My Funny Farm
By
Karen Singer
Chapter 9 – Let Me Check My
Schedule – Part 2 of 2
The next day was Sunday.
I was sound asleep when Emily came into my room to wake me. I was sound asleep because I had woken up too
many times during the night to pee, and then trying to go back to sleep
afterwards always took a long time. My
three layers of diapers felt huge surrounding my bottom. Right there in bed, Emily removed my pacifier
and handed me another bottle of baby formula to drink. I was beginning to develop a huge hatred for
that stuff, but I laid there in my bed, closed my eyes and tried to at least
rest a bit more while I drank the darn thing.
When Emily finally came back, I expected her to change me,
but she inspected my humongous load of diapers and declared that it looked like
I could wait a little while more before she changed me. She had to be kidding! I had no idea how many times I had wet myself
since they had stuck me in them last night.
She sat me down and fed me breakfast, but it certainly
wasn’t any kind of breakfast I wanted.
It was a bowl of…something.
That’s as close as I could ever come to what it was. I realized right away that they had fixed
some kind of baby cereal for me to eat.
I tasted it. Not tasteless, but
not much flavor at all. Despite the lack
of flavor, I still considered it to taste bad. Caitlin advised me that I either needed to eat
it all myself, or she would sit there and feed me…like she had been considering
doing from the start. That was a bit of
embarrassment I had a chance to avoid, so I suffered through it. And I mean suffered!
After that, I was allowed to watch cartoons on TV for an
hour. But it was cartoons they chose,
not me. Trust me, they were the most
babyish, boring, and lousy cartoons you can imagine. But while I was sitting there, Caitlin
delivered yet another baby bottle for me to drink. Through the clear plastic of the bottle, I
saw something white inside. The baby
formula was more of a darker cream color.
I figured it was milk. I tasted
it and got a surprise. It tasted
good! Kind of sweet with a flavor I
couldn’t place right away. I drank it
happily, especially since it washed the taste of that awful baby cereal out of
my mouth.
After the cartoons, it was playtime again. I had already been though that routine yesterday,
so I knew what to watch and listen for to make them think I was actually
playing with that stuff.
Eventually Caitlin brought me another baby bottle of something
to drink while I was playing. It turned
out to be something fruity I couldn’t recognize. It tasted a whole lot better than baby
formula, even having to drink it from that bottle.
“I need you to finish that bottle before your nap,” she told
me.
Nap? Yes. Believe it or not. Shortly after I finished drinking that stuff,
I was put down for my morning nap. I
really wished I had a clock in my room to tell how long I had to lay there and
pretend to sleep, but eventually Emily came in and got me up. And guess what, it was playtime again. Oh goody!
In the middle of playtime, they took me out of there and fed me lunch,
then dragged me right back to that same corner of my bedroom for even more
playtime. I really hated looking at
those stupid toys!
After a while, Caitlin and Emily both came into the room.
“Okay baby,” Emily said.
“You’ve been real good today,” Caitlin finished.
“You can have some time looking at whatever you want on your
computer.”
I couldn’t believe it.
They dragged me into my home office and sat me down in front of the
computer. At least my diaper was only
wet and not messy. Caitlin turned the
computer on for me.
“I know it seems weird,” Emily told me, “but we’d prefer it
if you spend your time here looking at some of that porn you like so much.”
That surprised me.
“You want me to look at it?”
“Yes!” Caitlin confirmed.
“Enjoy it.”
With that, they both walked out, leaving me alone with my
pacifier, wet diaper, and my computer. I
expected to see them in a few minutes, but as time went on, they seemed to stay
away. As they suggested, I was more than
happy to pull up all that porn that I had liked so much…and that I hadn’t been
able to look at in a while. Besides, I
couldn’t think of anything else to look at.
The time on the computer told me I had been in there for
exactly half an hour when Caitlin came back and literally shut my computer down
on me, not allowing me one minute more.
Oh well, it had been the best half hour I’d had since I started this
weird new life.
She dragged me back to my bedroom, not to play, but to take
another nap. Emily brought me another
baby bottle to drink, stupid baby formula again, and I was soon left
alone. Alone with a baby bottle, a wet
diaper, and my mind full of the images I had been looking at on the
computer. When the bottle was done, I
set it on the nightstand and rolled over onto my stomach. My groin was humping the bed before I knew
it.
“Wait a minute baby,” I heard.
I was shocked! I had
been caught! I looked up to see Caitlin
standing over me. She reached toward my
face and stuck that darn pacifier in my mouth again. “Enjoy your nap,” she said with a chuckle,
before she walked out.
I couldn’t believe it.
