Co-authored with Mistress Janice
Andrew stood silently in the corner, awaiting the return of his mother.
He wondered just how things became so crazy that his mother changed his
status into that of a young child. She had acted so proud of him when
the party started. She had told all of his relatives how well he had
done in high school and enumerated the honors he'd won with relish. Now
he was forced to stand in the corner for his misdeeds like a
preschooler. He squirmed and huffed, but to no avail. He quieted as he
remembered she had the intercom turned on and remembered her warning.
"She wouldn't, would she?", he asked himself.
He heard footsteps and the sound of running water coming from the
bathroom and wondered what was going on in his absence. "But what's she
in there for?", he asked himself.
He fidgeted peevishly, becoming more irritable as the medication he had
taken unknowingly took effect. He drowsily realized that his limbs were
starting to feel heavy and lethargic. He wanted to be bright and
energetic, instead his eyelids drooped and threatened to close
altogether. He remembered the glass of warm milk his mother had given
him a half hour before. "It must have been that damn warm milk!", he
thought to himself sleepily.
The door swung open and his mother came into the room. Andrew jumped a
bit as the door banged on the stop on the wall and she laughed, saying,
"Well! Has my naughty boy stayed in his wittel corner as he was told?
Now come with me, you need a thorough cleaning. Mommy is going to make
sure you're clean from the top of your head to bottom of your toes.
She's going to clean you from your insides out too!"
Andrew turned towards his mother Libby and looked at her in horror as he
realized the implications of what she had said. His mother was about six
inches shorter than he was, but she seemed to tower over him in his
imagination. Her firm maternal voice brooked no dispute over what she
planned to do with him. She had a will of iron and was always in control
of every situation regarding the welfare of her family. Fear clouded his
face as he said, "Please Mom, not that! I'm sorry! Please don't ..."
Libby looked down on her son scornfully, saying, "It's too late to
apologize, little boy. Your behavior was reprehensible. I gave you a
chance at a lesser punishment and you would have none of it. You let
your big mouth get you into trouble and you think you can sweet talk
your way out of your punishment? I think not!"
Andrew began pleading, "Please Mom! Oh no, don't......"
Libby smiled now and glared at him. "You acted like a spoiled little
brat, Andrew. I told you to stop arguing and you ignored me. The second
time I told you that I would make you take a timeout and you continued
despite what I had told you before about arguing. When you told me that
you weren't going to take a timeout and I had to drag you up to your
room, you sealed your fate. I think you wanted to see how far you could
go before I punished you for your childish behavior. Well, this is your
answer, little boy. It won't do any good to beg Mommy for mercy. Mommy
is very angry with you!"
She grabbed a hank of his long hair and bent him over to waist height
before she dragged him into the large lady's bathroom off of the master
bedroom. The pale rose walls of the bathroom were accented by the deeper
rose of the marble fixtures and gave the room a distinctly feminine
ambiance. The room had the aroma one would expect of a bathroom used
exclusively by a woman. The decor was in stark contrast to the other
bathroom attached to the master bedroom. Her husband's bathroom had its
doorway on the other side of the master bedroom next to the entrance to
the spare bedroom and was decorated in deeper reds with the mock velvet
fleur de lis accents of the Edwardian period and white woodwork to give
the impression of cleanliness. She led him to a stop and let him
straighten up while she turned off the tap on the tub. In front of him
awaited a pink marble garden tub full of frothy strawberry-scented
bubble bath.
Originally the spare bedroom had been planned as a nursery for Libby's
next baby, but her husband had died of leukemia before she could realize
her dream. All she had left of her husband was his considerable fortune
and their two children. Andrew was old enough to go to college and
planned to go to Harvard like his father. He had graduated high school
early and was taking an extended vacation before starting the long grind
through college and graduate school. June was only a year younger, but
she had entered school early and gone through at the same time as her
older brother. There had always been intense competition between them
for their mother's approval. Andrew's extra year of maturity had given
him the edge he needed to graduate early. He had gone to summer school
to get the additional credits he needed to get his diploma before the
rest of his class. Libby had been so proud of him she had agreed to let
him take a vacation before he went to college as a reward for all his
hard work. June had just graduated and planned to attend Stevens at the
same time Andrew went to Harvard.
The two of them had been a handful since the day they were born.
Although she knew she would miss taking care of her babies when they
went away to college, she thought she would welcome the peace and quiet.
They hadn't gotten along with each other since they were little babies.
First it was Andrew, the eldest, who had been the troublemaker. He had
started acting jealous of his sister since the day he was weaned. And
when she had weaned his sister, June, she had started misbehaving too.
"Maybe if I had waited and weaned them later, I wouldn't have had this
problem," she told herself often. "But it's too later to go back and do
anything about it. I'll just have to do the best I can with them the way
they are," she would conclude in exasperation.
Libby slapped his hands away and quickly stripped him as if he was a
helpless toddler needing a bath. She reached into the linen closet and
took out her work apron. With all the servants they had, Andrew hadn't
seen her wear it very often since his childhood. She put the strap over
her head and tied the strings behind her before she began with him. It
was a sign that his mother really meant business. Andrew resolved to
give her as little trouble as possible. His mother could be frightening
when she was on the warpath. Libby helped him into the garden tub and
made him stand quietly while she lathered him completely. The sunken
marble tub made him two feet shorter than his mother and put his eyes at
a level just below her bosom.
The apron his mother had donned didn't help his self image any either,
it reminded him of how she had dressed to give him a bath when he was a
child and made him feel like he was little boy again. He tried to hide
his male pride, but she slapped his hands away. "No need to cover your
little pee-pee, Andrew," she said, "Mommy's seen it many times since you
were a baby. There's no point in hiding it from me."
Andrew groaned inwardly as he was made to sit and soak for awhile to
allow the bath oils to enter his pores and make his skin silky smooth.
He was beginning to reek like a little girl who had spilled a bottle of
strawberry perfume on herself. Libby stepped out of the bathroom to get
something for his bath, closing the door behind her.
Andrew recalled the incident that had gotten him into trouble. The
morning had been very humid and muggy as the summer air lay over the
estate like a hot, soggy blanket. The temperature had been expected to
climb into the high nineties with no wind to relieve the stifling heat.
The all-day party was scheduled to start at ten am. It was a special
birthday bruncheon for Andrew's seventeen year old sister June. The
presents had been piled on a table in their spacious living room and
June had opened them before they ate. After a semi-formal meal with
cake, the guests were encouraged to use the spare bedrooms to change
into more comfortable clothes and enjoy the amenities of the estate.
