The Great Diaper Heist
Sophie Marie
Fee, fi, fo, fum! This brat’s rebellion has just begun!
He runs my life with scheduled diaper checks and enforced nap times. So I hid all the diapers. In the oven. The freezer. Everywhere.
He didn't get mad. He got creative.
Now the game is on, and I've got a new prank involving permanent marker. My weapons are bratty silence and clever defiance. His are calm dominance and relentless care. I poke the bear, craving the storm of his attention. He tames the cub, delivering it with a firm hand and a softer heart.
It’s the hottest, most frustrating game we’ve ever played—and the only one where we both win by me losing.
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