Gramps - Chapter 25

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 25

 

Whether or not you worry about the weather is up to you.  Whether you let the weather affect you is another matter.  Whether or not you try to track the weather in advance is your choice.  Whether you try to plan for whatever weather is coming your way is another matter as well.  In some ways, I considered the fact that Kimmie appeared to be so concerned about what weather we would face on our trip to be a very good thing.  In other ways, not so much.  I guess it depended on whether or not I appreciated her solution for me.  Which I guess I did…overall.

Remember those shopping trips Kimmie liked to take me out on, just to overly humiliate me in public?  Well, let me tell you.  It was Christmas shopping season and there was more public out in the stores than I could deal with, and trust me, dealing with the amount of public who had seen me before was already more than I could take.

But it was December now, and we lived in the hill country of Tennessee.  Guess what.  It got cold up in them thar’ hills.  Now, also remember that all the skirts Kimmie kept dressing me in every day weren’t exactly long, or warm.  I considered tights to be a godsend, especially the few pairs I owned that were a bit thicker than the others.  But they all weren’t that way.  In fact, most of them were pretty thin material.  So thin tights, plus a skirt that barely covered my diaper…in fact, when my diaper was full and sagging, they didn’t cover it very well…meant that every time I went outside, I froze my ass off!

Yeah, it was cold enough out that Kimmie let me wear a winter coat every night now when we walked the yard.  But she didn’t like my winter coat.  In fact, she often said she hated seeing me in that thing.  I didn’t just like my coat, I loved it.  It was warm.  Nice and warm.  But Kimmie hated that coat so much, she wouldn’t let me wear it the next time she took me out of the house for our Saturday shopping/humiliation sprees.  In fact, she wouldn’t let me wear a jacket either.  Nothing!  Just my bra, diaper, tights, a girly top, an overly short skirt, and of course my black little girl Mary Janes.  That’s it.  And it was cold!  Oh yeah, I had a pacifier in my mouth too, but I don’t know if we should count that or not.

Believe me, I felt every bit of that cold blistery air that day when she again dragged me out to the local shopping mall.  I especially felt the cold whenever the wind was blowing, which it seemed to be doing non-stop.  Yes, Kimmie was aware of how cold it was.  She was aware of how cold I was too.  And believe it or not, she didn’t want me to suffer…that way.  She did want me to suffer more humiliation being out in public dressed the way I was in front of crowds and crowds of people.  But suffering from the cold wasn’t what she wanted.

Um…have you ever seen a grown man…forget that he’s dressed ridiculously like a little girl.  Forget that completely…for now.  But have you ever seen a grown man, trying on coats made for girls?  Not women!  Girls!

“Here Gramps,” Kimmie said.  “This one looks like it might have more room in it.”  Or, “I think the sleeves in this one look a bit longer.”  Or, “No Gramps.  I don’t like that style at all.  Take it off.”  I hadn’t even gotten it on yet.  I tried on every winter coat in the largest size available in the girls’ section of four different stores.  All to no avail.  None of them were really big enough.  Oh, a few actually came close and Kimmie was tempted to buy them, but in the end, she didn’t.

Do you know how long it takes to try on that many coats?  Especially when the stores are crowded?  A long time.  Now, multiply that by four stores.  I was actually glad by the time Kimmie gave up.  But I misunderstood her intent.  She dragged me into the women’s departments instead and we started all over again with me trying on winter coats, this time made for women.  Oh no, don’t think for a moment that Kimmie would let me buy something we found from the first store.  Nope!  Don’t forget, her intention was to keep me out in public for as long as possible dressed the way I was.  Four stores of women’s winter coats, then we finally walked back to the first store and bought one there.  Darn woman.  I really was going to kill her that day.

My new winter coat was nice.  It was certainly warm since it was puffy and had fake fur around the collar.  But it only came down just past my waist.  No further.  It would do nothing at all for the lower part of my body where I really needed it, and where it could help hide whatever embarrassing thing I might be wearing.  Nope.  No chance of that at all.  But at least the upper part of me would be warm.

