Case Study: Pampers

I stumbled upon a public relations agency's case study for a Pampers advertising campaign today and thought you might find it interesting. Imagine being the person who's responsibility it is to spread the word about Pampers. Dream job?

Case Study: Pampers Golden Sleep, China
 
Challenge

In 2007, Procter & Gamble's first brief to Shunya International, Porter Novelli's partner agency in China, was to devise and implement an integrated campaign to build "sleep" into Pampers' brand equity, and to boost sales and market share by educating expectant and new mothers about the benefits of longer uninterrupted sleep to their babies' cognitive development.

Data

Pampers had commissioned independent U.S. and Chinese expert clinical research which showed Pampers' competitive superiority in ensuring longer uninterrupted sleep for babies, called 'golden sleep' in China; these new results were available for use in the campaign. Initial research conducted by the agency into young mothers' online habits showed that the majority of Pampers' target market were regular Web users for information, and liked sharing baby hints and tips with their friends.

Insight

The agency's insights process identified that in the often-bewildering life of new mothers, the most profound moment to think about the development of their child is when they are looking at their sleeping baby. This insight led to the development of the core creative platform-to encourage new mothers to photograph their sleeping babies, and upload the pictures to Pampers' Chinese website.

Approach

The campaign's hook was that the sleeping baby photos would be made into a giant photomontage, and the final compelling attraction was a campaign to break the Guinness World Record for the largest photomontage in the world.

The campaign was planned as a combination of three key elements:

Offline media and experiential activities including mass carnivals and in-store campaigns in China's Tier 1 cities
Online recruitment and viral programs including the launch of a Sleep Tracker, allowing parents to monitor their babies' sleeping patterns.
A professional clinical and medical education and endorsement campaign, including an educational documentary shot and made by the agency in the U.S. and China.
Additional viral activities were added halfway through the program when the World Record target was broken by a German company, leaving the Pampers campaign with a new target-to upload more than 80,000 photos!

Success

200,000 baby photos were collected, smashing the Guinness World Record, with 109,000 being used to create a photomontage covering 660 square meters, unveiled in one of Pampers' key retail partners' stores in Shanghai. As a result of the campaign, Pampers' sales volumes grew by 54 percent compared to the previous year, and the brand's market share returned to growth. The campaign attracted more than 100,000 new members to Pampers' Mums Club, increasing the Club's penetration of China's online mothers from 26 percent to 43 percent. P&G has recognized the campaign as setting new global standards for effective integrated communications, and Porter Novelli's agency partner was recognized as 'most creative interactive agency' in the 2008 Market Forum awards organized by China's Marketing and Sales magazine.

That's Just Wrong...

Stopped in to get a fresh cut and had to take a piss. What if I'd just stopped in for a change? Can you see me sitting in the stylist's chair, a big soaked wet Pamper in my lap? Seems like kind of a shitty rule to me... diaper discrimination?

Thugs in Hugz: Part IX - The End

Beep beep beep beep beep. My phone alarm was going off, and I reached over and picked the Treo up from the nightstand, flipping it off before I realized it wasn't my phone beeping. I rolled to the edge of the bed and looked down at Chris, who looked up at me with a surprised expression on his face. I saw his cell phone sticking out from underneath him; it was obvious that he'd been playing with it and tried to hide it when the beeping began. Ordinarily he'd been in for a swat, but I had to be at work in a few hours, and I'd promised to drive Christopher to a city two hours away for a hook-up with some party line whore - whoops, I mean, his girlfriend.

"Sorry, sir," Chris said sheepishly, and I gave him a stern look. He looked genuinely ashamed, but in the days he'd spent in diapers he'd become pretty good at playing the part, so who knew. I reached down and picked up his phone, switching it off and looking at the time.

"Damn, dude... we're running late..."

Chris immediately volunteered to shower first, and I agreed. He'd been laying in nothing but a diaper on a blow-up mattress on the floor, and he looked cold. He jumped up and whooshed into the bathroom, leaving the sliding door open and jumping directly into the shower. I could see his silhouette through the glass door as he pulled his X-Plus down and off and balled it up. He tossed it over the shower door, landing it in the wastebasket with ease.

