’ I nodded. Erin leaned over the railing of the cot. ‘Does my baby need a clean diaper,’ she said in a high voice. ‘Do you want mommy to...give you a fresh clean diaper. You do don’t you?’ ‘Yes mommy.’ He said. Erin opened up part of the cot and pulled on the tapes of the diaper. The soggy wet diaper she rolled up and threw out and then she got some wet wipes and started to clean him up. I could see she was intentionally rubbing the wet wipe over his cock again and again, and his cock. "Your spelling is atrocious," Mr. Critic would write, in his oh-so-proper way, "and you seem to have no grasp of conventional grammar, without the saving grace of true experiment. The plot is miniscule, the characters the thinnest cardboard, and the ending completely implausible. You can do better."Tammy felt just awful whenever he saw what Mr. Critic had written about his stories. Didn't Mr. Critic realize that having fun was more important than any silly old rules? Fortunately, Tammy's. More

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