Gramps - Chapter 20

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 20

 

Looming is an ominous word.  I don’t think I’ve ever heard the word used in connection with something good happening.  I’m sure many of you have, but for me, I can’t think of a single case.  Of course, maybe it’s because I had something looming over my near future now.  Two somethings in fact.  And neither of them was anything good.  At least, not for me.

Yeah, Kimmie had told me that everyone in the family knew all about what she and I were doing, which was a situation that in itself I wasn’t happy about.  How do you tell your kids that you spend your life learning how to piss and shit freely in your diapers, and that you spend more time drinking from a baby bottle than anything else?  I can’t even conceive of that conversation.  But now, thanks to Kimmie, it sounded like that conversation was about to be forced on me whether I wanted it or not.

Looming.  I could only see disaster and heartache looming over my head.

That conversation with Kimmie had happened on Thursday, exactly one week before Thanksgiving.  Now it was the following day, Friday.  According to Kimmie, she had to teach on the following Monday and Tuesday, but after that, on Wednesday, the school would be going into recess for Thanksgiving, and like it or not, we would be leaving for Maryland to see the entire rest of our family.  We were going so we could see them, but I think it was more like so they could all see me…and probably berate, and belittle, and condemn me.  It was Friday, we were leaving on Wednesday.  Only six days away.  Six days until…looming disaster.

Kimmie told me that she and her mother had started discussing it at the beginning of November.  She had just waited until now to tell me about it.  Purposely!  What was going to happen when we got there?  How was I going to handle it all, when we got there?  How exactly was everyone going to treat me…when we got there.  We hadn’t even left yet, and I was making myself sick with worry.

Evidently, according to Kimmie, she had bought two “special” dresses over the internet for me to wear up there.  One to wear on Thanksgiving Day, and the other for when they held the baby shower.  Kimmie though, was determined to keep both those dresses hidden from me, so I wouldn’t be allowed to see them until then.  “Oh Gramps,” she had said.  “You’re going to just love them!”

Dresses?  Something told me that loving them wasn’t exactly the way she should have put it.  And yes, my stomach grew a bit more ill when she told me about them.

Remember the way Kimmie’s security system gave her the ability to talk to me, and she could hear me too?  Well, that Friday, she put that ability to use once again.  I had just sent off another of those pacifier videos, when all of a sudden her voice from nowhere seemed to be coming from everywhere.  It surprised me enough that it actually scared me until I realized what I was hearing.

“Gramps,” her voice suddenly filled the room.

It took me a moment to calm myself down to reply, “Kimmie?”

“Yeah Gramps.  Who else?”

“What’s the problem?  I sent the video.  Did I do something wrong?”

“I haven’t seen it yet,” she told me.  “Gramps.  I want you to spend some time playing with your toys now.  I want you playing instead of watching TV until it’s time for lunch.  And Gramps, it’s slow here at school right now, so I can sit and look at my phone more than usual.  So play!  And have fun.”

“Fun?” I asked, incredulously.  I waited for a reply, but I didn’t get one.  “Kimmie?”  Nothing.  “Are you there?”  Still no reply.  Was she watching, or wasn’t she?  Like it or not, I lowered myself down to the floor in front of that…thing from hell, and I began reaching out to randomly touch things.  Oh, the stupid sounds that thing could make.  It was all so stupid.  But something told me that Kimmie was indeed watching.  My eyes went briefly to the corner where she liked to hook my nose so I couldn’t move.  Nope!  Didn’t need that kind of pain.  I spun the colorful shapes on top of the toy instead.  What fun, what fun.  I think I needed a better definition of fun.

That little play session wasn’t the only time I had to face that monstrosity of a baby toy.  As always, I changed my diaper at two, but after that, Kimmie’s  “ethereal” voice forced me to take another nap…along with the dumb bear of course.  When she allowed me to “wake up” from not sleeping at three o’clock, it was only so that I could try and poop in my diaper again before sitting forever and almost really falling asleep while I filmed myself sucking the way she thought I should.  Boring!  Once that was done, her voice from hell sent me directly out to spend time “playing” with my toy again until it was time for her to come home.

Yeah, my life was still going downhill.  Straight downhill to hell!  And it felt like the only thing I could do about it, was to sit there and piss in my diaper.  Some protest that was.  It didn’t seem to make any difference to Kimmie at all.  But hey, I enjoyed doing it.  Don’t tell Kimmie!

 

And then it was Saturday.  Saturday, Saturday, Saturday.  Can we just forget about Saturday and the shopping trip?  Okay, maybe we better not.  Big breath…and here we go.

Baby powder.  Diaper.  Plastic pants.  White tights.  Bra.  Black little girl Mary Jane shoes.  The dress Kimmie made me buy a few weeks back.  And two ribbons in my hair again.  Oh, and we can’t forget the purse she made me carry.  I’m not mentioning my pacifier.  That goes without saying, right?

She couldn’t seem to make up her mind as to if she wanted me to carry the stupid teddy bear or not, then she finally decided no, I should leave it home.  She was too afraid I might “accidently” lose the thing.  Plus, one of the stops she planned on making was in the toy store again where we had originally bought the thing.  Carrying my bear in there might cause a bit of an awkward situation.  As if me, by myself, wasn’t awkward enough.

Dressed so prettily and daintily, and feeling happy and grateful that God had let me be born as a little girl, I danced my way out of the house and into the car.  Um…it didn’t go quite like that, in case you’re interested.  Either way, we were off to once again visit…the mall.  (Insert dramatic music here).

You know, I’d swear I never saw any kind of construction around that place, but it seemed to look bigger to me each time we went in.  Oh, and yes, we did go in.  And around.  And up.  And down.  And literally everywhere.  Just so everyone could ogle me.  Er…that’s my opinion.  According to Kimmie, we were there so we could shop for our upcoming trip to visit the family.  I was the baby, and she was the adult.  Guess whose opinion won out.  Not mine.  We didn’t actually have that discussion though.  I didn’t say much of anything all day, as usual.  That baby pacifier I sucked as we wandered all around that place wouldn’t permit it.  But those thoughts were certainly on my mind.

In case you’re wondering, yes, we shopped and bought more girly clothes for me, including tights in white, pink, and blue, more short, short skirts, and another dress.  And yes, we went into the toy store and walked out with toys.  Baby toys.  An entire collection of toys that I “couldn’t wait” to play with.

During that mall visit, for some weird unknown reason, Kimmie suddenly became very interested in something different…for me of course.  Hair accessories.  All kinds of different hair stuff.  And I’m not talking about wigs.  Ribbons and bows.  Hair clips made for kids.  Headbands.  You name it, Kimmie had to look them over and select more than a few to buy.  Particularly the ribbons and bows.  While Kimmie saw pretty things that she would just love to see on me, I only saw embarrassment on an entirely new level.  By hey, pretty things and my embarrassment were just two ways of saying the same thing, right?  I think they were as far as Kimmie was concerned.

I spent more money on that shopping trip with Kimmie than I had on any other trip yet.  And it was all for me, just so I could feel more stupid in front of my entire family than ever.  As if my new life wasn’t bad enough.

I was literally worn out by the time we got home, so Kimmie let me rest by sticking me on the floor surrounded by not just that toddler toy from hell, but all the rest of the toys we had just bought too.

“Now you’ve got lots of pretty new toys to play with Gramps,” Kimmie had said brightly.  “Aren’t you happy?”

Happy?  Yeah.  First I needed a new definition for fun, and now I needed a new definition for happy.  Obviously, I had those two things wrong my entire life.

