(This story is technically a follow up to “Sturdy Stinkers: Bigger Number Twos at Age Two” and “Sturdy Stinkers: Baby’s First Big Stinky.” Although this can function as a standalone story, no harm in checking those previous works out first.)
The commercial quickly illuminates pitch black screens, but opening scenes with mother and son don’t shine a wholesome light while the black-furred boy in a big diaper proves he doesn’t need to make bigger number twos to show the shadows cast by second birthdays since passed.
“NO NAP! NO NAP! NO NAP!”
Although having known how to walk for well over a year, three months after turning two has he finally learned to put his foot down. Perceiving his crib as a prison preventing further play during the day, believing Mommy’s making him do time for crimes never committed, no doubt the diaper-clad kid knows there’s no reason not to use the notable “no” known for such noteworthy negative power. However, even those who’d be willing to side with the baby skunk are bound to believe scenes of him making a scene are nothing but bothersome.
“NO NAP! NO NAP! NO NAP!”
The stomping that just…won’t…stop, so obnoxious in its obstinateness, so constant that it could crush anyone’s composure, and the shouting too shrill and screechy for cuteness to compensate must suffice as song, but, really, who can blame the background musicians for bailing out during these awful outbursts?
“NO NAP! NO NAP! NO NAP!”
Oh geez….and just like the audience stuck spectating the toddler’s intolerable tantrum, bless everyone’s ears, the mother skunk has no sort of escape from her bundle of bushy-tailed terror, from her little living nightmare spawned from once simple segues to sleep.
“NO NAP! NO NAP! NO NAP! NO NAP! NO NAP! NO NAP!”
Amidst the audience wanting no more of this meltdown, amidst angrier and brattier babies only a mother could love, although her comparatively composed face shows otherwise, deep down she’d be lying to her own face if she insisted that she didn’t feel like throwing her own temper tantrum over her kid causing so much unrest over requests to rest, that while she wants to respect her son’s recently acquired agency, neither can she deny that a boisterous boy with doubly boisterous bowels now being beyond boisterous is making her go mad, all while the toddler’s ear-splitting screams make her so spilt on whether to soothe or punish this pint-sized pandemonium in pampers.
The skunk….finally…shuts the HECK up about shut-eye, finally stops yapping his trap about not wanting naps. But, before any spectator can even sigh with relief, scenic shifts to the supermarket show calamitous conundrums of cranky kids aren’t even close to being put to bed.
(I don’t get paid enough to narrate this sh*t…)
“I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE!”
The kid is now clothed in blue shirts and shoes, but he’s no less naked in his obnoxiousness while disputes over sleep and sweet dreams tag out for treat-induced tantrums that are anything but a treat. As though the sounds of still incessant stomping don’t already drive several to near incomprehensible insanity, and props to those with the patience of parents who are still watching this program, the banging of clenched fists on tiled ground makes for massively cruder cacophonies while infuriating hissy fits on the floor make the store’s third aisle by far the most reviled.
“I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE!”
Oh…but how silly to speak in superlatives when things are only getting worse by the second. Screams already so annoyingly shrill and screechy, shouts already such aggravated assault on all auditory nerves only get an obnoxious octave higher thanks to his uncouthly unrestrained impulse towards that hardly forgivable folly of craving junk food, and neither does the presence of both parents put an end to what many will deem the most irritating of errand runs. There is no escape for either caregiver…
“I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE!”
No calls for cleanup on aisle three can wash this problem away, no matter how much this bushy-tailed brat has stained the experience for all shoppers and spectators. With groceries still needing to be gathered, not even cutting the whole checkout line can end this predicament, no matter how much both adults desire to check out of this ordeal.
“I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE!”
Showing unadulterated disappointment towards her son for the first time in her life, certainly not gonna sugarcoat it after having to excruciatingly endure both private and public meltdowns, the mother skunk so fond her boy’s first words would rather have his right to speak revoked amidst these miserable moments, and hardly a single soul would scold her for such thoughts when every word wailed in want from this screaming demon in diapers would prompt many to plug their ears.
“I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE! I WANT DA CHOCOWATE!”
The father, his shock superseding such sentiments, can hardly fathom how purely a piece of candy, a chocolate bar not even on par with previously consumed confectioneries, has made his kid so full of cutesy charm on and off the air into such a hedonistic hellspawn, especially when more months should have made him more mentally mature.
“……..”