After a few minutes of waiting to see if she would come back, guess what,
I started humping again. Sissy porn was
running through my head, and I was wearing a wet diaper, a girl’s nightie, I
was sucking on a pacifier, and I had just finished drinking a baby bottle full
of baby formula. It doesn’t get any
better than that.
---
§§§§§§§§§§ ---
When I woke up from my nap, I got out of bed and headed out
to the living room. No, I wasn’t
interested in staying in there to play with my toys. But when I got to the living room, I found
Ashley with them. It was only then that
I remembered that she was supposed to see me every Sunday for “a talk.” Whatever that meant.
“There you are,” Ashley said with a smile as she got up from
her seat on the couch. She came over and
gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“How are you?” she asked.
I didn’t bother telling her about my wet diaper or how much
I wanted out of this strange new life.
“Fine!” I said curtly.
“Good,” she told me.
She took my arm. “Come on.”
She led me back into the bedroom where she rearranged the
pillows on my king-sized bed and sat up on the bed, inviting me to sit there
with her.
“Is this the part where you’re going to tell me now much
worse my treatment is going to get?” I asked.
“Not at all,” she replied.
“We told you everything we want you to know yesterday. This is just Sunday. My day to talk with you for a while.”
“About what?”
She seemed to sigh, then lean her head back and stare at the
ceiling. “I thought that maybe we’d talk
about Mom today,” she told me. “You want
to know what my fondest memories are of her?”
“Sure,” I replied.
“But let me guess. The two of you
messing around in the kitchen like you used to, making a big mess of
everything.”
She laughed.
“Yeah. They were great times
too. But no, that doesn’t come to the
top of my list.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Nope. My favorite
times with Mom were all the times we went shopping together.”
“I can believe that.
She loved to shop…and so did you!”
“Yeah,” she admitted.
“I’m afraid I still do. I guess
I’ve got Mom to blame for that.”
“Most likely. She saw
to it that you got enough practice.”
She laughed again.
“She certainly did that. But oh,
the fun we had together looking at things.
And don’t get me started on shopping for clothes.”
“You two bought enough over the years to clothe an entire
poor country somewhere.”
Once again she laughed.
“We might have. How about you?”
she asked. “What’s your favorite memories
about her?”
“Me? I’ve got tons of
them. I still see her everywhere…or I
want to. I go into a certain room, and I
think she’s there. I’m driving the car,
and I turn to her in the seat next to me to tell her something, except she’s
not there. I even go grocery shopping,
and all I think about is if it’s something she would like or approve of.”
She was still staring at the ceiling, not at me. “I can believe it,” she replied. “But what’s your favorite memory of her…other
than the sex you two enjoyed. I don’t
need to know about that.”
“That’s something a parent doesn’t normally tell
their kids!” I pointed out.
“Normally,” she agreed.
“And I did say other than that.
What’s your favorite thing?”
Now I looked up at the ceiling as well. I sat there and thought, and thought. “I don’t know,” I told her. “There are so many things. I can’t boil it down.” I looked over at her. “We spent a lifetime together. It’s impossible to boil something like that
down to just one thing.”
She nodded at me and stared back at the ceiling. “Pick one thing,” she finally said. “And tell me about it…and her. Remind me about her,” she told me.
“Remind you? You might
have actually known her better than me.”
“Maybe,” she conceded.
“But remind me anyway. I’d…like
that.”
“Yeah, you probably would.”
I thought for a moment, then said, “She was beautiful, your mother. I was drawn to her when we were still young
kids, even before I was interested in girls or anything to do with girlfriend –
boyfriend situations. She simply…held my
eyes and my mind.”
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“Mom was always pretty.
Beautiful.”
“And so are you,” I told her. “Even now, every time I look at you I wonder
how I could have sired such a beautiful woman.”
She pulled her eyes from the ceiling, rolled over, hugged
me, and kissed my cheek. Then she rolled
back again and went back to looking at the ceiling. “Keep going,” she told me. “But not about me. “I want to hear your thoughts about Mom.”
So I spent a little while once again telling her about how
we had grown up together, gone to school together, talked together, dated
together, gone to the same college together, moved in together, and had married
between our junior and senior years of college to make our union official. By that time, everyone in the world thought
we were already married.
When I had finished just that much, she again rolled over,
hugged me, and kissed me. “Thanks Dad,”
she told me. I realized then that she
was crying. “I needed that.”
I hugged her tightly and tears came to my eyes too. “Anytime,” I told her. “I love to think about her. More than you know.”
“I know,” she told me.
“Unfortunately, you may think about her too much.”
“Never too much,” I replied.
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