There was pool to swim in and acres of well manicured gardens provided
for civilized strolling with lawns for the occasional game of crochet.
For the more athletically inclined, there were exercise facilities and a
private nine-hole golf course. The servants had been instructed to be as
quiet and unobtrusive as possible. Libby liked to maintain the illusion
that she threw her parties with her own efforts and had her servants
maintain a low profile while the party was in progress.
They would come out again after the party and pick up the mess that the
guests had made. In the meantime, they sat in their rooms and watched TV
or played cards together in the pantry. It wouldn't do to be missing if
their mistress needed them. No matter what her instructions were.
Andrew and his younger sister were always at odds with each other. They
spat and argued constantly, frequently incurring their mother's wrath
for their disruptions. June wished she could see her brother humiliated
in front of company by his mother for his attitude like she had done
when they were little. But he behaved so well that their mother seemed
to forget those disciplinary methods that always worked so beautifully
when he was a small child. When she was younger, she would do something
naughty and see that he got the blame. Her mother would punish him with
an early bedtime and she would have the run of the house while he was
confined to his bed taking a nap. She dreamed of somehow turning him
into a toddler again so that she would be his older sister and could
spank him whenever he was naughty or disagreeable. She'd love to be his
babysitter and be able to send him to bed early the way her mother used
to do, but somehow the opportunity never presented itself. She had to
content himself with getting him in trouble as often as she could
without getting caught herself. Of course he always retaliated with some
infantile practical joke to get even with her, but she always seemed to
come out on top. Andrew was simply too nice to do anything really
vicious. June on the other hand, had the killer instinct.
The guests arrived early, including Andrew's lovely girlfriend, Monica.
Monica was dark haired and wore a lovely black velvet dress with white
lace. Andrew thought she looked like a dream. When June saw what Monica
was wearing, she saw her chance to get back at her brother. She had
planned to doctor her brother's drink sometime during the party as a
"special"
birthday present to herself, but the opportunity to get her brother's
girlfriend was too good to pass up. She told her brother to get his
girlfriend a glass of punch, saying that their mother expected him to
take care of their guests since the servants weren't present. After
filling the glass from the punch bowl, Andrew was distracted by an
urgent request from one of the adult guests. He set the glass down on
the table while he looked for some napkins to clean up a spilled drink.
June quietly saddled up next to the punch table and poured a clear,
thick oily liquid into the glass before drifting away unnoticed. Andrew
returned and retrieved the glass before coming back to the place where
his girlfriend was standing. He gave the glass to Monica who eagerly
chugged it down. She started retching and gagging immediately and held
her throat as if she had been poisoned.
"Aaaaaaaaah! What have you done to me Andrew?....Aaaaah!", she demanded
angrily as her stomach tried to regurgitate the drink in self-defense.
Libby came over with several of their relatives and stood in a circle
around the beleaguered girl. , One of the gentlemen present bent over
and picked up Monica's glass that was laying in the grass by her feet.
He was a distant uncle of Andrew's and June's and was a retired
physician. He put the glass to his nose and sniffed gingerly. "Hmmm," he
said, "I don't think she's been poisoned, although I'm sure it tastes
like it. I believe that's castor oil!"
"What?", Monica screamed out in amazed disgust, "Andrew! How could you?"
All eyes were on him as he stood befuddled and wondering how it possibly
could have happened.
He looked confused as he babbled, "But I didn't! I'm sure it couldn't
have been...Unless it was in the bottom of the glass...But I didn't see
anything there...I just left it for a minute...I don't know what
happened...Don't look at me like that!...It wasn't me!...All I did was
pour the punch!...It couldn't have been me!...I mean I didn't..."
Libby looked at her son disgustedly. "You're always playing pranks on
your sister like a naughty little schoolboy, Andrew. Now you're doing it
to Monica. You never learn, do you? Aren't you ever going to grow up?
What possible reason could you have to make you want to have your poor
girlfriend spend most of the day in the lady's room?"
Andrew looked around and saw the cold, angry glares he was getting from
the outraged guests. He glanced around for a sympathetic face and saw
nothing but condemnation in the angry visages around him. He quailed at
his mother, "But I didn't do it! You gotta believe me! It was probably
June. Why she...
"
Libby took charge at this point, saying, "Silence, Andrew! How dare you
argue with me front of my friends? I think you need a time-out for your
childish behavior. You're acting like a naughty six year old. You'd
never know you're eighteen from the way you're behaving. Now apologize
to Monica and get yourself upstairs this instant. I want you to take off
your clothes and get into bed. I'll be up later to talk to you. In the
meantime, I want you to think about the horrible thing you did to your
girlfriend while you're lying in bed. NOW MARCH!!!"
Andrew stared at the wall clock, the minute hand had just passed twelve
and the hour hand was on eleven. She intended to send him to bed at
eleven am.
He refused to be humiliated by being treated like a small child in front
of all the guests and he replied, "No way, mom!"
A quick slap from Libby shocked him long enough for her to grab a
handful of Andrew's long hair and bend him to her will. He was
unceremoniously marched to the stairs amidst the cheering of friends and
relatives. "Go to your room and remove all your clothes, then stand in
the corner," his mother ordered, "I'll be up shortly! Now march!"
Andrew ran up the stairs fleeing from the jeers of the scandalized
guests downstairs. As he removed his clothes and went to the corner,
tears of humiliation rolled down his cheeks. He couldn't help but wonder
who had done such an evil thing to his girlfriend. She had looked so
lovely in her dress. That must have be the reason. Someone must be
jealous of his lovely girlfriend.
So he stood there until the door opened and he jumped with a start. His
mother came in and said, "I have something to calm you down, young man.
Now turn around and put your hands behind your back."
He did as he was told and walked slowly towards his mother, deeply
ashamed to be seen in the nude by his mother. She held the glass to his
lips and made him swallow the concoction in the same way that she had
used when she gave him medication as a child. He had difficulty keeping
up with the flow of milk and rivulets of fluid ran down his chin and
dripped off onto his chest the way it had when he was little. It made
him feel like he was drooling. Andrew thought his mother made him drink
the glass that way just to humiliate him further. If he could have just
held his hands out in front of himself to keep his balance, he thought
he would have been able to drink the liquid without making a mess. When
he tasted the liquid, he wanted to retch. It was warm skim milk. He had
always despised milk. Even as a child he had refused to drink it unless
his mother forced him to imbibe the stuff. From what his mother had told
him, he hadn't liked milk since he had been weaned. "Mom knows I hate
milk," he thought, "She must be making me drink this to punish me."
