Now in a much worse mood, Kurt lied on the rug and scribbled a picture of a Disney Princess. He didn't know what the point of trying to impress the pretty man was. He was here for girls, even annoying ones like Rachel. He needed to face the facts. No daddy would ever want a little boy when there are plenty of cute baby girls to pick from. These thoughts made tears come to his eyes and before he knew it, he was crying again.
"Oh, baby, what's the matter?" Jenna cooed.
"Uppyyyy! Uppyyyy!" Kurt sobbed, making grabby hands and holding his arms up.
Jenna obliged, carrying Kurt over to one of the rocking recliners and settling him in her lap. "Just relax, baby." She cooed, slipping Kurt's much-needed pacifier into his mouth and rubbing his back. Kurt slowly started to calm down, his bawls reduced to hitched breathing. "There's my sweet little prince." She cooed.
She kept him rocking for a long time. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Finally, after what seemed like centuries, she scooped him up again and carried him back over to the carpet. It was circle time.
Circle time had always been Kurt's favorite part of the morning. His extraordinarily high singing voice always left everyone amazed. There had been time when everyone else had stopped singing, just to listen to his voice. Not to brag or anything.
"Are you ready?" Miss Jenna smiled. "The itsy bits spider went up the water spout…"
Kurt sang to his heart's content, and he could feel his spirits lift as he completely destroyed Rachel in not only the itsy bitsy spider, but Mary had a little lamb, and Twinkle twinkle little star as well. It ended all to soon in his opinion and suddenly, he was being picked up and carried to his first class of the day: art.
Kurt had art class next with fourteen other kids. Art class often meant a variety of different "age appropriate" activities: finger painting, coloring, Play-Doh, necklace making, and macaroni pictures. They weren't allowed to use scissors, though, so the supervisors usually did the cutting when necessary. The art room had small round tables, about six of them, with three chairs to each. There were sixteen boys and girls in Kurt's art class, including him. He sat alone.
It's not that nobody wanted to sit with him; it's just that they weren't good enough. Call him snobby, but he didn't feel like engaging with someone with mismatched socks for more than a minute or two.
Sticking his binky into his mouth, Kurt stared at the blank sheet of paper in fron of him and contemplated what to paint. He thought of painting his stuffed kitty, or Miss Jenna, maybe make another "ugly dummy Rachel" portrait, but he wasn't really in the mood for a timeout today. Then he thought of the beautiful man in the dining hall, and then when he saw him again in the playroom. Getting a good picture in his head, Kurt dipped his fingers into the black paint. He dabbed and twirled his fingers around the paper, creating a rough shape of a head. Once his hair was done, Kurt wiped his fingers off with the wet towel set out for him and set to work painting the man's lips with red, eyes with gray, and his skin with yellow; you know, since there wasn't any skin-color paint. He used blue for the man's coat and red for his pants. Slowly, the crude image came to life and Kurt could not stop thinking about the beautiful man in the dining hall. He though about what Rachel had said. What if he was looking for a little girl? What if the beautiful man was just being polite? He stared intently at the drying picture for a few moments before dipping his finger in red paint and putting a K at the top of the picture.
"Is that me?" A surprised, but gentle voice asked.
Kurt jumped and let out a startled squeak when he realized that the beautiful man was sitting in front of him. Suddenly, he forgot how to speak.
"The painting. Is it of me?" The man repeated.
Hazel eyes met cerulean and some mystic force made Kurt's head nod up and down.
The man gently turned the picture to face him and examined it, a smile growing across his face. "I like it. You're a very good artist, Kurt."
Kurt stared at him in awe and wonder, much to the amusement of the man.
"I heard you sing this morning. You have a beautiful voice." He grinned.
A million thoughts rushed through Kurt's mind as he searched for something to say. "I didn't make messies!" Kurt finally blurted out quickly. "Rachel lied 'cause she's icky and dumb!"