I had expected a thump and, surprised when there was none, walked into the bathroom and looked down into the can. The diaper was... dry. I'd fed the kid three baby bottles the night before, one warm milk and two water. He'd been drinking pretty heavily through the evening before, as well, and I hadn't given him any potty trips. I'd fully expected his diaper to be hanging off his ass by morning, and hadn't even thought of it. Had he snuck a trip while I slept??

Sniff, sniff.

I stood up and, just as I did, noticed the unmistakable odor: piss. I turned around and looked into the shower. There is was, plain as day: Chris, ass-end facing me, leaning against the shower with both of his hands above his head - peeing. WTF! It continued for more than thirty seconds before I turned around and walked out.

Chris must have been holding it all night...

Chris's shower lasted a few minutes, and then it was my turn. Chris stepped out, looking around for a towel. I'd removed it from the rack and, as Chris stood drip-drying, I snapped my fingers and pointed to the corner. He quickly walked into it, nose-to-wall, and I undressed and got in the shower, making sure to rinse it throughly before stepping in. A few minutes later I was done, and I stepped out, grabbing a fresh towel from the sink and drying off.

"Oh... you get a towel, sir?" Chris complained. I whirled the towel into a rat tail and gave him a nice whip in the ass, and he jumped, half-turning to face me. "No towel whips, sir!" I chuckled and walked over to him, giving him a pat on the bottom and draping the towel over his shoulders. Chris stood still as I rubbed it on his shoulders, back, and down to his feet. I turned him around and towel dried his chest, tummy, and legs, then flopped the towel over his head, working it into his scalp. A minute or two later he was dry, and it was time to go.

"Time to get dressed," I told him. He turned and began to walk toward his clothes, and I ordered him to stop. He turned to face me. I snapped my fingers and pointed to the floor.

"Crawling, sir?" he asked, seeming annoyed. "I figured since we were all done..."

"Who says we're done?"

"I thought since I was going home and we were getting dressed I'd probably be able to walk."

I shook my head, and Chris obediently dropped to his hands and knees, crawling across the floor toward the corner containing all of his possessions. He grabbed his kicks, socks, and jockeys, sliding along on his bottom toward the sliding glass door and leading up against it. He put his socks on one by one and then picked up his drawers, reaching down toward his feet.

"Hold up," I said. Chris looked up at me; I was standing over him with my hands outstretched. He obediently, if reluctantly, handed me his drawers. I walked into the kitchen, flipped the top of the trash receptacle, and dropped Chris's underpants in.

"Um, sir?"

I turned to Chris and waited.

"Sir... that was my... only pair."

I put my finger to my lips. Shhhhh. I walked into the bedroom and grabbed the diaper bag, pulling a medium Attend and a bottle of baby powder from it. I turned to return to the living room but decided to stop and make the bed. Chris waited patiently, butt naked, while I got everything nice and neat. I picked the diaper and powder back up and walked into the living room, and he began to shake his head.

"Sir... I'm going to chill with a girl. I was thinking... my big kid underwear might... impress her more?"

"It's a two hour trip," I told him. "Lie down."

Chris groaned, but complied. I lifted his feet and dropped the diaper under his rear in one fluid motion. Chris was powdered and diapered within a minute. I walked across to the corner and grabbed his jeans and T, tossing them to him. He got dressed, struggling to keep his jeans over the slipperiness of his diaper, finally cinching his belt another notch.

"Does this make my ass look fat?" Chris deadpanned. I laughed, and he interrupted me. "No, seriously... can you tell I'm wearing it?"

"I can," I began, and Chris interrupted me.

"Sir, you probably have eagle-sharp vision for diapers three miles away. I mean, can normal people tell, do you think?"

"Normal?"

"You know what I mean, sir..."

I told Chris most people probably wouldn't be able to, and he started laughing.

"Sir... just... text me twenty minutes after you drop me off and remind me not to forget to change before I get undressed in front of my girl."

Agreed.

It had snowed overnight, and several feet of big, fluffy snow covered the ground. The sun was shining and everything glistened. The roads were still covered in some places, and black ice was sure to be an issue.

Chris could sense that I was nervous. As we drove he put his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it.

"You're a pretty good driver, sir," he told me. "You've driven me in a snow storm, and in the middle of the night on country roads, and we haven't hit a deer or snowbank yet. Keep it up, sir..."