The milk had been laced with a sleeping medication that caused
drowsiness and relaxed the muscles, allowing the patient to fall into a
quiet and restful sleep. He was marched to the corner of the room and
his nose shoved in the angle between the walls before his mother left
the room.
Andrew began to put the pieces of the incident together as he sat in the
tub amid the sweet smelling foam. "It just has to be June," he thought,
"No one else has the balls to do something like that!"
His sister walked in, smiling rather triumphantly. "Monica's in the
bathroom downstairs, Andrew, shitting her stupid brains out!", she
laughed, "Isn't it amazing what castor oil can do to your digestive
system?"
Andrew was appalled. He was right! It had been his sister! He started to
answer her crows of victory, but before he had the chance, she
disappeared from sight and his mother Libby was looking down on him.
Without a word, she took a washcloth from the brass towel rack and
picked up the Oil of Olay beauty bathsoap from the marble tray mounted
over the far side of the tub and began washing him. He cringed as
soapsuds fell down his face as she lathered his face and ears. The soap
got in his mouth and he said, "Mom, that shit is getting into my mouth!"
Whap! His head rocked wetly under the blow his mother delivered. "How
dare you speak like that in front of your mother? You need to be taught
to watch your tongue, young man! June! Get in here immediately!"
His sister bounced in the room and said politely, "Yes, mother? Is there
anything I can get for you?"
"Hand me that bar of ivory soap under the sink, will you please, June?
Your brother has a filthy mouth. I'm going to clean it out for him," his
mother explained.
June got the bar of soap and handed it to her mother. Libby gripped the
bar tightly in her hand and grabbed the hair on the back of Andrew's
head and wound it around her fist. Then she pulled his head back and
ordered, "Open your mouth, Andrew."
Andrew pursed his lips tightly and shook his head as far as his mother's
tight grip allowed. His mother smiled grimly and said, "June, would you
come over and hold your brother's nose for me? He wants to be
difficult."
June came over and gripped his nostrils closed with her thumb and
forefinger. Andrew started to raise his hands to remove June's hand from
his nose, but was stopped by his mother saying, "Andrew! Put your hands
down this instant! Cover yourself! Don't you realize your sister can see
your pee-pee?"
He hastily looked down over his cheeks and saw that his mother was
right, the suds had parted and the water was clear over his crotch. His
sister could see everything! He put his hands down to cover himself as
his face turned red from lack of oxygen. The pressure in his lungs grew
until he thought he was going to explode. Suddenly he opened his mouth
and expelled the waste gases that were forcing him to breathe. His
mother immediately put the bar of ivory in his mouth and began working
it back and forth across his teeth, pushing the bar down so that small
chips and shavings were carved from the bar by the edges of his teeth.
A quiet cough sounded behind the two women and June turned her head to
see a pale and wane Monica standing there behind them. Her eyes were
bloodshot from crying and her mascara had run in dark lines down her
face. Monica looked at June and said weakly, "I was wondering if you
could lend me some underwear to wear? I didn't get to the toilet in time
and mine are a disgrace. I don't think I'll need to go to the bathroom
again until I get home."
"I'd be happy to give you a pair, Monica," June answered, "Just as soon
as we're finished here. Why don't you sit over on the toilet and wait
until we're done?"
"No, thanks. I'd rather stand if you don't mind. I don't cramp as badly
if I stand up. Is that Andrew you have in there? It looks like you're
washing his mouth out with soap," she observed.
"It is," his mother answered, "He started swearing at me while I was
giving him a bath. Would you like to see?"
She pulled his head around so Monica could see his humiliation clearly.
Foam billowed out of his mouth and ran down his chin. His mother
redoubled her grip on his hair and said, "Andrew is sorry for swearing
at his Mommy, isn't he?"
She jerked his head up and down in agreement as if he was a puppet. She
continued saying, "He's sorry he acted like a naughty little boy and put
castor oil in Monica's drink, isn't he?"
Andrew felt his head being nodded in agreement for him by his mother.
"Andrew is going to be a good little boy and do what his mother tells
him, isn't he?", his mother demanded.
Tears of humiliation course down his face as his mother let go and
rinsed her hands in the bathwater. She turned away from him and went to
the medicine cabinet to take some bottles down from the shelf. She took
the glass on the bathroom sink and mixed some liquids from the bottles
with some water from the tap, then came back to Andrew and handed him
the glass.
She said, "Don't rinse your mouth, Andy. Mommy wants you to drink your
medicine, suds and all. Or would you like Mommy to take you out of that
tub and hold you on her lap while she gives you an enema in front of
your girlfriend?"
"I'm not his girlfriend any longer," Monica said in cold rage, "I can
take a joke, but putting castor oil in my drink was vicious. Washing his
mouth out with soap is fine with me. As far as I'm concerned, you can
spank him and dress him in diapers. He's too immature for me."
His mother smiled at Monica's response and said, "Did you hear that,
Andy? It looks like you're all alone in the world now. There's no one
left but your Mommy to take care of you. Now drink your medicine like a
good boy or Mommy will get really angry with you!"
"NOW, ANDY!", his mother demanded.
He drank the vile potion quickly. His stomach roiled when the mixture of
the fluid and the ivory suds hit it. It tasted like his mother had
combined milk of magnesia and castor oil in the glass with an orange
flavored drink.
There was something else in the mixture that tasted medicinal, but he
couldn't identify the taste. He gagged as he poured the last swallow
down his throat. His mother and sister grinned at his sour expression
and Libby explained to his ex-girlfriend as she took the empty glass
from his hand, "I just gave Andy as taste of his own medicine. That
glass had a mixture of diuretics, milk of magnesia, castor oil,
Metamucil and Ducolax in it. I was planning to give him an enema but
your presence here gave me another idea to clean him out. I think your
statement about diapers must have been prophetic. He's going to need
them before the afternoon is out. The suds and everything else in the
drink is going to make it impossible for him to keep from pooping his
pants. He's going to poop himself for days with that mixture. His little
bottom is going to be so sore from pooping that he's going to beg me to
put vaseline on him when I change his diapers."
"Now that, I'd like to see," Monica said enthusiastically. The thought
of seeing him humiliated made her feel a little better and she couldn't
wait to see him helplessly pooping in his diapers.