The man stared at Kurt in silence for a few moments before starting to laugh. Not chuckling, outright loud laughing. When he finally got control of himself, he wiped away a tear. "I like to sing too." He said, changing the subject, much to Kurt's immense relief.
The younger boy blushed shyly. "I wanna know your name." He mumbled.
The man smiled that charming smile that made Kurt want to melt out of his chair like chocolate stuck in the pocket of some overalls on a summer day and forgotten about.
The man seemed to be contemplating it for a moment before resting his elbows on the table. Kurt noticed for the first time how out of place the man looked in the art room. He was the only person not wearing all white, or without a diaper bulge beneath his pants.
"Well….if you want…" the man drawled, "it could be Daddy."
Kurt's jaw dropped, making the man grin when his pacifier fell out of his mouth and into his lap. "B-but, I'm a boy."
"The man shrugged. "So am I."
Kurt blushed. "But I like boys." He mumbled, sticking his pacifier back into his mouth and casting his eyes down towards his lap.
The man's grin widened. "So do I."
Kurt registered his words before breaking out into a bashful smile and giggling shyly.
"Kurt? Would you like to come home with me and be my baby?" The man asked.
This was it. The moment he had been waiting for his entire life. The very reason he was here. This beautiful man wanted him. Not Rachel, him.
Grinning like an idiot, Kurt nodded.
The man smiled. "Good." He stood up and nodded to the head daddy, who was standing in the doorway with a proud smile on his face.
"I'll get the paperwork." He told the man before disappearing down the hall.
This was it. Kurt knew exactly what to do. Sucking on his pacifier, he stretched his hands out. "Uppy!"
Now, in every school, there are commands and phrases to be learned. Of course for pets, there's the simple yet traditional "sit" and "stay." Slaves must master commands like "strip" or "clean." (Mind the pun) However, vocabulary is extremely important in a Parent/baby relationship. It is a language all on its own that babies must learn to speak and parents must learn to understand. There are obvious words like "uppy," "binky," "booboo," and such, but there are also things like "baba" meaning bottle, not to be confused with "buh-bah" which means book. By forcing the babies to speak only in this premature form of English, babies become more dependent on their mommy/daddy. They can only communicate with non-Infantilism people through their parent. Obviously, babies can still speak perfect English, but most babies prefer to use baby talk most of the time anyway.
The man smiled down at Kurt and picked him up, resting the light boy on his hip with a hand under his padded bottom. "What do you say we pack your stuff up?" He asked with a warm voice that seemed to caress Kurt's mind in the world's softest baby blanky. "Hmm?"
Kurt nodded. As he was carried into the hall, he noticed Rachel being taken to the changing room.
"Let's get that messy diaper off, Rachey." The nurse was cooing.
Rachel looked up and her jaw dropped when she saw Kurt giving her a smug smirk from his comfortable spot in the man's arms. Just to rub it in her face a little, he nuzzled his face into the man's neck and received a kiss on the top of his head for his efforts. He waved goodbye to her and disappeared around the corner in triumph.
His nurses were waiting for him in the nursery.
"So you're the lucky Daddy who snatched up our Kurtie-Pie, huh?" One asked.
The man chuckled. "Yes, m'am."
"I can't say I don't envy you. He's a sweetheart." She sighed, making Kurt blush at the praise.
"He's the only one who insisted on picking his own baby clothes from the catalog." The other nurse added. "Some advice: don't even think you can sneak a fashion faux-pas past Kurtie. Especially a pacifier that doesn't match his outfit. He won't take it."
The man smiled at Kurt. "A little fashionista, huh?" He cooed, tickling Kurt's tummy. The boy let out a giggle that brought smiles to everyone's faces.
"We'll miss you, sweetheart." The nurse sighed. "Take good care of him."
"Will do." The man smiled.
Kurt whined in his arms.
"What is it, baby?" He asked.
"Nay-mah!" Kurt insisted.
"Ah, okay. I'll tell you my name." He grinned. Leaning close, he whispered into Kurt's ear: "Blaine."