I looked at the baby toys scattered around me.  Yes, that monstrosity from the black lagoon was there, taking up a lot of space.  Yes, my beloved teddy bear was there to watch me playing too.  But now those things were joined by a set of colorful stacking rings, a fairly large soft material doll that literally blew my mind since it could say a bunch of different phrases and sang four different songs.  A wooden puzzle with eight whole pieces that I was sure would take me hours to put together, and a doll house that came complete with three little weird people, a tree, a swimming pool, furniture, and…okay, here it comes…the house also made noises, spoke phrases, and played songs I could learn to sing.  At least the puzzle and stacking rings didn’t make any noise at all, unless I pounded the pieces together in frustration.

So many things (I didn’t want).  All of it for me.  Oh joy.  And there was Kimmie, looking on with such a loving proud look on her face (yes, believe it or not, she did).  Kimmie was waiting to see me play.  I looked around again.  What to break…I mean play with first?  Remarkably, the plastic doll house won out.  I laid down on my stomach in front of it and began putting the furniture and people inside and the tree and swimming pool in the nonexistent backyard.  And of course, I pushed the buttons that made it say things and sing songs at me.  When I looked over to see Kimmie’s reaction to what I was doing, she was gone.  I didn’t see her at all.  But with so many toys that made noise, I had no doubt she’d be listening for what I was doing.

I stayed there and “played” until Kimmie grabbed me and changed my diaper, before giving me another bottle to drink when she put me down for my afternoon nap.  I was just glad for a reason to get away from those toys.  But not all those toys, While I was sucking on the bottle, Kimmie just had to stick my teddy bear and that soft singing doll in bed with me.  I had a king-size bed, but if I had to share it with many more toddler things, I was going to need something even bigger.

 

The sky is falling.  The sky is falling.  I think the sky actually fell.  Sunday came, and everything went topsy-turvy on me again.  My head was beginning to spin.  The trip to Maryland to see the family was now looming closer than ever.  It frightened me more than ever too.

If you’ll remember, and if you don’t there’s got to be something wrong with you, Kimmie and I went grocery shopping every Sunday – not because we need the groceries, which we really did, but just so that Kimmie could embarrass the hell out of me.  At least, that’s the impression I got from all those trips.  But this Sunday, the world had tipped over again and I wasn’t exactly prepared for the changes.

Okay, it started out the same as always.  I woke up (maybe I shouldn’t have).  I got myself out of bed and went into the bathroom where I brushed my teeth, shaved my face, and wet my soaked diaper, making it even more soaked than it was.  After a minute though, I couldn’t tell the difference between the before and after.  It was usually like that every morning.  Getting out of that footed fleece sleeper wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but it wasn’t difficult either.  My biggest problem was going from being snuggly warm inside the thing to the cold air hitting my body.  My diaper soon went directly into the diaper pail trash can, and I hurried my butt into the shower.  Ah, warm water.  As always, I was slow to get out.  When I decided I had better finally face the world, I turned the shower off, grabbed my towel, and dried my body.

As always, Kimmie was waiting in the bedroom to dress me.  An abundance of baby powder, followed directly by her pulling a diaper up between my legs and taping it firmly.  And that’s when the world began to change on me again.  Instead of dressing me like a little girl, or even like a big girl with high heels, all she did was hand me one of my own sweatshirts to put on.  No bra under it.  No tights.  No little girl socks.  No little girl shoes or heels.  In fact, no shoes at all.  Nothing.  Just that old sweatshirt of mine and the diaper.  Oh, and my pacifier of course, but we’re not counting that.

You’d think I’d feel strange walking around like that with my diaper fully exposed, but Kimmie had kept me with nothing to cover it for so long now that having nothing over it seemed normal.  Much more normal than being able to wear something over it like she had allowed me to do lately.

“Go out and play with your toys.  I’ll turn the TV on for you until breakfast is ready,” she told me.

I was so shocked I pulled the plug from my mouth.  “Play?  Now?  With nothing else on?” I asked.

“Yes!  You’ll be warm enough.  Get used to it.  And get that baby pacifier back in your mouth.”

A minute later, plugged and muted, I was sitting in front of my toys.  I was plugged and muted, but my toys weren’t muted at all.  Uh…except for the puzzle and the stacking rings.  I hadn’t come across any way for them to start singing at me yet, but if they did I wouldn’t be surprised.

As she promised, Kimmie turned the TV on for me.  But she didn’t tune it to any station I wanted to watch.  She didn’t walk off until the thing was playing the most babyish cartoons she could find.

Kimmie finally announced breakfast, and I got up and headed to the kitchen.  I paused though on the way as a realization hit me.  I hadn’t yet heard the ding from my cellphone announcing that it was pooping time.  I checked the clock.  Nearly eight-fifteen.  I guessed I had been so “engrossed” enjoying those cartoons on TV that I had missed it.  It’s amazing that Kimmie hadn’t caught the problem and let me know.

After breakfast, it was back to the toys and cartoons.  None of which I was interested in.  Kimmie cleaned up the kitchen, and a while later I realized she was doing laundry.  Okay, we were going on a trip soon.  That only made sense.  What didn’t make sense was having to play with stupid singing toys, and watch stupid singing cartoons on the TV.

The realization came slowly.  Or maybe it was just that being a baby my intelligence level had dropped more than I expected.  But before lunch, I realized that not once had I heard that darn cellphone ding to tell me it was time to poop in my diaper or film myself with the baby pacifier.  And not once had Kimmie mentioned either thing to me.  What was going on?  Not that I was complaining.  Trust me, I wasn’t going to complain about that for anything…as long as Kimmie didn’t punish me for missing those deadlines.  Did I need to watch the clock and show her I could keep to my schedule without being told?  I didn’t know what to do.

By lunchtime, I was still on the floor with the toys and cartoons and Kimmie was still doing laundry.  Being so worried about my usual schedule, the minute I was allowed to pull my pacifier out so I could eat, I asked her about it.

“Don’t worry about it Gramps,” she told me.  “While we’re in Maryland you’re not going to be able to do any of that…except trying to poop of course.  I’d really like it if you kept trying to do that consciously whenever you can.”

Yeah right.  Like I was really going to do that.  I was just glad to hear that for the first time in a long while, I had no schedule and none of the usual required exercises she had forced on me.  Somehow though, I still found myself trying to push something out into my diaper, even when I had no need to do it.  Had doing that become some kind of habit?  I hoped not.  But still, my diaper was more than ready to be changed once two o’clock came around.

That afternoon, when Kimmie and I walked the yard, the only things she allowed me to wear other than my sweatshirt and the diaper I had on, was my pink sneakers and a jacket.  I told her I was worried about how cold my legs would get, but she told me I’d be fine, and I needed to get used to it.

It seemed like there were a lot of new things in my life I needed to get used to now.

 

Monday and Tuesday were carbon copies of Sunday, only without Kimmie being around.  She did make my life interesting once in a while though when I would suddenly hear her voice telling me to play with the toys and that the TV had better be playing cartoons and nothing else.

Both days, Kimmie still seemed to spend more time doing laundry than usual.  Why?  Okay, I knew she’d probably wash all those new clothes we had bought at the mall on Saturday before she let me wear them, but why everything else?  Was she planning on us staying up there for the rest of our lives?  It seemed like it.  There was also the number of diapers she had piled up for us to take.  A lot!  And I mean both day and nighttime diapers.  We were only going to be gone for five days and four nights.  That’s four nighttime diapers, and ten daytime diapers.  Nine if you don’t count the one I’d be wearing when I left home.

By Tuesday, I was surprised to find that I was still trying to randomly push out some poop into my diaper, even when I didn’t feel the need.  And when the need did barely hit me, I was already pushing before I realized what was happening.  And don’t talk to me about peeing.  I was wet most of the time.  End of story.  Yes, I usually felt the need hit me, but I had no reason in the world to wait before letting it out.  At least, that’s the reasoning I held onto as to why I was peeing so often.