"And so you shall," agreed his mother. She handed the bar of soap to his
daughter and said to June, "Would you hand me that bottle of baby
shampoo please, Dear?"
June gave her the bottle of shampoo and she worked it into his hair and
washed it thoroughly. She finished rinsing his hair and put the baby
conditioner that June handed her on his hair before giving him the final
rinse. "There you go, baby! All done! Doesn't Mommy's baby feel better
after his bath?"
Andrew blushed hotly at the condescending way his mother was talking to
him in front of his girlfriend. After all, he was eighteen years old,
not a two year old toddler. His mother turned to June and said, "Honey,
would you do me a favor while we get him dried? I need you to get that
large box of Daddy's old clothes out from the top of the closet. Do you
know the ones that I mean? The ones that Daddy wore when he was so sick
before he died.
Take the box to the spare bedroom next to mine and put it on the floor.
If you would, get those things out that your Aunt Sally left while she
was visiting last month with your baby cousin Tommy. They're in the
closet in the spare bedroom. Make up the bed with the sheets you find in
there and put Daddy's things in the empty dresser. Make sure you put the
waterproof plastic mattress protector on the mattress before you put the
sheets on the bed. Then get the baby powder, oil and lotion out of the
bathroom and put them on the dresser. Oh, yes and don't forget the
vaseline! He's going to need it. I'll be in there in a few minutes to
help you."
She turned back to Andrew and said, "Upsydaisy, Baby! Mommy's going to
get you dried off and into some clothes before you have an "accident" in
the tub. First though, Mommy needs to do something. Just stand right
there and Mommy will take care of everything."
Andrew stood reluctantly in front of his mother, trying to turn his back
to hide his shriveled genitals from his ex-girlfriend as he stepped
backwards from the tub. Libby slapped him on his behind and said, "Turn
around, baby boy. You have nothing to hide from anyone. You're only a
little boy and baby boys don't have any sense of modesty."
Monica giggled as he turned around and docilely let his mother cover his
pubic area with shaving gel and shave his crotch with a disposable razor
until it was as smooth as a baby's bottom. She washed the razor out in
the tub and smeared his legs and arms with the gel before she shaved
them. He didn't have any hair on his chest or she would have shaved that
too. After she rinsed the razor again, she coated his upper lip with the
gel. "She's going to shave off my mustache," Andrew thought in alarm. He
begged his mother in a pleading little boy voice, "Mom, please don't!
Pleaaaase! It took me six months to grow my mustache. You know how I
look without it."
"I know exactly how you look without your mustache. You look like a
little boy and that's exactly how you should look. You're too immature
to look like a man. I want everyone to see what a pretty baby face you
have," his mother told him.
She quickly removed his budding mustache with a few swipes of the razor
and rinsed the razor in the tub again. She inspected her work and nodded
approvingly, she had removed all of his facial hair without nicking him.
All the practice she had had shaving her husband's beard while he had
been sick hadn't been wasted. His baby face stared back at hers
sullenly, making her smile at the look of childish displeasure that was
displayed on it. She opened the tub to drain while she dried him with
the towels that Monica handed her. He hung his head like a naughty child
as she worked the corners of the towel into every crevasse. When she
took his scrotum in a fold of the towel and dried it off, he squirmed
like a toddler. She slapped him hard on his fanny and said, "Be still,
Baby! Do you want Mommy to give you a spanking?"
After she was finished, she laid the towel out on the bathroom mat and
ordered, "Sit, Baby! Mommy will be back in a few minutes to take you to
your room. In the meantime, I want you to sit there like a good baby
until Mommy gets back. Do you understand?"
Libby turned to Monica and asked, "Monica, would you watch him while I
get his room ready? It will only take me a few minutes. You have my
permission to slap or spank him if he's naughty."
Monica grinned and said, "I'd be happy to look after him for you."
Andrew blanched at the expression of hatred on her face and tried to
explain to her, "Monica, believe me, it wasn't me. I know who it must
have been. It was...."
Whap! Andrew thought that she almost peeled the skin from his face with
the force of her slap. She glared down at him and yelled, "Silence!
You'll speak when you're spoken to, Baby, and not a moment before. Put
your thumb in your mouth and start sucking before I put you over my
knees and give you a spanking that you'll never forget."
Andrew self-consciously put his thumb in his mouth and began to work on
it slowly. His ex-girlfriend seemed to tower over him as he sat on the
bath mat at her feet. His hairless crotch made him feel like his manhood
had been cut away with the dark curly hairs that his mother had taken so
easily from him. The cold air on his naked skin made his scrotum wrinkle
into a tiny sac and his penis contract into the warmth and security of
his lower abdomen. Only an inch of his pride and joy remained visible.
The testicles that had dangled so proudly from his pubic region before
his bath were drawn up tightly against his body. They didn't look like a
man's genitals after what his mother had done to them. They gave the
strong impression that somehow a baby's wee-wee had be transplanted onto
his body. Suddenly he felt as if he really was a toddler again and his
mother was giving him into the care of a particularly forceful
babysitter. The sensation of being small was heightened by the by his
view of his mother and ex-girlfriend; if he looked straight ahead, all
he could see was their upper thighs. When they turned, he noted that his
eyes were almost exactly level with the tops of their pubic bones. He
estimated that his position on the bathroom floor gave him an effective
height of twenty eight inches. Andrew didn't know that he hadn't been
that small since he was nine months old.
He looked over the knuckles of his thumb-sucking hand and saw how soft
and bare his legs looked without their hair. The delicate odor of
strawberries from his legs accentuated the impression of soft
vulnerability that his view of them gave him. He had been transformed
from a virile college bound graduate to a thumb sucking toddler in the
space of an hour. The thought made him cringe under the women's watchful
eyes. Libby laughed and said, "It looks like you have him well in hand.
I'll be back in a few minutes to get him. In the meantime, Baby, behave
yourself or Mommy will SPANK!"
Twenty minutes later his mother returned and ordered him to stand up.
She took one of his hands in hers and said, "Baby is too young to be
allowed to wander about without holding his Mommy's hand. Come on, your
room is ready for you now."
He started to take his thumb out of his mouth and his mother said, "Who
told you to take your thumb out of your mouth, Baby? You just keep it in
your mouth if you don't want to get a spanking!"
Andrew turned to go left down the hall and was stopped by his mother say
ing, "And just where do you think you're going, Baby? Your room is on
the right."
