So Baby Bobbie was put to bed in his new cot. When his mother left the room having turned on the loop tape of nursery rhymes, he climbed to his knees. He examined the baby-proof catch, got the measure of the side bars and had to accept after 30 minutes of desperately trying that he was securely held in his cot.
He filled his nappy with pee and shortly afterwards the shock caused him to empty his bowels. He looked anxiously at his baby monitor and saw that his mother had forgotten to turn it on. He could hear the TV blaring loudly from the sitting room. There was no chance of a change of nappy until morning.
A few days later Angie visited. They had coffee while Baby Bobbie sat in his high-chair suc-king on his baby bottle of milk clutched between his mittened hands. “How long do you think you can keep him in nappies?” Angie asked. “Well I’m his guardian until he’s 18, am I not?” Robert stopped suc-king on the teat momentarily but then seemed to resume suc-king more urgently.
“You have booked us in to the mother and baby holiday centre again for next summer?” his mother asked. “Yes and asked them to reserve the same week the following year when our kiddies will be around 4. After that they’ll be too old for it.” “Yes” his mother stood up and went over to Baby Bobbie who had stopped feeding from his bottle again and looked upset. His mother took the bottle and pushed the teat back into his mouth. He resumed his suc-king obediently.
“Of course I have to keep his hands in these mittens so he will continue to be like a helpless one-year-old”. Robert sniffled a little as he suc-ked on his bottle. “But that’s ok because Mummy can look after his every need, can’t she my little one?” Baby Bobbie tried to smile. It was better to try to please her and be a good baby. Angie raised her eyebrows. “Well, he seems to be quite content now being kept as a one-year-old baby girl”, she finished her coffee and missed the look of concern that came over his face. He didn’t want people to think he was happy about this but he had to behave like a good baby for his mummy.
He was so slow waddling around in his nappy, his mother soon grew tired of how long it took him to get to the park or the shops. It meant that she met more people along the way and they always seemed to want to stop and admire his baby dresses and bonnets, asking how often he wet and soiled himself. She was always happy to oblige by describing his incontinence in detail.
She had a large stroller made which meant she could bring him anywhere more quickly and it widened their potential area of travel. He was a little resistant at first but was securely held in it by straps and once she’d had the Velcro strips added to secure his ankles to the sides he had no ability to put his feet down to the ground in protest and could be wheeled anywhere she liked.
Of course, then she had to have concrete ramps installed at the front and back doors of their house. He was concerned at the number of long-term alterations that were being made to the house. She’d also had a sink installed in his bedroom – well, nursery now really – beside his changing table and had a beam strengthened in the kitchen where she had a bouncer hooked up so he could amuse himself in it while she cooked. Although it was really more amusing for her.
The toes of his booties just about touched the ground so he could keep himself going by giving a little push. He appeared to tire of it after 10 minutes or so. His mother just smiled and picked up a little remote control. She pressed a button on it and Baby Bobbie found himself being pulled up in the air. Then he was dropped and bounced up and down a few times before the mechanism raised him up in the air again.
His mother smiled and put the remote control down. Baby Bobbie sat limp in the bouncer and suc-ked hard on his soother as he continued to be bounced up and down for the hour or so she was cooking her meal. She thought the bouncer was a great success – well worth the cost of installing. Ruth and her friends had great fun with it too whenever they were babysitting him.
Baby Bobbie was brought on two more holidays where he continued to be bottle and spoon-fed in his high chair, have his nappies changed, have his naps and early bedtime while the children grew up, no longer needing nappies or naps and increasingly enjoying feeding Baby Bobbie and helping with his nappy changes and putting him to bed in his cot.
As his 18th birthday approached Angie was visiting the house one day when she saw a lady leaving just before she arrived. “Who was that?” she asked Emma. “Oh, somebody who is helping us prepare for the upcoming birthday.”
When Angie went into the nursery Baby Bobbie beamed at her from his play pen. He waved a rattle at her happily and the little bells in it tinkled. She was surprised because he usually appeared to be quite bored in his playpen, only playing with his rattles and blocks because he knew he had to in order to keep his mummy happy.
“Show Angie your new book”, his mother encouraged. He turned over showing off his “I (heart) crawling” nappy cover, picked up the book between his mittens and turned back over on his very thickly nappied bottom and concentrated on trying to turn the thick, stiff pages. It was difficult in the mittens but just about possible. He turned the cover page.
“Where is the chuck-chuck?” his mother asked him. Baby Bobbie pointed where a chicken was in a barn door. “Very good!” his mummy praised him. Baby Bobbie giggled and clapped his mittens together with a big smile. Angie had never seen him seemingly so happy in his nappy and baby dress. He was suc-king quite absent-mindedly on his soother all the time.
“Doesn’t Baby Bobbie love his pretty pink dress?” Baby Bobbie put his mittens under his layers of petticoats and held them out proudly with a big smile. “And his cute bonnet?” Baby Bobbie giggled again. “What’s gotten into him?” Angie gave Emma a quizzical look.
They left the nursery. “Mummy’s going to prepare your bottle.” Baby Bobbie clapped again and smiled as he picked up a rattle and shook it enthusiastically. When they got to the kitchen Emma explained. “That lady is helping Baby Bobbie to be happier in his position.” “But won’t you have to stop this when he becomes 18 next month?” “Not necessarily”, Emma said sheepishly. “Not if he is happy the way he is.”
“He certainly looks happier but how come?” Angie asked. Emma seemed reluctant to explain. “Maybe he has come to like his pretty baby dresses and nappies and being babied.” She didn’t seem to be convinced herself. “Seems strange after four years of constantly fighting against it – not that it did him any good. You had him well trapped.” She thought about it. “How was that lady helping?” Emma again seemed reluctant to answer. “I mean I think you’d need to hypnotise him or something.” Emma again looked sheepish and sipped her coffee.
“Is that it?” Angie asked in surprise. Emma shrugged. “She thinks if we have one session a week between now and his birthday, she can ensure that he is a happy being a baby and won’t even think of being freed when his birthday comes around. Then a session once a month should keep him nice and compliant. Perhaps after a year there won’t be a need for any more sessions and he will be permanently regressed. We’ll see.”
Angie was shocked. But she was curious to see if it could work so she didn’t object. They went back into the nursery. Baby Bobbie was playing with the letter blocks but some were upside down and some on their sides. He seemed to have no understanding of the letters anymore.
His mummy knelt by the play-pen. “Does Baby Bobbie want to be mummy’s baby forever?” Baby Bobbie giggled and shook one of the letter blocks which tinkled. “Not bad for one session”, Emma muttered to Angie who was certainly impressed. Baby Bobbie crawled again to the corner of his pen showing off his nappy cover and picked up a rattle. He was clearly blissfully unaware of what was happening.
THE END
Topic: Shoulda gone to camp (Read 17551 times)