Tuesday evening after Kimmie got home from school, she seemed to be a whirlwind of activity, but she still took time to drag me twice around the backyard just before dinner.  Then after dinner, she made me sit down as she sometimes did and she redid my seemingly permanent pink fingernails.  I didn’t have to ask why.  Besides, I had that baby pacifier in my mouth forcing me to not ask anything.  Not to mention, knowing Kimmie and the mood she seemed to be in, she’d probably launch into another of those “talks” about why was I asking questions.  Babies don’t ask questions.  And just who’s the baby here anyway?  Yeah, I just let her do it.  Not that I seemed to have a choice.

It came as no surprise to me Tuesday night.  Before putting me to bed, Kimmie often stuck me in the bathtub just so she could shave my entire body.  As I said, this time it came as no surprise.  When she put me to bed though, it was in my nighttime diaper and literally nothing else.  Nothing!  Uh…yeah, the bear and the singing doll were there, but I wasn’t wearing them.  That alone made the looming disaster that was about to happen seem not only more imminent, but real.

I had a trip looming over me that would start the next day.  And just the thought of the family seeing me like this scared me to death.  Yeah, I was worried about the drive up there too, not to mention the drive home.  How many people would see me then?  But it was the family seeing me that really scared me.  All those worries gave me a good reason to pee like I did.  And laying there in bed, drinking my baby bottle full of baby formula, thinking and worrying about the trip we were about to make, I found myself peeing before I realized it was happening.  That was fine.  As I said, I figured I had good reason to pee like that. 

 

Gramps - Chapter 19

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 19

 

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall.  Ninety-nine bottles of beer.  You take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall.  Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall.  Ninety….  Okay, you all know the old song.  It would take an entire chapter just to write it all down.  I didn’t have ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, but I did have six bottles in the refrigerator.  None of the bottles I had contained beer, although I’d rather have the beer than what was in them.

When I discovered six bottles in my refrigerator on Monday morning instead of the previous five, I noticed that three of them held white stuff.  Drinking them later confirmed my worst fears.  Baby formula.  I think you can all agree that I should have kept my big mouth shut in the supermarket the day before.

My life had been ruled by schedules before.  Kimmie had relaxed that schedule by quite a bit for me now, but it was still ruled by schedules.  And yes, some of that schedule was of my own doing because of my own habits.

I got up at seven o’clock every morning, which seemed to work out well for Kimmie so she could get to work.  Most of the time I went from my bed straight into the bathroom where I shaved my face, shed my nasty bulk of night diaper, and stepped into the shower to get my body as clean as possible.  I usually spent more time in the shower than I should, just because it felt so good.  There were a few days on the weekends when Kimmie kept me in my night diaper until after breakfast, but those days didn’t happen often.  In fact, on weekends, parts of my schedule went out the window completely, but not all of it.  Especially not Kimmie’s rules for my life.

When I got out of the shower every day, Kimmie was always waiting for me.  She made me smell embarrassingly like a baby each time by putting an overly generous amount of baby powder on me before pulling my first daytime diaper in place.  Then she always seemed to take great delight in dressing me according to whatever whim she had in mind.  Lately, it was like a toddler.  Uh…a girl toddler.

Monday morning, I was pleased again to realize she was putting me in another little skirt to cover my diaper all day, along with the little girl shoes.  Oh, and of course another pair of those sweet little socks.

At eight o'clock each day, I had to try and shit in my nice clean and usually dry diaper, just before Kimmie went off to work, leaving me alone with just her camera system all over the house to keep an eye on me.  At nine o’clock, I had to try and shit again, followed by twenty minutes filming myself sucking my baby pacifier with my cellphone.  Ten o’clock, try to shit again.  Eleven o’clock, shit and film.  Twelve, shit again, then have lunch.  One o’clock, shit and film.  Two o’clock, shit, then change my diaper (finally!).  Three o’clock, shit and film.  Four, oh shit!  Five, shit and film again.  Kimmie usually came home around then, but the schedule kept going no matter what else was going on.

Every evening, Kimmie and I walked the perimeter of my big backyard.  Sometimes before dinner, sometimes after, but usually before dinner because the days were getting shorter and it was pretty dark out there.  But Kimmie still forced me to get my exercise, even in the dark.  We just carried flashlights if we needed them.

At eight o’clock, right after my pooping exercise, Kimmie cleaned me up, put me in my night diaper, and dressed me for bed.  Instead of that lightweight pretty nightgown thing that didn’t even cover my diaper, I was now dressed overly warmly in the fleece footed pajama thing.  Yeah, it was certainly soft.  But darn it was warm.  Especially with a wet diaper underneath.

My schedule ended at eight-thirty every night when she put me to bed.  Being relieved of the schedule was like a huge weight lifted from my life.  Unfortunately, it came back every morning when I woke up.  The truth was, there was no relief from it.  Not as long as Kimmie had me continuing to dance to her tune.

I remember it well, just like I’ll never forget the things that happened afterwards.  It was the third week in November when it all started for me.  For Kimmie it had started at the beginning of November, I just hadn’t known about it.  Remember that last time, early in November when Kimmie sat herself down in my lap?  (The pony conversation!  Remember?  Ponies.  Come on people, keep up here).  Well, it was the third week of November, exactly one week before Thanksgiving, when Kimmie suddenly turned off the TV on me and forced her way into my lap again.

She hugged my neck tightly, and kissed me on the cheek probably harder than she ever had.  “I love you Gramps,” she told me.  “I love you so much.”  Then she squeezed my neck again.

I pulled the baby pacifier from my mouth so I could talk.  “I love you too Kimmie,” I told her.  “Very much, but I’m still not buying you a pony.”

“Oh Gramps!” she whined  “Please?  Pretty please?  Pretty please with sugar on top?”

“No!” I told her with finality.

“But Gramps.  We could go riding together every day.  And wouldn’t a couple of pretty ponies in the backyard be soooo cute?”

“No!”

She laughed.  “I’m going to wear you down one of these days, she teased.”

“No!” I said once again, and she laughed.

“Gramps,” she said, much more seriously.  “I need to discuss something with you.  Something important.”

I looked at her, so close to me.  Her face was as serious as I’ve ever seen it.  I just sat there and listened.

“Remember, about two years ago when I got so sick?”

“Yeah Kimmie,” I replied softly.  “I remember.  It took you a while to get better.  From what Grams told me, you had a lot of trouble for years with…your body.”

She nodded.  “Yeah, I did.  What we didn’t tell everyone, because I didn’t want everyone to know, is that the last time I was in the hospital for it, they went in and did a partial hysterectomy on me.”

I was shocked.

“Gramps,” she said.  “I can’t have babies.”

I stared at her, then hugged her tightly.  “I’m so sorry Kimmie.  I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want anyone to know,” she repeated.  “Even Grams didn’t know.  Mom knows, and I’m guessing that she may have told all my aunts, but I’m not sure.  I didn’t want even them to know.  But the way they’re all acting over how I treat you…well, I have to wonder now.”

I wondered exactly what she meant by that.  But she had told me before that the entire family knew about me.  But the family knowing was something that couldn’t be undone.  “You didn’t ask her?  You talk to your mother all the time.”

She nodded.  “I’ve been too…I don’t know.  I just didn’t want everyone to know.  Not being able to have a baby, that’s like…letting the entire family down.”

“Kimmie!  No it’s not!  Who would ever…”

“The women Gramps.  It’s a woman thing, okay?  Trust me.  But it’s something I feel really bad about.  Women are supposed to have babies, and I wanted one someday.  Now, I can’t.  The only good thing about it all is that since the operation I haven’t had any more problems.  None.”