We'd driven twenty miles to wear one country highway crosses another. As a college student I'd once made an emergency diaper change at this corner; I'd chosen it because it was rural and pitch black. In the years since a gas station, McDonald's, and pizza shop had been put in. We pulled into McDonalds for some coffee - as much for its warm-up value as for the wake-up factor for the long drive ahead.

"I'll take a large coffee with cream and sugar, and a medium with milk and Equal," I told the drive-thru voice. As I pulled around to the window Chris rolled his eyes.

"Only you get a large?"

I laughed and shook my head.

"The large is for you," I told him. "This is a two-hour trip on good roads... probably gonna take us three hours... are you crazy? What do I look like, drinkin' a large coffee with no bathrooms between here and two hours from here?"

"Oh, so... it's okay for me to have to pee - " Chris began. I reached over and patted his crotch, and Chris appeared to suddenly remember that he was still in a diaper. "Sir... I hoooope I don't show up to meet this girl in anything but a dry diaper..."

"Remember how you held it all night long? Before you pissed all over my shower?" I asked. Chris blushed and started to argue, then stopped and nodded meekly. "Good luck," I told him. He rolled his eyes and, as the clerk took my credit card, shouted out that I'd made a mistake.

"We wanted a medium and a small!"

Too late...

The roads were snowy and icy. In some areas they'd already been plowed, but in others they hadn't, and I was forced to drive twenty miles an hour in some places. I'd long since finished my coffee, and Chris his; soon we were both cold, wishing for a second cup.

Chris had become more talkative - almost hyper. I wondered if it was the coffee, the excitement of meeting someone new, or a combination of the two. I listened and Chris told me about much of his life, from the time he wet his pants in fifth grade to his reasons for dropping out of school - and how he wanted to go back.

"I wish I'd known you when I was younger," Chris confided.

"I'd probably be in jail," I joked, and Chris laughed.

"Not for the diapers part, sir," he told me. "Just... being able to do stuff."

More guilt... I was taking Chris away to diaper and spank him, and he was enjoying the road trip experience.

"This summer we'll do shit," I told him.

"Sailing... right?" Chris asked hopefully. I nodded, and he beamed. "I think I'll make a good sailor," he said. "I was gonna join the Navy, but..." he trailed off.

"Felony record?" I guessed.

"Yes, sir."

We were silent for a little while, me driving and Chris contemplating, and occasionally playing with his phone. Chris began mumbling something after a while, and his mumbling soon turned into a sort of song. Within a few minutes I realized he was rapping.

Met this dude on MySpace

Said YO! Come back to my place

I was broke and starving

Took him up on his offer with haste!

My first time at a lake house

Was already half-soused

Dude couldn't even put a damper on it

When he told me to put a Pamper on it

"Are you serious?" I asked him, and he laughed and shushed me.

He told me he got somethin for thugs

He told me he believes in 'Hugs, not drugs'

You think he coulda told me maybe

The Hugs are the ones you put on a baby?

(It sounded better while he was beat boxing it, lol).

To most people I'm such a 'wigger'

Look at me now and go figure

I'm wearing a baby diaper

Only a little bit bigger...

"Your rap career is destined to be on MySpace only," I warned Chris and he laughed, hitting me with a few more bars.

"Bet you never had one of your thugs throw down a rap for you, sir" he told me. I had to laugh; I hadn't...

We were getting closer to our destination, and now it was Chris's turn to be nervous.

"I hope that I don't get set up, sir," he confided. "I've never met this girl. I only talked to her on the internet. When she invited me to spend the weekend..."

"You're staying all weekend?" I interrupted. Chris nodded.

"I just hope that she's not a drunken whore, sir," Chris told me. "I sometimes have a problem when girls wanna talk shit to me. Like... an anger problem." Chris stressed the word anger as though it was hard to believe, like I might be surprised. I almost chuckled, but I could see how serious Chris was.

"Just ask her not to drink," I suggested. Chris rolled his eyes.

"I'm staying at her place, with her family," he told me. "So she can pretty much do... whatever."

This sounded like a pretty poor idea.

"I have to say... I think this might be a mistake," I warned him. "I mean... a whole weekend... are you sure?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders, and then asked something that surprised me.

"If it doesn't go well... can I come back and spend the weekend with you?" He must have seen the look of apprehension on my face because he almost immediately threw in the offer to spend it in diapers. "And besides, sir... might be good practice for this summer. The more we get to know each other now, the better off we'll be this summer... 'cause you know we're gonna be doing some chilling..."