"Buuh muh rum izz down dere," he objected around his thumb.
"That's my eighteen year old boy's room, Baby. That's not your room.
Your room is next to Mommy's were she can come and change your dirty
dydees when you make a mess in them during the night. Come on, Baby,"
she said, dragging him down the hall and into the spare bedroom.
When he entered the room, he was appalled by the changes his sister and
mother had made in a few minutes in the bedroom. It had been transformed
from a Spartan bedroom to a cheerful baby's nursery in the span of just
twenty minutes. The neutral blue color of the walls had been changed
into a soft baby blue by the mere addition of a few wall decorations of
cartoon characters in diapers. The dresser was topped with various baby
unguents, oil, and powder oil necessary for diaper changes. A bar of
soap with dozens of diaper pins stuck into its surface lay next to the
baby powder. June was standing by the dresser and was just finishing the
dusting of an old nursery lamp she remembered was in storage in the
attic. Andrew vaguely remembered having a lamp like it in his nursery
when he was a toddler. In the same box with the lamp she had found some
old nursery drapes packed in plastic bags that had graced the windows of
their nursery when they were babies. The colors of the patterns were a
little more faded than Andrew remembered, but the motif of dancing bears
with brightly colored balloons was the same as the one in his memory.
The large rocking chair that he had spent so many hours in as a baby was
given a special place of honor in the corner. A nursery comforter was ne
atly folded and draped over the back of the chair. The twin bed had not
been removed, but steel rails had been added to the sides and a sheet
with Buster and Babs Bunny cartoons covered the mattress. When he looked
at the sheet more closely, he realized that the Buster and Babs were
infant versions of the characters; they were wearing diapers! His mother
guided him to the side of the bed and let down the safety rail before
she helped him in the bed. Then she made him pull his knees to his chest
and hold them there while she got something out of the chest of drawers.
She put something thick underneath his bottom and he felt the cold,
slimy vaseline being worked into the crack of his bottom. Monica moved
to the head of the bed and watched his expression closely as his mother
invaded the most private recess of his body. He closed his eyes and
began to heave in silent sobs as his embarrassment overcame him. Monica
brushed his hair from his head as his mother gently pulled his knees
free of his hands and straightened his legs out on the bed before
powdering his crotch. Monica told him gently, "Don't cry, Baby. Your
mommy will have you in your diapers before you know it."
"Diapers?", he wailed and felt a pacifier being forced between his lips
to silence his cries. His sister, June had been waiting for him to say
something so she could give him the final humiliation. He opened his
eyes and looked up into the unforgiving faces of the two young women as
his mother pinned three of the cloth diapers that his father wore during
the last days of his illness over his hips. A minute later his mother
said, "Lift your legs, Honey, so Mommy can put your plastic pants on
you."
He lifted his legs obediently and felt the soft, crinkly plastic being
pulled up his legs and over his diapers. His mother patted the side of
his diapers noisily and said, "There you go, Honey. All snug and safe in
your dydees. If you feel like you need to pee-pee or poop just go ahead.
Mommy won't get angry. She wants her baby to be happy and content."
His mother sat him up on the bed and maneuvered his legs and feet over
the edge before she took a sheet and pinned it tightly around his neck
like a cape. She arranged the sheet so it covered his shoulders and arms
then made sure the bed was protected before she picked up a plastic
cooking bowl from the dresser and put it on top of his head. She took
the pair of scissors that had been lying next to the bowl and began to
cut his long locks in a line around the bottom of the bowl. Libby smiled
as she lopped off the growth of hair that her son had been growing since
he was a sophomore in high school. She had told him that she expected
him to cut it before he went to college. It simply didn't fit the image
she had of him as a dapper, clean-cut, Harvard scholar. She had asked
him repeatedly at the beginning of summer to get his hair cut, but he
had been resistant to the idea. Libby had decided that the hair must
symbolize his independence from her in the same way his mustache had
displayed his virility to the world. She had been willing, albeit
grudgingly, to let him have his way and let him look as he pleased when
he went to college before he had behaved so badly that morn ing. Now she
was determined to bring her errant boy back in line. "I've been too easy
on him, she told herself, "I let myself be lulled by his earnestness
with his studies at school. His behavior towards Monica was abominable.
Maybe this will get his attention before he goes too far and does
something that can't be forgiven."
As she snipped, the last locks of hair fell from the side of his head
and rolled wetly into the folds of the sheet that protected the bed.
"The long scraggily strands that he likes make him look so unkept,"
Libby thought to herself, "The bowl technique will leave enough of his
hair so that a competent barber can give him a decent haircut in a month
or so. Until then, he'll wear his hair in a style that befits his
childish behavior. If he's going to act like a child, then he should
look like one as part of his punishment."
A few minutes later she was finished. She took the bowl from his head
and made a few adjustments by cutting an errant strand of hair here and
there before she pronounced him ready to be dressed. She unpinned the
sheet and carefully folded Andrews shorn locks inside. Then she took a
hand mirror and gave it to him to inspect her work while she disposed of
the last vestiges of his adult appearance.
Andrew groaned when he saw what she had done to his hair. His long locks
were gone. Only a short toddler's haircut remained of the manly coiffure
he had so carefully cultivated for two years. The mustache that had
hidden his baby face was gone too. His appearance had changed from a
virile, mustached eighteen year old man to an immature, baby-faced ten
year old boy with a toddler's haircut and a softly-colored pacifier in
his mouth. He put his hand down to the plastic pants to feel what his
mother had dressed him in.
The plastic rustled softly as he pressed his fingers into the fabric
beneath the panties. The diapers were bunched up so thickly between his
legs that he couldn't feel his genitals at all. He felt like his manhood
had been absorbed by the infantile garb. It told all of his self-control
to keep from bursting out with a wail and crying in front of the women.
Monica smiled at him and gently pushed him back to lay on the bed again.
When he looked up, he saw his sister grinning down triumphantly at what
he had become.
Andrew rolled on his side away from his sister and pulled his knees to
his chest in a fetal position. He closed his eyes and sucked on the
pacifier unconsciously while he waited for his next humiliation. His
mother left him on the bed while she rummaged through the dresser
looking for something. A minute later she returned and made him sit up
so she could dress him in the adult-sized blue flannel sleeper that she
had modified for her husband years before. Her husband's circulation had
gotten so bad in the final days of his illness that his limbs would
become ice cold if they weren't constantly covered with something warm.