“That’s good,” I told her.  “In fact, it’s great.”

She nodded again, but sadly.  “But it’s not so great.  I wanted to have a baby someday,” she said again.

I hugged her.  “I’m so sorry for you,” I told her.

She hugged me and kissed my cheek.  Then she took a big breath and sighed.  “So Gramps, I think that’s why I seem to love dressing you up so much every day.  That’s why I don’t mind changing your diapers every day, even when they’re full of shit…which is almost always.  That’s why I like loving on you so much.  Gramps, I think you’re like the baby I can’t ever have.  You’re becoming like the child I’ll never get to raise.  And Gramps, I not only love you more than I ever have in my life…which was a lot to begin with…but I love taking care of you too, just as if…you’re mine.  And you are mine,” she added a bit more brightly.  “You’re my Gramps.  I just want you to know how much I love you.  You’ve always been important to me, but now…Gramps, you’re more important to me than ever.”

What could I say to all that?  I hugged her again.  “I love you too Kimme.  You know that.  Very, very much.”

She hugged me again.  “Good!” she said before taking another big breath.  “Because I need you to do something.  In fact, I’m going to insist you do it.  And Gramps, I’m so serious about this, that I’ll go out of my way to make sure you do it, whether you like it or not, which I’m already guessing you won’t.”

I looked at her suspiciously, trying to brace myself for something horrible that I couldn’t imagine.

“Gramps,” she said.  “It’s all arranged.  Everyone is planning on it.”

“What?” I managed to get out of my mouth, although how I said even that one word is beyond me.

“I’m taking you home for Thanksgiving, and I promised everyone that you would be my baby girl the entire time.”

My mouth dropped as I looked at her in disbelief.

“And they’re all expecting to see you that way for Christmas next month too,” she added.

I wanted to say something.  Anything!  I think my mouth worked, but nothing came out.  Too late, Kimmie kept going.

“So Gramps,” she said softly as she rested her forehead against mine.  “I need you to learn how to act more like a baby than ever.  I need you to get used to it so you’ll have no trouble while you’re up there.  Especially around the entire family.  And Gramps, that’s going to have to include everyone, even Uncle Mike and Aunt Marie’s kids.”

It was one unimaginable thing on top of another.  The kids!  My son Michael’s two kids.  I think their names were Ben and Emily, but I wasn’t sure.  It’s hard to remember so many names.  But Ben had to be only about three years old, and I was sure that Emily had turned one shortly before Ruthie died.  The others well, they were all Kimmie’s age or older.  I thought anyway.  As I said, it’s hard to remember the details about so many people.  At least it was for me.

Could I go up there like I was?  Could I go up and act like a total fool…I mean baby, in front of all my kids and grandkids?  The thought simply wouldn’t register in my mind.

Kimmie kissed my cheek, then looked me straight in the eyes.  She held that position until I was looking straight into her eyes.  “Like I said Gramps, this is important for me.  More than you’ll ever know.  So whether you like it or not, I’m ready to force you to do it, so get used to the idea.  Besides, just remember, everyone up there already knows all about you.  And everyone up there is already expecting you to show up dressed and acting like a baby girl.  And I know some of them up there are even looking forward to it.”

I shook my head.  “That’s hard to believe.”

“I know,” she said, “but it’s true.  In fact, Mom decided she really is going to hold a baby shower for you while we’re there.  Won’t that be fun?”

I was aghast.  “A….”

Sitting on my lap, could Kimmie feel that I was wetting…soaking my diaper?

 

Gramps - Chapter 18

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 18

 

Ah, the pleasures of clothes.  Ah, the pleasure of wearing comfortable shoes.  Ah, the priceless pleasure of secretly wearing a diaper under those clothes, especially when it’s a little bit wet.  Um…not so much pleasure when it’s got a mess inside of it too.  That part I could certainly do without.

As usual, Kimmie and I left the house again on Sunday to do our weekly grocery shopping.  Were we becoming too set in our routine?  Too predictable?  I’m sure the people who did their weekly shopping at the same time and place we did were sick of seeing us there.  And believe me, they couldn’t miss us.  Not to mention, I was starting to see that recognition on the faces of many of the people we saw.

Once again Kimmie had dressed me in a skirt outfit.  This time though, the skirt was one that I had bought the day before, and believe me, it was a very short skirt outfit.  The other skirt she had made me buy was just as short.  I was also wearing a pair of those silly, frilly, sissy socks and those little girl shoes instead of heels.  No hair ribbons, but from somewhere she found a few plastic hairclips that she managed to stick in my hair.  Dumb!  But at least they weren’t as noticeable as the ribbons.

Twice while we were there I had the distinct displeasure of hearing those fateful words, “Hi Miss Kim.”  Students.  Girls as usual.  Ugh!  Fortunately, both times the girls simply said hi, told Kimmie how funny I looked.  Laughed over me a bit, then moved on.  Yeah, while they did it, sucking on my pacifier was more important to me than ever.

The drink aisle was one of the most important parts of the store for Kimmie.  I guess since she was a phys ed teacher, she had a thing for sports drinks.  I guessed that she thought they were at least somewhat nutritious, plus, she seemed to love the way they tasted.  Trust me, every week we loaded the bottom of the cart with plenty of them.  The biggest problem for me with them was that so many of them wound up in my baby bottles every day, and those drinks kept me peeing too much.  So much, that I barely realized I was doing it anymore.

Don’t ask me why I did it.  I know now that I shouldn’t have, but at the time it just happened.  I made the mistake of pulling my baby pacifier from my mouth and asking, “Do we have to buy so many every week?”

Kimmie looked at me.  “What are you complaining about?  We share the costs of everything, plus, you wind up drinking a lot of these things too.  And you know they’re a lot better for you than soda.  And Gramps, I’m not buying you beer!”

Oh, the stupid things that come out of my mouth.  “Yeah,” I said, “but I drink too many of those drinks every day, and it all winds up in my diaper.”

She looked at me strangely, then kept stocking the cart with the usual overly generous amount.  I stuck my baby pacifier back in my mouth without being told.  End of that story…I guessed wrongly.

The baby aisle was a few aisles later.  We didn’t usually buy anything there anymore.  But Kimmie seemed to be spending more time than usual looking at things.  This time however I was surprised when she grabbed another baby bottle and stuck it in the cart.  I groaned, my groan however came out more as, “Mmmm,” because of that darn baby pacifier.  That would make six baby bottles I would have to get through every day now.

I was more surprised to note that Kimmie was continuing to look at things there.  I think all the time she spent looking at baby food was only meant to tease me…I hoped.  I was grateful when she didn’t buy any.  But then she suddenly looked back at me behind the cart.  “You think you drink too much of those good sports drinks?”

I pulled my paci out.  “Yes!” I told her.

She nodded.  “No problem,” she said.  Then I watched as she plucked a large can of powdered baby formula from the shelf, and with great delight, and a look of absolute wickedness in her eyes, put it in the cart.  Oh yeah, I should have kept my big mouth shut!

Oh, and yes, Kimmie made me carry that stupid purse of mine all over the store too.  And this time, instead of her paying for the groceries since she was the adult, she gave me the pleasure of pulling my credit card from my purse and paying.  I think the cashier got a big kick out of seeing me do that.  As for me, I was simply embarrassed.

Once again when we got home, I was pleasantly surprised to realize that she wasn’t going to make me remove my skirt so my diaper would be on display.  Even after changing me in the afternoon, she kept me dressed just as I was.  I didn’t dare let on that once again I was in absolute heaven.  As far as Kimmie was concerned, I wanted her to think I hated it!  Please don’t tell her otherwise.

