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.