The sleeper had been her solution to the problem. She had gotten a
sleeper that was a size too large for him and opened up the seams all
the way up the legs to the crotch. Then she had hemmed the edges of the
legs and put snaps every six inches in the fabric.
The hems had tightened up the legs so they weren't so baggy on him and
the loose fit in the seat had fit over his diapers nicely. It had made
her husband look like a little boy when he wore them, but by that time,
her husband was too ill to care what he looked like. The pain from his
freezing limbs was abated by the warm flannel and that was all that
mattered to him at that point in his life. The snaps made it easy for
her to change his diapers.
She could have hired a nurse to care for him instead of tending to him
herself, but she felt like that would have been like abandoning her sick
husband. She was his wife, in sickness and in health and she wanted to
care for him until the bitter end, dirty diapers and all. Toward the
end, her husband had started regressing emotionally and wanted to be
held and read to like a small child. He was too weak to hold a book and
he had trouble focusing his eyes. His incontinence and increasing
weakness made him completely dependent on Libby for the smallest things.
Libby had to feed him and change his diapers like he was a baby. His
last words had begged Libby to hold him. He had called her Mommy. She
had taken his head to her bosom and held him until he stopped breathing.
He had died in her arms. The experience had toughened her and made her
determined to take care of her family against all odds.
Libby made Andrew lie down again so she could slip the open legs of the
sleeper over his feet and fasten the snaps. When she was finished, she
untied her apron and took it off. Libby took a large blue ribbon and fed
it through the loop of the pacifier and tied it in a knot before pinning
the loop of the ribbon to the breast of his sleeper with a diaper pin.
"Come on, Honey. I want you to tell our guests nite-nite before you go
to beddybye."
He got up from the bed slowly and trudged between his ex-girlfriend and
his mother as they led him down the hall and to the stairs. Andrew could
feel the soft diaper bunched up between his legs and realized that his
mother must have triple diapered him for them to feel so bulky. There
was so much material between his legs that he had to waddle bowlegged
like a toddler.
He slipped on one of the carpet covered stairs in his rubber-soled
sleeper and had to be grabbed by the women at both sides to keep from
falling. The bowlegged gait he was forced to assume made it almost
impossible to walk normally. Andrew held onto their hands tightly. If he
wasn't careful, he'd fall and his mother might make him crawl on his
hands and knees in front of everyone.
When he got down the stairs, his mother gathered everyone around and
said, "Andy is very sorry for what he's done and wants to apologize to
everyone.
Don't you, Baby?"
He nodded morosely and his mother took his pacifier from his mouth so he
could speak. He hung his head low and said in a small voice, "I'm sorry
I was so naughty. I'll never do it again."
His mother patted his diapered bottom and said, "I've given him some
castor oil just like he gave Monica so he'll know how it feels. Since I
can't trust him not to make a mess in his bed while he sleeps, I've put
him in diapers. Turn around, Baby. I want everyone to see how you look
in your new jammies."
The crowd of adults that gathered around had varying reactions to
Andrew's appearance; the men in the group looked at him with disgusted
expressions while the women smiled at how childish he looked. The
audience wavered for a moment, trying to decide whether it would become
a lynch mob or merely pillory him with jeers at his ridiculous
appearance. The sleepers he was wearing offered no protection from their
wrath. The infantile clothing he was wearing made him feel exposed and
vulnerable. The air seemed to sizzle with hostility toward Andrew. His
penis withdrew defensively into his pubic bone and his scrotum
contracted to protect itself from imminent danger.
Andrew was terrified. Any minute the crowd might turn into an angry mob
and tear him to pieces. Andrew felt something warm grow between his
legs.
Suddenly he realized what was happening, he was wetting himself in
terror! Claire eyed her older cousin and said loudly enough for everyone
to hear, "Aw...Isn't he sweet? Wittle babykins is all dressed up in his
jammies and ready to go nite-nite. Look at how big his bottom looks! His
Mommy must have put him in overnight diapers to take his nap. What an
adorable video this will make!"
Smiles were raised on scattered faces in the crowd as Claire prepared to
tape the moment for posterity. She put the viewer to her eye and
triggered the electronic shutter, moving to the front of the crowd to
get the best camera angle. Claire planned to play the tape later on the
projection TV in the living room later so everyone would get a chance to
see Andrew wearing his diapers and jammies.
Andrew felt the excitement of the guests change as Claire raised the
video camera and began shooting him from various angles. The presence of
the camera turned a potential riot into something between a press
conference and a rowdy carnival sideshow. Clarrisa sensed the effect she
was having and began playing to her audience. "Smile for the camera,
Honey!", Clarrisa said from behind the softly whirring video recorder,
"Clair's going to make a movie of you so that everyone can see how sweet
you are now! I'll bet you won't don't feel like being naughty in that
getup! Poor baby, you probably want to curl up with your ba-ba and take
a nap!"
The crowd chuckled at Clair's scathing remarks. The mood of the crowd
was shifting, his appearance, empathized by Clair's jibes, convinced
them that the little boy who stood before them wasn't a threat to be
disposed of, merely a naughty child whose foolish antics should be
laughed off as he was put to bed. Andrew sensed the difference and
relaxed slightly, it looked like he might survive this experience with
his body intact. The terror that he felt only moments before disappeared
and was replaced by the realization that all of his relatives and
friends had seen him dressed like a toddler.
He'd never live this down! He blushed hotly as he felt the eyes of the
audience riveted on his absurdly childish outfit. The shame he felt at
being forced to wear diapers was overwhelming. The knowledge that in an
hour at most he'd be pooping in them as if he was a baby again filled
him with despair. If he had been alone, he would have wept.
Claire decided that she needed a bit more action in the scene and
yelled, "Who is going to take care of little Andy when he goes to
Harvard? He doesn't look like he's ready to change his own dydees. Did
you hire a nanny for him to make sure he gets to class without getting
lost?"
Libby shook her head and said, "Little Andy won't be going to college
this year I'm afraid. He's much too immature to be allowed to go places
on his own. I'm afraid he'll have to stay home with Mommy while his
sister goes to college. He's not ready for Harvard yet. You have to be
potty trained to be a Harvard man! Libby's statement about Harvard men
brought howls of laughter from the crowd. Andrew realized that his
mother wasn't just trying to entertain the crowd, she really meant it.
He would be forced to stay home at her side like a preschooler while his
sister left for college in triumph.