That day though, there were two more weird changes to my life.

“Gramps,” Kimmie said that afternoon, shortly after she finished changing me out of my overly messy diaper.  “You don’t get enough rest for someone your age.”

I was shocked.  So shocked I pulled the plug from my mouth.  “Kimmie, you’re putting me to bed at eight-thirty every night now.  I get a lot more sleep than I used to.  Too much sleep.”

She shook her head.  “No Gramps.  Someone your age should really be taking a nap every afternoon.”

“But I don’t need…”

“Gramps!” she cut me off quickly.  “Babies need naps every day.  At least one.”

Babies?  I thought she was talking about me being as old as I am.  I mean as old as I really was.  Sixty-nine.  But it seemed she wasn’t.  Like it or not, I got put to bed shortly after my afternoon diaper change, and she herself stuck that dumb soft bear under my arm so I could hold it and “love on it.”  Yeah right.  A couple of minutes later, she brought me another bottle of warm milk to “help me sleep.”

I didn’t exactly sleep, but I did lay there for what seemed like an eternity.  I know it took the usual amount of time for me to drink that bottle of warm milk, but that time it seemed like I managed it far too quickly.  With my bottle done and nothing to do, since I couldn’t sleep, I debated if I should just get out of bed.  In fact, I was just about to get up, when Kimmie walked back into my room.

“Still awake?” she said in a soft whisper.

“I can’t sleep,” I told her.  “I’m getting up.”

“No!  Stay!  I’ll tell you when you can get out of that bed.”  She came over and grabbed my baby bottle from the nightstand, then she stuck my pacifier back in my mouth.  “Hold your teddy bear Gramps.  Cuddle with him and try to sleep,” she whispered.  “Love you.”  With that, she walked out.

Stay in bed?  Cuddle the bear?  She was nuts!  How many times had I realized that fact?  How many times had I seen the proof of it for myself?  Too many times to count!  I spent an eternity laying there with that pacifier in my mouth, trying to figure out why I wasn’t just getting out of bed, despite what Kimmie wanted.  The biggest reason?  Something about what she was doing with me struck a chord of excitement within my brain.  She was treating me like a toddler.  Like a baby.  And yes, I didn’t want her to know it, but it was fulfilling my fantasies.  And then there was the other reason I stayed in bed.  The bigger reason.  I was afraid of what she might do to me if I disobeyed.  Thoughts of having the inside of my nose crushed to death and being semi-permanently attached by my nose to that corner came to mind.  Just remembering those punishments had me wetting my diaper in fear.

So I stayed in bed and took a nap.  I just didn’t sleep.  Uh…it was a while before I realized I was still holding that stupid bear.  When I did realize it, I tossed it aside.  A few minutes later, I grabbed it again.  It wasn’t exactly hurting anything, and I needed the comfort as images of being attached by my nose to the corner kept playing in my imagination.  I hugged the bear, and sucked my pacifier, and as I mentioned, wet my diaper.

An hour!  A full hour!  That’s how long Kimmie kept me laying uselessly in that bed.  I know because I checked the clock often.  I also fumed at how long she was keeping me there.  But don’t think she left me completely alone.  I  barely noticed it, but I saw her just peek in at me a few times, so she knew I was still in bed.  She also knew I was wide awake.  Yet still, she kept me there.  A full hour!  It felt like forever.

Finally though, she came back and let me out of bed.  I can’t tell you how glad I was.  Except, as I was getting out of bed she said, “Gramps, don’t stand up.”

Huh?  I sat on the side of the bed and just looked at her.  I was aware for once that I was sucking my pacifier.  Very often I didn’t even realize it was in my mouth anymore.

“I want you to get down on the floor instead,” she told me.

I started to ask a question, but I got no more than, “Eh,” out of my mouth before I realized it was too full of baby pacifier to say anything.  I started to remove the thing, but Kimmie was quicker.

“No Gramps.  Don’t argue.  Don’t ask.  Just get down on the floor…and stay there.”

Instead of getting down, I pointed at the floor.

“Yes,” Kimmie replied to my non-asked question.  “On the floor.  I know you think it’s not the best place for someone your age to be, but trust me, it’ll be fine.  And if you need help getting up later, you know I’ll help you.  So go Gramps.  Down.  Now!”

I didn’t know why she wanted me on the floor.  Perhaps just to make me crawl around like a baby, which I realized would be hell on my knees.  I carefully let my body slip off the side of the bed as I lowered it to the carpeted floor.

“Now you can come out to the living room,” she said.  “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

A surprise?  And obviously I was right, she did want me to crawl around like a baby.  Ugh!  My poor knees.  I saw her grab my teddy bear from the bed before she walked out.  As for me, I crawled out…slowly and carefully.  Yeah, at my age, crawling is not the greatest activity in the world, but it can certainly be done.  One really good thing about being on the floor though, I didn’t have to worry so much about falling.  If I fell, how far could I go?  A whole nowhere.  I was already down.  Falling, a real fear for someone my age, including for me, was now impossible.

Once I got to the living room though, it took me no time to spot the “surprise.”  There was a large, colorful…something on the floor that was obviously made for a young toddler to play with.  I recognized it as whatever had been in that big box she had decided on in the toy store the day before.  It looked like now she wanted me to actually play with the thing…whatever it was.

“Look how pretty it is,” Kimmie said excitedly as she set my teddy bear down next to it.  “See how colorful.”

Yeah, it was certainly that?  I just wasn’t sure what else it was because it seemed to have a lot of parts.

“Don’t you just want to play with it and see what it can do?”

Nope!  Somehow, I didn’t think that was exactly the answer Kimmie would be looking for though.  I rolled my eyes…

“Don’t roll your eyes at me Gramps!” Kimmie said sternly.  “Now crawl over there like a good baby and start playing.”

I felt so stupid!  But I made my way over on my painful hands and knees.  Once there, I sat on the floor and stared at the…contraption.  I noticed a lot of buttons on the base of the thing.  Some shaped like stars, some shaped like moons, and some big ones that were like fat piano keys.  But that was just the base of the unit.  Two fat round columns on each side suspended a bar between them that was filled with colorful…uh…shapes that I guess I…I mean a kid…okay, me…I could spin around or something.  I guessed.  I wasn’t entirely sure about the purpose of stuff that could spin like that.  In fact, I wasn’t sure about the purpose of anything about the…um…contraption.

“Now play with it,” Kimmie told me.  I noticed a hint of excitement in her voice.  Why?

Play with it?  As I stared at the thing, I wondered if it would be better if I just went back and took another nap.  I wasn’t sure which was the better option, nap or…that thing.  But the nap option had already been done and was now out of the equation, which left…that…whatever it was.  I looked up questioningly at Kimmie.

“Play!” she urged…or ordered.  I’m not sure which.  Then she followed it up with, “And act interested for a change.  It won’t kill you.  It won’t even hurt you.  And who knows, you just might have some fun.  In fact, I want you to try to have fun.  I want you to really enjoy it.  This toy is you Gramps.  A baby.  And babies like to explore things.  Especially big colorful things like this.  See what it can do Gramps, and have some fun.”

Fun?  Did she realize I was in reality sixty-nine years old?  Did she realize that someone at my age no longer knew how to play…let alone play with something like that.  Didn’t she realize that actual baby concepts were no longer even comprehensible to someone of my age?  I guess not.

I was skeptical, but I tentatively reached out and pressed one of the big fat keyboard keys to see what it would do.  I heard a cow moo.  I looked up at Kimmie.

“Keep playing,” she told me.  “And don’t stop until I say you can stop.  Got it?  Stay there and play.”

With that, she walked off toward the kitchen, and I was left alone with…the Frankenstein of all toddler toys.