Fortunately, before some can consider turning off the TV, before some can question why the commercial is still content to keep this kid’s catastrophes on screen, the next shot shifts to silence that has never been so soothing and scenes that have never been so serene in their simplicity. Order is restored, all is at peace, and justice is served now that the skunk who sewed disaster over desserts has gotten his just deserts. His back facing the camera while he stares at gray living room walls, now introduced to the timeout corner, the toddler has ample time to develop distinctions of right and wrong.
“Hnnnnnng!”
BRAAAAAAAAAAAP!!!
But, before the boy can keep thinking about what he’s done, sudden squats show a stinky about to be done while loud preludes to packed pampers prove explosions of the emotional kind aren’t the only ones to expect from two year old skunks. Spectators still skeptical may find it a problem that the bushy-tailed tot who’s been pushy all program is doing pushies, and those seeing things more cynically may insist his motives are much more diabolical than simply doing what needs to be done in his diaper. Perhaps, they predict, the boy’s still not budged from his naughty ways and is about to brattily make big and smelly boom booms to really put the “noxious” in obnoxious. Or, eager to punish his parents with the poopiest form of payback, some may say that the skunk is squatting so spite makes filling his diaper all the fouler for them, that because they didn’t let him have the chocolate, he’s gonna make “chocolate” that gives Mommy and Daddy their just deserts with diapers fudged to the fullest. However, as the welcomed arrival of a certain sweet voice will soon suggest, all are free to drop all their pretenses of the little boy about to drop some loads.
“We know the terrible twos are hard times for toddler and parent alike. We know it’s hard to see your little bundle of joy be anything but.” says the narrator with consummate compassion complimented by the presence of soothing xylophone sounds. “But, with Sturdy Stinkers, not all of the twos are terrible.”
“Mmmmmph!”
PFFFFFT!…SLUUUMP!
With another grunt, the boy who got himself in big trouble dumps a big solid into his diaper, causing it to swiftly sag down to his knees. But, with pleasing music persisting despite the poo poo he pushed in his pants, just like the many messes little skunks are slated to make, toddlers are still bundles of joy through tantrums and mistakes.
“Grrrrrrrrmmmmph!”
FRRRRRT!! PBLOOOOORMPH!!!…SLUUUUUUMP!!!
Showing what else is to come for caretakers of such kids at two and a quarter, the tyke in timeout lets a lot more out as many poopies pile into his pampers and make them further slump with lots of lumps. With no blowouts from bigger messes being reason for temper tantrums, just like those Sturdy Stinkers staying by his side no matter what, so too will Mommy and Daddy be by his side no matter what, even if thoroughly dumped diapers aren’t all that’s gonna get grounded in the future.
“Nnngh!”
SPLOOOOOORTCH!!!
“Phew…”
And then, emphasizing the speaker’s silver lining are the brown stains of a diaper still intact as the toddler releases the mushier remainder of their mess, putting both past and present tensions aside with a soothing sigh of relief.
Waddle….waddle…waddle
Soon turning around to face the camera, his satisfied smile unseen until now shows he’s not only finished filling his diaper, but that even before he went number two, he had finished thinking about why he was put in timeout. Seconds later does the mother skunk make her return to see not only that her son needs a change, but also to see if her son has changed, something he’s quick to prove with polite and well placed words.
“I sowwy.”
Such statements are shown to be more than enough for the skunk with more room to grow and much more room in that diaper as he’s lovingly lifted off the ground and kissed on the cheek, letting scenes with mother and son finally shine a wholesome even with super saggy and stinky diapers in sight. The commercial now at its closing scene, problems past and present, public and private, pouty and poopy, are all put to rest. Faces once showing a flurry of strong feelings from the whole family are all softened by sweet smiles while mom and dad get well deserved time to decompress on the couch and the little skunk with many more lessons to learn receives the combined comforts of thickly padded rumps and the laps of loving parents.
“Sturdy Stinkers. The diaper that’s #1 for #2’s.” says the speaker as the brand and slogan appear on the top and bottom of the screen.
“Mmmmmph…”
But, although such slogans now have meanings beyond messing, scrunched faces swiftly show its original meaning was never out of mind.
PBLAAAAAART!!!
The skunk already so soothed and relaxed from sitting down then decides to take another load off as stinky send offs send more comfort his way with waves of release’s relief and comfier seats provided by packed pampers. Knowing that their son won’t soil his clean slate after loading his diaper on their laps, knowing that neither timeouts nor number twos mean their two year old is terrible, the parents mirror the messy tyke’s widened smile and provide the program’s final seconds with optimism pure and bright before it fades to black.
End
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