Andrew's eyes burned with tears that threatened to start rolling down
his face at any minute. He had never been this humiliated in his entire
life.
The medication from the milk his mother had given him made him woozy and
confused and the laxatives were making his gut bubble and squeak
noisily.
And to top it off, he was wet. He wanted to cry.
Claire saw the expression on his face and stopped shooting. If he
started crying, her work would be wasted. She didn't want the people who
viewed the video to start feeling sorry for him. "Oh, poor baby!", she
said, "He looks like he's going to cry. The little baby must be afraid
of crowds. I think we should leave the little baby alone with his Mommy.
He probably wants to go out and crawl on the lawn with the other
babies."
The effect of Clair's statement was magical. Instantly everyone realized
how humiliated Andrew must feel. Couples turned towards each other and
started drifting away. In a few minutes their were only a few people
left to stare at the former college boy. Claire stepped up to Libby to
say, "I hope you don't mind me making a video of him. I couldn't resist
the opportunity. All I usually get to tape at parties is some child
making a fool of himself. This was the chance of a lifetime!"
Libby smiled at Claire and said, "Not at all. Think nothing of it. I
want to thank you for talking to the crowd like that. I hadn't realized
what an ugly mood they were in. You did exactly the right thing. You
really ought to think about going into journalism, you seem to have a
flair for handling crowds."
"Thank you, I will. Were you serious about giving him castor oil?"
Claire asked.
"Of course I was. That's why I put him in diapers," Libby replied.
Claire grinned and asked, "Is he really wearing diapers under his
sleepers? It sure looks like it, but I wasn't sure if you were just
trying to humiliate him in front of everyone."
"Oh, he's wearing diapers alright. And plastic pants too! Here! Pat his
bottom and feel for yourself. Andrew, turn around so Claire can feel wht
you're wearing," ordered his mother.
Andrew turned slowly to present his bottom for his cousin's inspection.
Claire patted his fanny and heard the soft rustle of the plastic pants
beneath the flannel sleeper's seat. She grinned again and said, "He sure
is. If you'll excuse me, I have several friends who would love to see
the video I made. Everyone's heard so much about Andy's achievements at
school that I thought they'd like to see what he is really like at
home."
Claire gave her cousin Andrew a peek on the cheek and said, "Don't cry
about not going to college, Andy. I'm sure you'll be much happier at
home with your Mommy. You'll get used to wearing dydees, I promise. In a
couple of weeks, you'll forget all about using the potty. Don't worry
about what people will think when the see you wearing them. As long as
you walk around and look natural, I don't think anyone will notice them.
Bye now, I got to run."
Clarrisa ran off to tell her friends about the fantastic tape she had
made, leaving Andrew staring down at his crotch in embarrassment. Claire
had been lying about people noticing the diapers underneath his
sleepers. The triple diaper bulged hugely in both the front and back. It
hadn't been necessary for Libby to tell everyone what he was wearing
underneath the infant style sleeper. The strategic nature of the bulges
made it obvious. Andrew glanced up and saw Clair's back disappearing
into the distance. She would make sure that everyone who missed it would
hear of his humiliation. He had been right, he would never live this
down.
Libby reached into her pocket of her suit and said, "I want to get some
punch before I tuck you in for the night, Honey. Mommy wants you to
drink the formula in this bottle. Monica, could you take care of him
while I get something to drink?"
"Gladly," she answered with a cruel smile. She took the bottle from
Libby's hand and forced the nipple between Andrew's lips. The crowd
started breaking up as Andrew began to suck on the bottle that Monica
held for him, it was obvious that the women had the delinquent well in
hand. She told him, "Take your bottle, Baby. I'm going over to talk to
some old friends.
You can suck on your bottle while we're talking."
She gripped his hand tightly as she walked over to the group of their
friends and acquaintances. Andrew's gut growled threateningly, he knew
it wouldn't be long before the laxatives and castor oil would make him
have an "accident" in his diapers. They stopped in front of them and
Monica said, "Hello, I'd like everyone to meet Baby Andy. We used to
know him as Andrew, but he's been very naughty. His Mommy has put him
back in dydees until he learns to behave himself."
The young women giggled and the men cast the gazes to the ground in
embarrassment for their friend. The bottle in Andrew's mouth
complemented his baby face and haircut and made him look like a
overgrown toddler.
Suddenly his bowels cut lose and he let a huge fart escape his behind.
The women giggled and the men started drifting away to find some other
amusement. The shock of seeing their friend so completely under the
control of women made them uneasy and made them wonder what their
girlfriend's would do to them if they had the same power over them that
Monica and Libby seemed to have over Andrew.
A wave of cramps hit Andrew and he dumped a full load of poop in his
diaper before he knew it. The remaining men made hasty excuses and
departed as soon as the smell from his diaper hit them. He felt warm
between his legs and realized that he had wet himself and never felt it.
Andrew wanted to cry. Monica patted his behind and asked in a
condescending tone, "Did Baby Andy make a poopy in his dydee? It doesn't
feel like he made a big poopy. I think we can wait until it's time for
you to go nite-nite to tell your Mommy, don't you?"
Monica smiled evilly at him and said, "Why don't you sit in the grass
and finish your bottle while I talk with my friends, Baby? The grass is
dry and you won't get your sleepers wet. You don't have anything to add
to this discussion. This is adult talk."
He sat gingerly on the grass, hoping the mess wouldn't spread all over
his bottom when he sat down. Monica smiled at him and then pushed him
back to lie on his back on the grass. He could feel the mess in the
diaper ooze up warmly between his legs as he rocked back on his
buttocks. He lay there and sucked on the nipple as Sandy asked, "Have
you decided who you'll be dating, Monica?"
"I haven't decided yet. Fred has asked me out for a date, but I don't
know.
He can be such a dork at times. Sam's a possibility, have you seen the
way he looked at me when we saw him at the Mall?", Monica replied.
"What about Duncan?", Carol asked.
"Duncan?!", Sandy and Monica chimed in unison.
"Are you out of your mind, Carol? Have you looked at his face? He looks
like he was beaten with an acne stick!", Monica said in disgust.
He's so immature!", Sandy added, "He's always yelling some smart remark
to try and impress the girls. I've babysat boys who act more mature than
he does!"
"As opposed to Andy here?", Carol said in self-defense.
Everyone burst out laughing at the comparison. Carol pointed down to
Andy and said, "I wonder who would be stupid enough to date him?"