And of course, then Kimmie decided I needed colorful rubber boots as well since there was a good chance we could be facing snow soon.  “Yeah.  I didn’t just pee, I pooped.  Not to mention, my entire body was pooped from all that shopping.

Speaking of pooping, not only did I try on coats for much of the day, but Kimmie kept reminding me to poop as well.  My cellphone would ding, and if she didn’t see me obviously trying to mess my diaper, she would say, “Gramps, are you pooping in your diaper?”  Uh, yeah.  She said that out loud where everyone could hear her.  The only thing I didn’t have to do while we were out was my pacifier videos.  I couldn't imagine having to sit around in the mall and film my face sucking on a pacifier for thirty minutes.  I guess Kimmie couldn’t imagine me doing that in the mall either.  She humiliated me with trying on little girl coats instead, that she probably knew in advance would never fit me.

I didn’t get to wear my new coat until just before we walked out of the mall and into the parking lot.  Boy was I ready to get out of there and go home.  Darn woman.

That evening, I got to wear my new winter coat as Kimmie and I got in our usual daily exercise walking around the backyard.  I didn’t think we needed to do it that day since we had spent so much time walking around the mall, but Kimmie insisted we still needed to do it.  So the two of us walked the yard in our winter coats, and I did everything possible to not complain about how cold my legs and feet were.

I stopped thinking about how cold my lower body was after a few minutes though when Kimmie suddenly said, “Um…Gramps?  How would you feel about…  Oh, never mind.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What?” I asked again.

“It’s just that, one of the gifts I got at that baby shower was a collection of earrings that Allison gave me.  I was wondering how you might feel about having your ears pierced.”

I was shocked!  I was about to answer when she suddenly said.  “Don’t answer that!  It’s not your decision anyway.  You’re a baby.  I don’t even know why I told you.”

I now had something new, something worse, to worry about.  Yeah, my legs were freezing, but I now had something more cold-blooded to worry about than the cold weather.

In the middle of December, we got hit with a bit of an early snowstorm.  Nothing that infrequent for where we lived, but it still reminded us that winter was upon us now.  As if the cold temperatures weren’t enough to do that.  Kimmie and I still walked the backyard every day, with me trying to poop every fifteen minutes.  God I hated that.  I did get to put my new colorful rainboots to good use though.  That much was fun, until I realized that the boots actually made walking more difficult for me.  Once I realized that, the fun in wearing them was over.

Kimmie kept a strict watch on the weather though, not just for where we lived, but also up in Maryland where we were going.  Maryland had gotten hit with the same snowstorm that had hit us, but about a week before we were scheduled to leave, they got hit with a bigger storm.  For a while there I was hoping our trip would get cancelled, but even I knew the reality of that wasn’t going to happen.  It seemed like no time before they weren’t even mentioning road problems in the area anymore.

And then something strange happened.  Something that made me happy.

We were going to Baltimore for an entire week.  Christmas was going to happen on a Thursday, but we were leaving for Baltimore on Saturday, five days before Christmas.  We were going to come home the following Saturday.  The something good for me that happened, happened on Sunday, six days before we would be leaving to head north.

Kimmie had just finished getting me dressed for the day, when she stopped me before either of us got out of the room.  “Okay Gramps,” she said.  “No more pacifier videos.  Can you live with that?”

Huh?  “Yes!” I literally shouted as I raised my arms up in the air.

“And there’s one other thing too,” she said

I waited for something worse to take the place of those videos.

“Instead of trying to poop every fifteen minutes, I reset your timer so you can do it every twenty minutes instead.  That’s only three times every hour instead of four.  But Gramps, trust me.  I better see you still trying to pee and poop in your diaper all the time.  And I mean all the time.  No holding back at all.  Or else…”

Yes, I danced around, happy as a lark.  It was only a little bit of a difference, but it certainly seemed like a huge improvement to me.  Funny thing though, I still found myself pushing with every little thing that caught my attention.  But still, my phone dinging only every twenty minutes was a huge relief.

And then Monday came.  Five days before our trip.  Kimmie got me dressed then laid her new requirements on me.  “Gramps,” she said.  “I reprogrammed the timer on your cellphone again last night.  It’s only going to go off every thirty minutes now for you to try to poop instead of every twenty minutes.  But trust me, if I don’t see you constantly trying to pee and poop in those diapers you’ll be back to every fifteen minutes before you know it, and it’ll stay like that, even on our trip.”