“I don’t hear you playing!” Kimmie’s voice called from the kitchen.

I reached out and touched another of those fat keys.  A chicken clucked.  Oh goody.

I started pushing buttons and was shortly flabbergasted by the number of different things that stupid looking thing could do.  Some of the buttons controlled the fat buttons and changed the sounds to musical pitches.  Others changed the keys so they produced either saying things, or like one did, emitted laughter.  I accidentally bumped one of the spinning shapes and heard a tiny tingling sound.  Darn, even the spinning thingies on top made noise.  All of them different.

I am not going to admit this, but I explored that thing for a good five to ten minutes, marveling at all the sounds and abilities someone had packed into the thing.  But after that bit of experimentation, I was finished.  I already knew now what it could do.  Once you reach that point, you don’t need to explore things any further.  Didn’t I hear once that kids had a short attention span?  Well, I wasn’t a kid, not really, but my attention span with that thing had run out!

I did nothing but sit and stare at the thing, then stare at the TV that I’d much rather be “playing with,” like from the confines of my comfy chair, including my nice soft fleece blanket that I liked to throw over me.

“I said play!” Kimmie’s voice came sternly.

I looked up to see her standing at the entrance to the kitchen, watching me.

“And keep playing!” she threatened.

Ugh!  How?  How do you play?  Especially with something like that.  I reached out and pressed something, and a childlike voice asked me, “Isn’t this fun?”  Nope!  Not in the least.  Since Kimmie seemed to be watching, or more likely listening so closely for what I was doing, I reached out and my finger spun one of the colorful shapes.  It emitted a whistling noise.  What fun.  What fun.  What fun.  Nope, I wasn’t bored to death.  I was already dead.

Darn Kimmie kept me on the floor, “playing” uselessly, until I suddenly heard an old familiar ding.  “Video time!” Kimmie’s voice announced.  I was just happy to be able to stop mindlessly touching that awful monster of a toy.  Trust me, I was more than anxious to get to my feet, which I did with no assistance from her, although she hovered over me, ready to help at the least sign that I needed it.

I spent a minute trying to poop in my diaper like I did every hour, then I spent the next twenty minutes holding my phone too close to my face while I sucked away on my pacifier.  If I thought I was bored playing with that lousy toy, it was nothing like I felt then.  First bored playing on the floor, then bored videoing my face for Kimmie’s amusement.  I was bored to death.

As soon as the video time was done with, Kimmie found me and said, “Exercise time Gramps.  Get your sneakers on.”

Sneakers.  The pink sneakers that were still bright pink, but after walking around the yard so many times now were nowhere near as bright (or clean) as they used to be.  Still, I was very happy to stop doing so many extremely boring things and do something else for a change, even if it meant having to wear myself out walking the yard with her.

A few minutes later, I was wearing my bright pink sneakers, and…I discovered that somehow Kimmie’s rapidly failing brain had slipped yet another important cog.  Before heading out the door, she pressed that teddy bear into my hands.

“Here Gramps,” she said.  “Hold this while we walk.  I’m sure you’ll like that.  All little girls like to carry their dolls and stuffed animals around with them.”

The question now arose in my head – should I hit her, or just throw the stupid teddy bear at her?  I did neither of course.  Bear in hand, I walked more than one and a half laps around the yard, finally having to trek the length of the yard back to the house.  I wasn’t breathing as heavy as I used to, but trust me, my legs were very tired by then.  Or were my legs worn out from having to sit on the floor and “play” with that stupid baby toy for so long?  Oh!  Of course…I was so worn out because I had to bear the weight of a bear in my arms while I walked.  Do you know how much a bear weighs?  A lot.  It’s amazing I managed it.  No matter the reason, I was done in.

Shortly after getting back in the house, Kimmie announced that dinner was ready, and I soon realized that the cog that had broken in her brain had done more damage than I thought.  Instead of putting that stupid teddy bear down so I could eat, she insisted that I keep it with me all through dinner.

“You need to learn to hold things like that more.  Keep it with you,” she told me.

She had to be kidding.  Keep it with me?  Why?

Um…do you have any idea how awkward it is to try and keep a teddy bear in your lap while you’re trying to eat, and not let it drop on the floor?  Yeah, I dropped the thing twice, and both times, instead of me picking it up, Kimmie got up and picked it up for me, as if I was really a baby.  And each time, she seemed to take great delight in handing it back to me so I could hold it while I was still trying to eat.

You want to know the strangest thing?  It wasn’t having to drink my milk from a baby bottle while I ate.  No, I did that all the time lately.  But having to hold onto that soft stuffed animal like that, at the table, while eating, seemed to make me feel smaller than ever.  Yeah, me, sixty-nine years old, felt like a stupid toddler.  All because of a dumb teddy bear.

I wet my diaper just thinking about that.

That night, when Kimmie put me to bed, I was shocked when I put the baby bottle to my lips and began drinking.  I almost spit out the milk…which I realized wasn’t milk at all.  It was baby formula.  Warm baby formula.  Guess what I got every night from that point on.  Formula!  I didn’t enjoy going to bed nearly as much anymore.

 

Gramps - Chapter 17

 

Gramps

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 17

 

Life is a series of forks in the road.  Decisions that have to be made.  Paths to be decided on.  According to the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, if you don’t know where you want to go, what difference does it make which path you take?  But of course, the truth is that it can make a lot of difference.

Months ago now, before Kimmie came to live with me, I made a decision as to which path I wanted to take, now look where that path had led me.  Was it the right path, or not?  I absolutely wasn’t certain.  Yes, there were things I liked…loved actually, but there were also a lot of things I didn’t want.  Too many things I didn’t want.  Things that scared me.  And those things seemed to be increasing in number.

I no longer seemed to have any choice at all as to which fork in the road I could take.  Kimmie had managed to take all that away from me.  She was the one in charge and I had no choice but to go along with her in whichever direction she decided to go.  Did she have some kind of map she was following to get us somewhere?  I often wondered, but never asked.  Did she have some kind of goal in mind?  Some final destination that we might eventually reach?  Again, I was too afraid to ask.  I just followed whichever way she decided to turn.  Whichever path she decided to take.

Maybe it was just that I was old and she was young and had more energy to make those decisions than I did.  I don’t know.  It was her journey, but more than that, it was my journey too.  Our journey together.

The change was subtle.  Slow.  Maybe it wasn’t so much a change as a shift.  I’m not certain, but the differences were there.  I didn’t even realize it was happening for a while, but eventually things were different enough that I couldn’t help but notice.  And as close as I can come, it all started somewhere around the first week of November.

I was sitting in my chair again, watching TV, happy for that rare opportunity when I wouldn’t be disturbed for a few precious minutes.  But I was disturbed.  By Kimmie.  As she had done a number of times before, she was suddenly there, forcing herself into my lap.  I pulled the plug from my mouth, knowing she wanted to talk.  I could only hope it was about ending this farce of a life I was now living.  Nope!  Not even close.

“Hi Gramps,” she said.  Then she leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“Is this about that pony again?” I asked.

She let out a big exaggerated sigh.  “Gramps!  We need a pony.  We need ponies for both of us.”

“No!  Not a chance.  And that’s final.”

She laughed, then said, “But gramps, just think how much fun it would be to ride, especially if your diapers are soaked and sagging wet, and especially if you’ve got a big load of shit in the back of them.  Don’t you think going for a pony ride in diapers like that would be a load of fun?”

As far as I was concerned, her idea was a load of horseshit!  It also made me queasy just to think about.  “That’s your idea of fun?”

She laughed.  “Gramps, I’d give anything to see you riding a horse in diapers full of shit.”

Believe me, I didn’t know what to say to that.  Fortunately, I knew she was joking…I hoped.  “What do you really want?”