Monica started to bristle and Carol added hastily, "He's turned into
such a big baby now. Before he was alright, you know? He was kind of
cute and even though he wasn't an athlete, it must have been kind of
neat to date the first person to graduate from our class. But now look
at him! He's just a big baby! Who would want to date someone whose
diapers had to be changed on a regular basis? It's not like, you know,
he was sick or anything. It's like, you know, his mommy turned him into
a baby again. What kind of date would he make, you know? I mean, he just
stood there and farted right in front of us like he was a baby or
something, you know?"
"Yeah...He's too stinky for me to date, that's for sure," Sandy said.
"I don't think his mother is going to let him date anyone soon," Monica
said, "Unless, of course, the girl is his babysitter!"
Everyone laughed and Carol said, "Like, I can just see it, you know? His
mother will get him all dressed up for a date and then call his
girlfriend to tell her he was ready. Then she'll come over to pick him
up and there he'd be at the door, wearing something sweet like shortalls
or something.
His girlfriend will make him stand while she checked to see if the snaps
on his crotch were all fastened before she went out the door with him,
you know? And when they left, his mother would give his girlfriend his
diaper bag in case he needed to be changed while they were at the
movies. At least he wouldn't spill his drink at the movies, you know?
Like all he'd be allowed to drink would be baby formula! Wouldn't that
be a scream? Can't you just picture it? They go to the movies and he
wets his diaper and his girlfriend has to take him to the women's
bathroom so she can change his dirty dydees! Wouldn't that be
embarrassing?"
"I don't think that baby Andy is going to be going out with anyone
except his Mommy," Monica said, "From what I can see, he's going to be
out of the running on a permanent basis."
"Yeah," Sandy smirked, "...the only women Andy is going to be seeing for
the near future are his babysitters!"
Andrew dropped his bottle in horror when he heard Sandy's prediction. He
realized in sick horror that she was probably right, the only girls his
mother would let him be near would be his sitters.
The idea made him nauseous and he thought he was going to be sick. His
bottle rolled down the small incline and came to a rest in the grass.
"Presuming his mother can find someone who'll take the job," Monica
observed.
"Yeah, who would want to babysit someone like him? It's bad enough to
have to change diapers on a little baby, but someone as big as him? His
mother will never find someone to take care of him," Sandy opined.
A small girl who looked about five years old saw Andrew's bottle and ran
to get it for him. She came running back with it in her hand and stood
silently to await a lull in the young women's conversation.
"I might," Monica said, "If his mother paid me enough."
"You!", Sandy and Carol said together.
"Of course me! I just said so, didn't I?", Monica exclaimed.
"But he put castor oil in your drink, didn't he?", Sandy asked.
"Exactly!", Monica said with a wicked grin, "What do you think might
happen if his mother goes out and leaves him with me as his babysitter?"
"What are you planning to do with him?", Sandy asked eagerly.
"Nothing yet. I'm just considering the possibilities. If you come up
with something appropriate, be sure to tell me. I'm open to ideas. All
I'm sure of is that it can't be anything that his mother will object to
when she finds out. Either that or something that's so humiliating that
Andy will be too embarrassed to tell his mommy. Either way, I don't want
to queer the deal. I want to have plenty of opportunities to get revenge
on him for what he did to me. No one does anything like that to me and
gets away with it. I don't care who it is, he or she will have to pay
the piper. Boyfriend or no, I'm going to make him suffer!", Monica said
vehemently.
The women looked down at Andrew and smiled at the thought of his
forthcoming punishment. Monica would come up with something appropriate,
they were sure. Little Andy would be crying like a baby when Monica was
finished with him. His days of sucking on his baby bottle peacefully
while he messed in his diapers were numbered.
The little girl looked up at Monica and said, "Can I give the baby his
bottle? He dropped it and it went over there. I ran and got it for him.
Can I give it to him, please?"
"What a sweet little girl you are! Of course you may!", Monica replied.
The little girl walked over to Andrew and put the nipple of the bottle
in his mouth for him. She held the bottle until he grasped it for
himself. The little girl smiled when he took the bottle and said,
"That's a goood baby! Drink your ba-ba like a good baby! You look just
like my boy dolly!"
Andrew was mortified by the little girl's remarks but continued to suck
on the bottle. The formula made his stomach settle a little. It tied
itself in knots when he thought about what Monica had said.
"Aww, look at him. Isn't he sweet?", Sandy said, "He doesn't look much
like a college boy now, does he?"
Monica laughed and said, "He looks more like he should be going to
nursery school instead of college."
"Wouldn't it be something if his mother put him in nursery school?",
asked Sandy.
"I don't know where she'd find one that would take a big baby like him,"
Monica answered.
"Well.....A regular commercial nursery wouldn't take him. But there's a
woman who lives down the street with me who probably would. She runs a
daycare in her house for the neighborhood I live in and looks after a
retarded boy who lives down the street from me. I don't think she would
mind taking care of Andy. He'd fit right in with the other babies,"
Sandy said.
Monica laughed and said, "I can just picture him standing there in his
dydees with tears running down his face, waving bye-bye at his Mommy as
she leaves."
"And then it would be off to the playpen for him to spend his day
playing with nice safe baby toys. I'll bet he wouldn't get in any
trouble in a playpen," Sandy rejoined.
"Considering how he acted today, it's the only place I'd trust him. That
sounds like a wonderful idea! If you'll give me the phone number of the
woman before you leave, I'll be sure Andy's mother gets it. She can put
him in a daycare during the day when she's busy and I can come over and
babysit him at night. That way Andy will have someone to watch over him
every minute of the day. He won't be able to get into any mischief as
long as he's treated like a toddler. Poor little Andy," she sneered,
"He's going to think that women have eyes in the back of their heads.
He'll never be able be with a woman again without wondering if she's
going to put her hands down the front of his pants to see if he's wet."
"Or pull the back of his pants open to peek in and see if he's poopy,"
Sandy added.
"I can imagine what his wife would be like if he gets married. Even if
his mother gets him potty trained again, his wife will probably put him
back in diapers to keep him under control," Monica mused.
"Poor baby!" Sandy chuckled, "He's going to spend the rest of his life
in diapers!"
"It's no more than he deserves," said Monica, "Since he acts like a
toddler, he should be treated like one. No more practical jokes for this
baby! Just a nice safe crib filled with soft animal toys to keep him
occupied and out of trouble. The only messes he'll be making will be in
his diapers!"
Everyone laughed at the justice