I agreed, tentatively, but assured Chris I thought he'd be fine.

"It'd be funny if she's setting me up, huh, sir?" He asked me. "I mean, if they're just having me come all the way out here so that they can rob me. Take my kicks and my phone and shit..."

"Think they'll take the diaper or let you keep it?" I asked, and Chris laughed.

"Forgot I was wearing that, sir... man, hope they don't leave me standing in the snow in just that... snow plow'll see pasty white skin and a diapered ass and drive right over me!"

We both laughed. Within a few minutes we were waiting in a parking lot, and after a few more Chris's new friend had arrived. She looked gangsta but not too trashy.

"Definitely not the robbing type," I told him. He laughed.

"Hope not, sir..."

The girl got out of the car she was riding in and walked over to mine. Chris rolled down the window and introduced himself. She started to open his door, presumably to help him get his stuff out of the car, but he stopped her.

"And I want you to meet my friend Chris," he told her. "This man could've left my ass on the side of the road with my thumb sticking out, but he didn't. He drove me all the way here... so I could see you..."

Chris's friend was polite, but seemed less than impressed. Chris looked at me and rolled his eyes, the leaned over and, again to my surprise, gave me a hug.

I was driving away about ten minutes later when I heard it.

Beep beep. Beep beep.

I picked up my phone and looked at the screen.

Look in the visor.

I pulled my visor down; nothing. I pulled the passenger seat visor down and a crisp $20 fluttered out.

A few minutes later, another text.

It's for driving me all that way, SIR. But don't forget to fill your tank in case you have to come rescue me!

I texted a thank you back - and the requested reminder.

Don't forget: diaper.

Chris's last text: OMFG thank you thank you thank you!

I drove away wondering if Chris had managed to remain dry...

Chris and I had talked about doing things over the summer, but they never materialized. I'd found a hot gay model who was willing to wear for $20 a pop, and was even toying with the idea of posing for pictures. (He didn't). He lived within walking distance of my house and spent every waking hour on MySpace; any time I wanted to diaper a hottie he was ready to walk down, and willing to stay as long as necessary. I missed Chris's thugginess - and the spankings - but it was so easy to diaper a neighbor, as opposed to driving over an hour to pick up and Pamper a thug...

Still, Chris and I had become friends. He'd rapped about diapers for me. I'd intended to spend some time with him. My grandmother had died about a month after my last session with Chris, and life had gotten kind of crazy. Summer was half-way over before I realized I'd never called him and, once I did, we made some tentative plans, but nothing panned out.

In September 2006 I made the decision to move south. Chris and I hadn't talked for a few months, but in October I put up an AIM status message: MOVING SOUTH, LEAVE MONDAY, WHO'S DOWN FOR SOME CHILLAGE. Chris saw it and replied:

"Me, sir."

Awwww.

I talked to Chris about an overnight session the following weekend. We agreed on a date and time but, when the weekend came around, Chris AIM'd me to cancel. A few days later the same; this time it was my turn to cancel. The following weekend would be my last weekend in New York. Chris found out, and messaged me, begging me to take him up on his Pampers for pay offer. I consented, and arranged to meet him in the Tops parking lot that night...

I was about to drive to my first diaper disaster.

I spent the day on my sailboat. It was my last weekend in New York, and I was starting to feel apprehensive about moving - and especially about leaving my boat. I'd spent my entire life in New York, and was about to embark on something new. I wasn't sure that putting Chris in a diaper was how I wanted to spend one of my last nights in New York.

I called Chris around dinner time and told him I wasn't sure.

Chris begged me to come. He told me he'd been looking forward to it... he needed the money... I'd promised to spend time with him over the summer but never came through... he needed the money...

I relented, and made the thirty-minute drive. I'd spent the previous day packing for the move. My head was pounding by the time I got there, and I wasn't looking forward to the drive back, much less spending the night awake with Chris.

For the first time I wanted to not put someone in a diaper...

Chris was about to help me out.

I sat in the parking lot for twenty minutes. It wasn't like Chris to not be ready and waiting. Save the first time we'd met, when Chris actually was waiting but at the opposite end of the parking lot, he'd always been the one waiting for me.