I was flabbergasted with happiness.  Only every thirty minutes now?  Only every half-hour?  Whee!

“Just don’t forget,” she warned me.  “If I don’t see you trying…”

“Yeah,” I replied.  “No problem,” I told her.

Once again, every little thing that caught my attention had me realizing that I needed to pee or poop, but most of the time as I was realizing what I needed to think about doing, I also realized that I was already doing it.  But hey, that was a good thing, right?  I didn’t want to have to go back to worrying about it every fifteen minutes.  I only had to push for fifteen seconds every half hour.  It was like total freedom!

It wasn’t until Tuesday, four days before our trip, that I realized there was a pattern to what Kimmie had been doing.  She got me dressed as usual, then said, “Gramps, I did some adjusting to your cellphone again last night.”

This time I was hopeful for what she might say.  I was anticipating it breathlessly.

Yup!  “You only have to try to pee and poop in your diaper once every hour now,” she told me.

Yes, yes, yes!  Mana from heaven.

As she was giving me her usual warning about she better see me trying to do it all the time, I was already hoping that the next step would be to never have to worry about that little dinging sound again.

All day long, my mind was thinking about her requirements for me possibly ending completely.  It would be such a relief.  Yes, I was conscious to try to stop as often as possible so her surveillance videos of me would show me trying to do what I shouldn’t in my diaper.  And I did that despite the fact that I still found myself peeing and trying to poop at the least little distraction.

Three days before the trip, On Wednesday, Kimmie handed me the best present possible. 

“No more pushing schedule Gramps.  None!  Your cellphone won’t be going off today at all, unless it’s a phone call or text message for you.  But don’t forget…”

“Yeah, yeah,” I told her happily.  “I need to keep doing it anyway.”

She smiled.  “Right!  Don’t forget, I’ll be watching.”

I already knew she would.  But I was happy.  I was free.  Free, free, free!  It was like the best feeling in the world.  Oh, I did remember to try to pee and poop as obviously as I could, even though I was already doing it not so obviously every time something caught my attention.  But I wasn’t always aware that I was doing that.  It happened so often that it was starting to become an unconscious reaction.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.  Oh dreary life, oh dear.  On Thursday, just two days before our trip, Kimmie changed it all again.  “Sorry Gramps she told me, but you’re back to trying to pee and poop every fifteen minutes again.”

I was crestfallen.  “But I did keep trying to do it.  I promise, I did.”

“I know you did,” she told me.  “And I’m very happy about it.”

“Then why?”

“Because that’s the way I want it.  Babies don’t need any more explanation that that.  It’s because I said so, and that’s it.”

Yeah, I was really depressed.  It was back to the old grind.  Every fifteen minutes.  There was no freedom at all anymore.  No way to ever relax.  There was only misery.

And Friday, the day before our trip was no better.  I had been hoping she would take the requirement away again, or at least relax it some, but she didn’t.  And she confirmed that when she said, “Every fifteen minutes Gramps, and don’t forget it.”

How could I forget it?  I wanted to throw my phone out the window and hope it got buried in the snow – permanently!  Darn woman!

Um…we’re going to fast forward just a tiny bit to Saturday, the day of the trip, just so that I can tell you that that day, Saturday, Kimmie told me that once again there would no longer be any requirement for me to keep trying to pee and poop in my diaper every fifteen minutes.  There would be no reminders for me to do that at all on our trip.  Not as long as she continued to see me trying to do it all the time by myself instead.  I don’t have to tell you how anxious I was to agree to that.

It wasn’t until I was in the car and we were on our way back to Disaster City that I figured it out.  Sending me right back into the worst possible nightmare of constantly having to poop in my diaper was her way of trying to reinforce the fragile habit that she had tried to instill in me.  A habit that was so newly formed it would be somewhat easy for me to overcome.  But it was a habit she didn’t want me to overcome.

Heck, I was so sick of her little exercises I was ready to do anything to get out of them.

Darn woman!