synonymous “aww.” By the time I reach the end (or beginning) of the plane, I would make my way up again to give them another dose of adrenaline.

People always say, “it’s not the destination that matters; it’s the experience and people you are with.”

I try to make these passengers’ trips as meaningful as possible by entertaining them multiple times on every flight. Be assured that if you are traveling on my plane, the catwalk comes as part of the package with no additional fee, just like the flight attendants. Although the travelers always vary (or perhaps I saw that purple hair dude with a red dress before), you would not believe how many people choose to ride my plane just to see me. I hope these catwalks pay for the airplane tickets.