At the entrance to the grocery store were two city police squad cars. Probably a shoplifter, I thought. I wondered whether it was Chris. I glanced around the parking lot and noticed an unmarked car in the corner by the gas station. Sting operation? Were my days of paying to Pamper about to come to a close?

I tried calling Chris, but his phone was off. Must be why he needed the money... I thought. I waited another five minutes and then, figuring twenty-five minutes was enough time, I turned on the engine and began to drive away.

As I prepared to pull out of the parking lot I saw him: Chris, coming out of the liquor store. His swagger was unmistakable, and I remember thinking he must have been in there the entire thirty minutes because I would have seen him go in...

Chris looked straight at me, and then looked away and began walking in the opposite direction.

Wtf?

I'd driven thirty minutes to meet him, and now he was giving me the cold shoulder. Something was up. He was acting strangely, and I noticed that he seemed totally different: distant and, for some reason, twitchy. I wondered if he'd been like that before but I hadn't noticed.

I drove by him and slowed down. Chris didn't look at me, and kept walking. I shrugged and began to drive away, but he shouted and I slowed down; he then ran up along side me and opened the door, getting in.

Chris sat next to me for about ten seconds as I drove across the parking lot toward the exit. As we pulled into the exit lane he pointed to a parking spot.

"Pull in, pull in, pull in, I can't do this."

Wtf?

I stopped and Chris opened the door, stepping out. He leaned in my window, looking at me blankly, and it looked like he'd been crying.

"I'm sorry, sir. I just can't do it..."

Chris had worn diapers for me on numerous occasions, and he was backing out?

"Are you sure, Chris?" I asked him. "If you can't I understand, I'm just surprised..."

Chris opened the door again and flopped his bottom into the seat next to me.

"It's just that... I mean... I don't want to... but I feel like... I have no choice," he stammered.

Before I could even begin to feel the corresponding guilt for diapering Chris and leaving him scarred for life, he continued:

"Sorry, but I have to."

Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife, clenching it in his fist and holding it in my direction.

"I need the money up front, sir," he told me. "I need it now."

If you've never had a knife pulled on you you're missing out. It really helps clear your mind. Any thoughts you may have had before the moment you realize you're being robbed clear out, and are replaced with new thoughts - usually ones relating to your predicament.

"So you're robbing me?" I asked. The answer should have been obvious; Chris was holding a dagger a few inches from me and demanding money. I asked anyway, because it's what came into my head at the time. "You're seriously robbing me?"

"I didn't want to do it, sir," Chris blubbered. "I tried to walk away, but you made me get in. I wanted you to just drive away without seeing me. I really need this money, sir..."

At the moment a few thoughts were whirring:

• I had more than $1,000 cash in my pocket.
• There were police less than 50 feet from me.
• I was being robbed at knifepoint by a crackhead.

"I can't believe you're robbing me, Chris."

I was truly hurt. And, at that point, I noticed that Chris was crying. Crying just a little but, still, crying nonetheless.

"Sir, consider this a loan request," he told me, still holding his knife up to me. "I need this money tonight. But if you give it to me, I will owe you. I'll wear a diaper for you anytime you want, and you can spank me, too... please, sir."

The irony of someone holding a knife to me while submissively calling me sir was somewhat humorous, although I'm not sure if I thought so at the time. I was thinking of the huge amount of money I had, in 100s, in my pocket. I considered hitting the car's 'panic' button and summoning the police; this, however, could end my run of diapering thugs, at least in this city. I decided against it.

"You could have asked me for a loan, Chris," I told him. "I considered you a friend. I would have loaned you that."

"Sir," Chris interrupted, "I still consider you a friend. I always will. It's just..."

"Friends don't rob friends at knifepoint," I told him. I was getting angry. Chris's eyes were red with tears now, and I could see that something was wrong with him. I wished I'd followed my instincts and just left when I'd wanted to. Still, something made me worry about Chris; what if something serious was going on.

"See that Impala?" I asked Chris, pointing to the unmarked. Chris nodded. "That's a plainclothed police officer. You're sitting in my car, in full view of security cameras, holding a knife. That's prison time, Chris. Put your knife away, now."

Chris slowly replaced his knife in his holster. He looked embarrassed now, and I was fairly certain that he was thinking of how much easier asking for a loan might have been...

"Get out of the car," I ordered. Chris looked skeptical.