“Would you mind Gramps…Gramps, Gramps, Gramps, my sweet baby Gramps…”

Something told me this was not going to be good.  “Mind what?” I asked suspiciously.

“How would you feel if we cut those baby pacifier videos down to every other hour instead of every hour, but you have to suck for twenty minutes at a time instead?  And I mean suck properly!”

I was surprised.  Having an hour free would be like removing a huge amount of weight from my life.  “How would I feel?” I started to say.

“And not only that,” she continued, “but the pooping thing would go to only once an hour too.”

Again, I was shocked.  “Once?  Every hour?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.  “Twenty minutes of sucking, every other hour, and thirty seconds of pushing, every hour.  And Gramps, you know you can mess your diaper while you’re sitting right there in your chair.  I’ve seen you doing it on the camera videos.”

Yeah, she would see something like that.

“I’d cut it all out completely, “ she continued, “but I don’t want you to start getting lazy, and there’s still a lot of times when I know you’re not sucking that thing properly.  You need to learn Gramps!  Sucking right and pooping and peeing without warning need to become habits for you.  You shouldn’t even have to think about any of it.”

“Habits?” I said.

She gave me another exaggerated sigh.  “Gramps, I check those videos every day pretty thoroughly.  I watch what you do all the time.  I know you well enough now that I can usually tell what’s happening.  Don’t try to tell me you’re not peeing sometimes without knowing you were going to do it.  And don’t try and tell me you don’t sometimes poop the same way.  I can tell Gramps.  I know it’s happening.  But I want it to keep happening, only more.  So I need it all to become a habit for you.  It’s just that…”

“Just what?”

“It’s just that I know all the exercises I make you do are too much.  They’re too often.  You can’t even get any rest.”

“Huh!  That much is certainly true.  It’s driving me nuts.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “It’s too much.  So I want to try cutting back, just a little for now.  If I see signs of progress toward it all becoming more of a habit for you, then I’ll cut back even more.  The more of a habit it all becomes for you, the less you’ll have to work at it.  Okay?”

Not having to do it all so much was more than okay with me.  It was very okay.  I nodded.  “Works for me,” I told her.

“That’s just it,” she replied.  “I’m hoping it will work for you.”  She giggled and bopped me on the nose.  “And Gramps, we really do need to get you a pony.”

Ugh!  Darn woman.

You would think those changes would be huge, and in some ways, they were.  Just that much relief took a lot of the stress from my life.  But the other ways those changes affected me were much more subtle.  Or should that be diabolical?  While I only had to do the sucking thing every other hour now, it was now for twenty minutes at a time.  Kimmie quickly had me start filming myself doing it even when she was there so she wouldn’t have to watch me so closely.  She could just review parts of the video where she wanted to see if I messed up at all.  And trust me, she was quick to notice the slightest mistake.

A few weeks earlier, she had cut those videos back from fifteen minutes to ten.  That had been a huge relief.  But now I was doing it twice that long, which meant I had to concentrate on what I was doing twice as long.  And since I was filming myself close-up, I dared not make a mistake.  After just a few times doing it that way, the task became mindless, whether I wanted it to be or not.  I tried to concentrate on what I was doing, but the monotony of it was simply too much and my mind couldn’t help but wander.  The result was that even when I wasn’t trying to film myself sucking that damn baby pacifier, I found myself doing it properly, even though I really wanted to do it wrong, just to spite Kimmie.

And then there was the other thing, pooping every hour instead of twice an hour.  You would think it wouldn’t make the least bit of difference in me, but as I said before, the change was more subtle than that, and it took me days to realize it.  Yes, there had been a few times when I had pooped in between my half-hourly pooping requirements, but most of the time the shit came out of me while I was having to push it out.  The result was that I was pooping far more often, but less was coming out of me each time.  Don’t kid yourself, the end result was always a huge load in my baby diapers when changing time came around – afternoon and evening.

But now I was suddenly only doing the exercise once an hour.  Half as much.  Maybe my body had just gotten used to going more often, I’m not exactly sure, but now I kept finding myself pushing, when I didn’t intend to.  I’d be in the middle of doing something, and all of a sudden I realized I was pushing something out into my diaper, even though it wasn’t time.  Hey, in one way it wasn’t a biggie.  I was wearing a diaper anyway and it was going to go in there, like it or not.  But at the same time, it was happening when I wasn’t exactly planning on it.  Kimmie!  That’s not fair!

Somehow, I figured Kimmie considered it all to be fair play.

The next little “shift” in my life occurred a few days after she had sat in my lap.  Kimmie always dressed me for bed at eight o’clock and then let me stay up until nine to watch my TV shows.  But shortly after our latest little talk (about the ponies, remember?), she dressed me for bed like always at eight o’clock, then sent me out to watch TV.  But then at eight thirty, she hauled me right back to the bedroom and put me to bed.

“Nine o’clock is too late for bedtime for babies,” she declared firmly before I had a chance to argue with her.

Yes, I wanted to argue, but I could already see that she was prepared for another of those “which one of us is the baby” discussions, which would only involve me admitting that I was the one who wore the baby diapers.  I would have asked why she didn’t simply put me to bed at eight o’clock as soon as she finished putting my night baby diaper on me, but I was afraid she might actually do it.  In fact, she still might.  I said nothing.  Things were bad enough already.  So my nightly nine o’clock bedtime suddenly became eight-thirty instead.  Trust me, I felt more like a real toddler than ever.

And then there was the other thing.  An even bigger thing.  And it started on a Saturday.  Now remember, Kimmie had been keeping me in high heels for weeks (except for the pink sneakers when we still walked the backyard every day).  But all of a sudden, when she was dressing me to go out shopping, she stuck a pair of white tights on my legs, then hauled out those black patent little girl shoes I had always loved so much.  As she was buckling them onto my feet, my mind suddenly had a thought.  Didn’t I order some new little girl style shoes a while back?  Red ones?  I hadn’t seen any sign of them, so maybe they had never gotten ordered.  Or maybe the order had been cancelled for some reason, like they were out of stock or something.  I tossed it off the moment the black shoes were on me, and I realized once again how much more comfortable they were than the heels.  Especially the pink locking heels.

As embarrassingly as Kimmie always dressed me, especially when she was taking me out of the house, she always let me wear pants of some sort.  Yes, her pants always, not mine.  But they were still pants.  All of a sudden though, I was stepping into a skirt I had never seen before.  I was shocked.  A bit panicked too.  “You want me to wear a skirt?”

“Uh…isn’t it obvious?” she asked as she pulled it up my legs and settled it around my waist.

I searched for something to say about it, but she beat me to it.  “Don’t argue Gramps.  I decide what you wear, not you.”

End of that discussion.  And I never got a chance to say anything about it.

Yes, yes, on top I was still wearing a bra and one of her tops.  That much goes without saying I think, kind of like the diapers.  Sorry, baby diapers.  But once I was dressed that far, Kimmie wasn’t done with me yet.  That day, she again attacked my hair.  By the time I got in the car, I had two matching ribbons in my hair, and they were just as pink as my freshly done fingernails, and just as pink as I’m sure my face was.  Um…maybe not.  I had no doubt my face was bright red.

Kimmie.  What are you doing to me?

What was she doing?  She took me shopping.  But this time, she seemed to be more interested in me than her.  Once again we went to the mall.  It was a completely different experience for me walking around in a skirt instead of pants.  A huge difference.  I was far more embarrassed than ever.  And the ribbons in my hair didn’t exactly help matters either.  The way she did it, was I supposed to look like a little girl?  Ha, ha!  Big laugh!

