The Potty Draining Chart

Day 11

Vanessa's hand hovered over the door handle, uncertain how to approach her friend.

Yesterday had been a doozy. Nicole was pretty much a wreck, distraught and sobbing when Vanessa showed up to take her home. And there were still four days on the chart left, four opportunities to take more away. Vanessa had trouble imagining what could be left, Nicole had already fallen so far.

This was all out of her wheelhouse. Vanessa was practically taking on the role of a new mom–giving Nicole rides, helping her with diaper changes, making all the food–and it was hard. She'd make it work, for Nicky, but she had never been the responsible one of the pair until circumstance had forced her to adopt that role.

Today's doodle was simple; Nicole had a bit of drool on her face and a crayon gripped tightly in a fist, laying on her tummy as she worked on a craft project, alphabet blocks floating over her head with no apparent words or meaning. That didn't seem so bad, all things considered.

"Nicole?" Vanessa asked, pushing open the door and coming in to check on her friend. She'd gotten used to the smell of dirty diapers in the morning–thunderclouds had become a staple of her chart, filling up every available slot for both night and day. Whatever force drove this curse, it apparently wanted Nicole in dirty diapers.

Nicole was lying on her back, a stuffie tucked under one arm, still dozing. Her sleep seemed restful, at least–for the past week, she'd been sleeping like a baby.

Crossing to her, Vanessa opened the side of the crib and nudged her friend's arm. "Hey, Nicky, it's time to wake up, OK?"

Nicole rolled over, blinking and yawning. "Dun' wanna, five more minutes?"

"I want to get you changed and cleaned up before I head to work." Vanessa extended her hand. "I've got a short day, but I'll still be gone 'til around lunchtime."

"Okay," Nicole mumbled, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She took Vanessa's hand and wobbled out of the crib, towards the chart.

"So," Vanessa said. "I'd been thinking. There's only a few days left on the chart."

"Uh-huh," Nicole nodded. "What's it showin' today?"

"You're drawing on today's doodle." Vanessa helped Nicole up onto the changing table and selected a fresh diaper. "But...everything it's taken is stuff we can get back. A speech therapist can fix your voice, and–hey, we could get a real potty training chart and you could learn to use the toilet again."

Nicole shuddered. "Toilet's scawy."

"We'll work on that, too," Vanessa continued, untaping the smelly diaper and quickly pulling it away, dropping it into the pail by the table. "But you're still Nicole, you just need a little help getting all your skills back. It'll be hard work, but I know you can do it."

"Wha' about my job?" Nicole asked, squirming at the sensation of baby wipes against her bottom. "Jean was weally mad..."

"Once you're better, I'm sure she'll bring you right back to work," Vanessa promised, sprinkling powder onto her friend's thighs. "It'll all be okay."

Nicole smiled as her new diaper got taped on. "Thanks, V. I betcha once I show I'm a grown up, she'll be weally happy, too."

...

Vanessa returned from work at around one, fast food in tow–she didn't feel like cooking, and wouldn't trust Nicole in the kitchen until her friend had recovered her motor skills enough to hold a knife safely, so it'd been a drive through day.

She'd briefly considered getting Nicole a happy meal, but thought better of it and got her a regular combo instead.

"Nicole, I'm home!" she called, dropping her purse on the couch. "I got lunch!"

Nicole's voice carried enthusiasm and cheer that Vanessa hadn't expected. "Hiya, V! Come see what I made!"

(This would be the coloring,) Vanessa guessed, setting aside lunch for a moment and strolling to the nursery.

Nicole was lying on her tummy, a dozen crayons scattered around her as she drew on a piece of construction paper. She didn't seem aware of the dirty diaper smell floating in the room.

(That'd account for the daytime thunderclouds, then.) Vanessa hesitated. "Nicole, how long have you needed a change?"

"Dunno," Nicole shrugged. "A while."

"You didn't try to get yourself cleaned up?" Vanessa asked, concerned.

"Couldn' get the tapes," Nicole admitted. "But is okay, I got this done!"

Beaming, she held up the paper so that Vanessa could come and see. Uncertain what to expect, V walked across the room, crouching to take the paper.

It was...a cover letter, sort of. Written in crayon, with letters about an inch tall and very squiggly, with many written backwards. The words were littered with misspellings and some were completely illegible, but Vanessa did her best to read it.

"Jean," she read aloud. "I promise I am gonna be a...what's this word here? Egg salad?"

"Excewent," Nicole clarified.

"Excellent grown up worker, very soon. We can be friends again and I'll even use the potty. I just have to learn how to count again. See you soon, Nicole." She sighed. (And this accounts for the alphabet blocks. She's practically illiterate now.)

Beneath the crayon writing was a stick figure drawing, with curly Q lines for hair and a bright yellow sun smiling in the background: Nicole and Jean, holding hands, grinning at each other.

"What do you think?" Nicole asked, excitedly. "Can we show it to Jean?"

"I think..." Vanessa had to ponder for a moment, how to be honest without shattering Nicole's feelings. "First, we should go put this on the fridge–just as soon as we get your diaper changed. Okay?"

Nicole nodded. "Okay! Thanks, V, you're the best grown up ever."