"Sir... I really, really need this money. Please, sir," he begged. "I'll come back tomorrow and wear diapers all day. Or anytime you want. Please, just let me hold it tonight..."

"Get out and stand by the window," I repeated. Chris looked apprehensive, but obeyed. He made sure that he held the door tightly and then, as soon as it was closed, leaned into the window. That was fine; there was no way in fucking hell I was about to let him sit next to me with a knife while I pulled out $1k+. No fucking way...

I pulled out my wallet and opened it. Chris's eyes popped at the cash. He said nothing, and I pulled a $100 out and replaced my wallet. I leaned toward him, extending it out. His eyes furtively darted to the police cars before he quickly took it, crumpling and putting it into his pocket.

"You have no idea how much this means, sir," he told me. "When would you like me to make it up to you.... tonight? Tomorrow?"

"I'll let you know," I told him. Chris shoved the hundred down into his pocket and, without another word, began shuffling across the parking lot. He looked ashamed. I knew I'd never see him again.

I've diapered 70+ people I met on the party line and/or MySpace. I've only been robbed by one. (Nearly scammed by a second, but that's another story for another blog entry). Chris was that one. He robbed me but, before that, he'd become my friend.

Chris had been high on crack that night. He was in a crack-crazed frenzy - cocaine was sweeping the city in '06, it seemed like, and anyone "thug" had to have a crack at it lol. I later found out from Leo, our mutual friend, that Chris had developed a habit weeks before.

The day after Chris robbed me he called me and asked me to come back. "I owe you a night in diapers, sir," he told me. I agreed but told him I'd take a rain check. "I think I have a bare-assed paddling coming soon, sir?" I agreed - but, still, a rain check.

Sure, I'll pick you up - so you can take the other $900...

Chris and I continued to be friends on AIM and, incredulously, Chris continues to talk to me up to this day. He was offended that I didn't meet up with him for Christmas '06, and that I didn't diaper him in summer 2007. In 2008 he was beginning to figure out that his diaper-wearing days were over. By that summer he'd told Leo that I was "an asshole."

"You did rob him at knifepoint," Leo reminded him more than once.

"Yea, but... we were friends," Chris would tell him.

Exactly...

Chris still tries to friend me on Facebook. Two weeks ago he requested me, and I grabbed two pictures to share here.

I have a few rules. If I diaper you and you want to remain anonymous, you will. Your picture will never be used, and your first name will be changed in my blog.

Rob me at knifepoint, however, and the rules go out the window...

[NOTE: PICTURES HAVE BEEN REMOVED]

Chris got Pampered, paddled, and humiliated. In the end, he got revenge. He became a friend, then traded the friendship in for a baggy of coke.

Diapering thugs for dough has given me some dope-ass experiences I'd never would have had otherwise. Even knowing the risks I'd do it again today...

Pampers Cruisers: Aidan Edition

I just had to share some original artwork from Aidankid: a bag of Pampers Cruisers - with Aidan on the package. Wow! Haha. How many of us have dreamed of walking into the diaper aisle of the Piggly Wiggly and finding a bag of diapers in our size? Gone are the days of being relegated to the INCONTINENCE aisle... with the new Pampers Cruisers we can shop where many of us feel we truly belong, or at least long to be...

This is, of course, a Photoshopped creation. (I'll let you try to figure out which parts are Photoshopped and which are real). The kid definitely has some talent; hoping he comes up with more along the same lines, but for now this dream-fulfilling package will have to suffice. I know that I, for one, will be thinking of it anytime I "accidentally" pass through the diaper aisle on my way to the geriatric section of the drug store...

Thanks, Aidan!

You can link to Aidan's RUPadded profile here.

Thugs In Hugz: Continues Soon...

This week I'll be concluding the story of Chris, my little Huggied thug from 2006. I promised to write about our last diaper weekend together, and how he robbed me - the only person ever to steal from me in all of my experiences of diapering straight boys.

This week I was cruising MySpace and Facebook for a photo or two - he still sends me requests from time to time, despite having robbed me lol - and I found this in his comments. One of his friends left it, and I had to laugh, thinking about how a liquor-filled baby bottle had exploded in his eye a few years before. Did he share his own diaper stories with his friends?

Story continues this week...

Coming Soon: Guest-entry from a Bambino Baby with a review - and a point of view. Stay tuned...

YouTube Tuesdays: Expanding Our Horizons - Serbia

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