Why did the mall have to be so big?  Why did we have to stroll around so slowly looking at things, most of which we had seen on previous trips?  Why did Kimmie have to enjoy shopping so much?  I guess these are among the essential questions of life that everyone has to ask at some point.  I asked myself those things every week.

She dragged me into one of the big department stores.  No, of course we didn’t wander anywhere near the men’s department.  Women’s and girl’s things instead.  Oh, and she looked at some of the baby clothes too.  Was she considering getting pregnant with that boyfriend of hers?

“Oh look!” she said suddenly.

I didn’t want to, but I looked anyway.  She was pawing her way through a stack of…something.  And I wasn’t sure what they were, except the material appeared to be soft fleece, and that said same material was completely covered in girly cartoon characters and flowers.  I wanted to ask what they were, but my baby pacifier was in the way.  And then she pulled one out and held it up, letting the entire thing unfold.  And it was long.  Body length!  And I finally figured out what it was – some kind of footed pajamas, all one piece.  And then she turned to me and held it up to my shoulders to check the length.  “Gramps,” she said excitedly.  “This should help keep you warm at night.”

I was speechless, even with that plug in my mouth.  Kimmie grabbed the thing and draped it over her arm, so she could buy it before we left the store.  Wonderful.

A few minutes later, Kimmie found something else to hold her interest.  Socks.  Big deal, you say?  They were for Kimmie.  Like shoes, Kimmie loved socks.  She often wore them around the house without shoes.  And trust me, she had quite a collection, many of them…uh…strange.  But this time, she was fixated on the kind of socks I was afraid wouldn’t be for her, but for me instead.  By that, I mean the fancy little girl style with the turned down top that ended in ruffles and lace.  The darling kind that girls and women all seemed to go nuts over because they were pretty.  You know what I mean.  Sissy socks.

Pluck…one pair.  Pluck…two pairs.  Pluck…  When we checked out, I bought myself those footed flannel sleepers and five pairs of socks I figured I’d have no use for at all.  I had no use for them, but I had no doubt that Kimmie had other ideas.  Believe me, I was happy for once to get out of that store and back into the concourse…uh…where a whole lot more people could see me.  Maybe it would have been better to stay in the store and keep shopping there.

Shop, shop, shop…in a skirt.  Lunch, lunch, lunch…in a skirt.  Go everywhere, do everything…in a skirt.  I wanted to scream at the way everyone was looking at me.  Maybe it wasn’t the skirt.  Maybe it was the hair ribbons.

At the other end of the concourse was another of those big department stores.  As always, in we went and looked at…stuff.  But oh, the stuff that Kimmie found to look at.  Um…how shall I put this.  Yes, I bought and paid for something else before we got back to the concourse, and Kimmie was absolutely delighted with it, even though it had me practically wanting to throw up.  Once we left the store, Kimmie stopped and had me pull that something from the bag.  She grabbed my wallet and my cellphone from her purse, and put them in MY purse, which she then handed to me to carry.  Why did she look so happy and satisfied?  I certainly wasn’t.

“Hook it over your arm Gramps.  It’ll be a lot easier to carry,” she suggested.

Yeah right!

From downstairs to upstairs.  Too many levels, too many stores.  One of which she usually passed by, but guess what, not this time.  In we went…into the toy store.  Um…we didn’t exactly go to the section of games for older kids or adults.  Nope!  You guessed it.  Toys for tots.  Like me I guessed.  Most particularly, toys for little girls.  And when I say little, I mean little.  Two years old or less.

“Gramps, look!” she said, pointing toward an entire area filled with stuffed animals.  “Go find yourself a stuffie.  And make sure it’s nice and soft.  Really soft.”

I pulled the paci from my mouth.  “Stuffie?”

“Stuffed animal dummy,” she explained.  “And put that dummy back in your mouth…dummy.”

Ugh!  Pick one out?  Myself?  As I wandered in that direction, I realized she wasn’t coming with me.  She was still back there looking in the age two and under area.  I looked at all the stuffed animals, and there was a lot.  What did I want?  None of them.  But Kimmie had said…yeah, yeah.  It was her path we were on, not mine.  So what did I want?  Maybe it was just that I wasn’t so used to making decisions anymore, but it took me a long time to pick out a simple light brown teddy bear.  Holding it though, I can tell you for sure that it felt soft.  Very soft.  I looked for Kimmie to show her, but she was nowhere around.  Had she left me?

I found her two aisles away, still looking at toys, but she had some kind of large colorful box in her hands.  “Find something?” she asked.

I showed her the simple teddy bear I had decided on.

“Nice Gramps,” she told me.  “But you could have found something a bit more colorful.  But this is fine…for now.”

For now?

Yeah, my credit card made another appearance, but this time I pulled it out of my own damn purse.  And I put it back into my own damn purse too.  And just the thought of doing that had me wetting my diaper!  Despite not drinking as much as usual, I could literally feel it starting to sag between my legs.

And then the phone in my purse dinged.  Kimmie hauled me out to a bench in the concourse and had me sit and suck my baby pacifier for twenty minutes…while she went into another store to shop.  And yes, everyone looked at me even more amazed at what they were seeing when they realized I was filming myself sucking my baby pacifier.  I guess I would be pretty amazed to see that too…if it was someone else.

Not twenty minutes, but half an hour later, we were off strolling the mall and shopping again.  By the time we left the mall my credit card had a few more purchases on it that I didn’t want at all.  When we got back to the car, I loaded my bags into it.  A teddy bear.  Some kind of huge box that held some kind of “thing” for toddlers to play with.  A footed sleeper.  Five pairs of fancy socks.  And the newest items we had just purchased, two more skirts and…yes…here it comes…a dress!  I could just scream!  Um…my purse I kept on my arm.

In the past, as soon as we got home from those ridiculous outings that Kimmie forced on me, she always made sure that I removed whatever pants were covering up my diaper so she could see it.  I expected her to tell me to get the skirt I was wearing off, and the white tights too.  But she didn’t.  Had she forgotten?  Or was she simply too thrilled with the way she had dressed me that day?  I warred in my head with asking her about it, but decided not to say anything for two reasons.  First, for once my diaper wasn’t fully on display.  Despite the things I was wearing, I was more properly dressed.  And the second reason I said nothing…um…you know what it is.  That damn plug in my mouth.  I guess as far as Kimmie was concerned, silence really is golden.

I couldn’t believe it.  All day long, Kimmie kept me dressed that way, even after she changed my diaper…baby diaper at two o’clock.  And I was happy.  Ecstatic really.  Not only was I dressed, but it was all the stuff of my wildest dreams.  From the ribbons in my hair, to the nail polish, to the skirt, to the white tights, and down to the black Mary Jane shoes on my feet.  And of course, we can’t forget the diaper I was wearing under it all.  My dream outfit.  And Kimmie was keeping me in it.

I was even happy spending twenty minutes every other hour filming myself sucking on the baby pacifier.  Although after which, I realized about another twenty minutes later that I was still sucking properly.  Each time I realized that though – chomp!  Down went my teeth to chew on it.  Take that Kimmie!

Somehow, and don’t ask me how, but that dumb teddy bear I had bought earlier that day wound up in bed with me.  Who could have possibly put it there?  Hint…it wasn’t me.  I suddenly had a new sleeping companion.  At least he wouldn’t snore and keep me awake.  I hoped.  And as for it being a he, was he?  Or it?  Or…her?  Or…what the heck sex is a teddy bear anyway?  I had no clue.  It did give me something to ponder as I drank my warm baby bottle before going to bed…at eight thirty.

No, I didn’t hold the bear in my arms when I went to sleep later.  In fact, I pushed it out of the way…and dreamed about how I had been dressed all day long.  The stuff of my dreams, became the stuff of my dreams.