The Fancy Dress Party

[DaraJaney]

The two women went into the kitchen leaving Shane in the play-pen.  He couldn’t hear what they were talking about but after ten minutes or so they emerged.  â€śI shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours”, Mrs. Hall said.  She looked into the front room.  â€śBye bye pet”, she said Shane.  He glared at her.  â€śDon’t be rude”, his mother said, “wave bye-bye.”  Shane mechanically waved a mitten.  Mrs. Hall went out the door tittering.



After an hour or so Shane wet himself again.  He knew there was no point in trying to hold it in.  He just relaxed and let the warmth spread around his nappy.  His mother was in the kitchen and he need to attract her attention.



“Mmmm”, he grunted through the dummy.  Nothing.  She had the radio on.  â€śMMMMM.”  Still nothing.  He wondered if this was a reasonable excuse to climb out of the pen.  He didn’t want to earn a punishment of an hour in this wet nappy.  He got up on his knees and leaned over the corner of the pen nearest the kitchen.  â€śMMMMM.”



He tried several times to no avail.  He sat back on his legs and felt the wet squelch of his nappy.  He grimaced.  It was starting to go cold already.



A little while later, his mother decided to turn off the radio.  Almost immediately she heard a whimper coming from the front room.  â€śIs that you dear?”   “MMMMMM.”  She went into the front room and found Shane leaning on the side of the pen looking up in desperation.  â€śWhat’s wrong?” she asked.  He pointed his hand at his nappy.



“Oh, are you wet dear?”  He nodded firmly.  â€śOK.  We just need to wait until Mrs. Hall gets back.”  She turned and left him in his wet nappy without further explanation.



When it was clear that she was not coming back to him he went to sit down very gingerly.  The soggy nappy was most uncomfortable.



About half an hour later the door bell rang and his mother let Mrs. Hall in.  They muttered to each other, inaudibly to Shane.  His mother popped her head in the door.  â€śWe’ll be with you in a moment.  Play with your xylophone while you are waiting.”  She waited for him to start playing.  He reckoned he had better go along with this in order to get out of the wet nappy quickly.



He tried to pick up the stick but couldn’t because of the mittens.  â€śHere, let me”.  His mother came over, reached into the pen and picked up the stick.  She placed it between his mittens and he held it.  She stood there until he started to plink-plink at the toy, then she left.



After a couple of minutes tapping at the xylophone, he paused for a frustrated sigh.  He took the dummy out to give himself a break.  â€śI don’t hear you”, his mother called from the utility room.  He resumed his tuneless plinking.



Eventually she returned.  â€śNow, we’re ready for you.”  She opened the side of the pen and he clambered to his feet.  She insisted on taking him by the hand.



She led him into the utility room.  They had covered a table with what looked like pink plastic padding.  Then he saw the pile of a dozen cotton nappies.  He pulled back from the table but his mother tugged his hand.  He noticed a jumbo economy pack of baby wipes.  It was becoming abundantly clear that they were planning to keep him in nappies for some time.



“Please Mum!” he begged.  â€śNow, now, babies don’t talk.”  She looked around for his soother.  She continued tugging him towards the changing table.  He groaned as he pulled against her.



Mrs. Hall took his other arm and they brought him over to the table.  They started removing his baby clothes.  This was some relief, so he let them do it but he kept looking at the pile of nappies with great concern.  When he was down to just the nappy, he refused to get up on the changing table.



“Do you want your nappy changed or not?” his mother asked pointedly.  He sighed.  Of course he did.  He had no choice but to sit up on the table.  His mother pushed him back to make him lie down.



She removed his plastic pants and then unpinned the sodden nappy.  She wiped him down.  He turned over and back when instructed.  â€śHave you got the razor?” she asked Mrs. Hall.  She started scrapping the razor around his groin removing the pubic hair.  Shane craned his neck and looked down in shock.  â€śWhat are you doing?”  â€śWe need to remove all the hair around here while you are in nappies”, his mother told him.



His head flopped back on the table and he pleaded “Mum, this is ridiculous please stop.”  He wanted to get up and run but he was afraid to move while she had the razor so close to his vitals.  His mother ignored his pleas and continued to remove hair.  He started crying in frustration.



“Where IS his soother?”  Mrs. Hall went into the front room and found it in the pen.  She returned and handed it to his mother.  â€śThere we are”, she said holding it towards Shane’s mouth.  He shook his head from side to side, still crying.  â€śCome on, you’ll feel better when you nurse on this.”



He firmly turned his head to the side in refusal.  â€śNow don’t be bold”, she warned, “you know what the consequences will be.”  His shoulders shook as he cried.  She pushed the soother against his lips.  After a few seconds he relented and the soother slipped into his mouth.



He continued shaking as he cried for another few seconds but gradually the hopelessness of his situation sank in and his crying eased.  â€śThere we are, that’s better”, his mother said.  She turned to Mrs. Hall.  â€śAren’t soothers wonderful?”  Shane glared at her.  He deliberately sobbed a couple of times in an attempt to prove her wrong but he couldn’t keep it up and just sniffled as he nursed the dummy.



He was told to turn over again as his mother continued shaving.  When she was done at that, she rubbed a cream into his bottom.  He turned over again and she rubbed it around his groin.



She reached over and took a nappy from the top of the pile.  He sobbed a couple of times and looked at his mother hoping for some reprieve.  She ignored him and tapped his bottom to make him raise it.



Soon he was pinned into another nappy and she pulled a clean pair of plastic pants up over it.  â€śNow sit up”, she instructed him.  When he did he saw that Mrs. Hall was holding up a blue pastel dress that had a pale pink pinafore with a heart shaped front.  He looked at it in disbelief.  They had obtained another baby dress for him!



He grunted and groaned as he struggled to stop them putting it on him but they quickly pulled it over his head and zipped him up.  He was crying again as his mother placed a matching lace trimmed bonnet with a large stiff crescent-shaped rim on his head while Mrs. Hall pulled ankle socks with three layers of frills on his feet.



Then his mother flapped out a pair of blue bloomers that had ruffled lace around the leg openings.  She pulled them up his legs and they fitted snugly over the bulge of his nappy.



While Mrs. Hall buckled on his t-bar shoes, his mother took hold of something attached to his pinafore.  He looked down, curious to see what she was doing.  She looped it through the ring of his soother.  â€śThere!  Now you won’t lose your soother”, she assured him.  He tried to not to be upset at this but a few sniffles escaped.  â€śIt looks like you’ll be needing it.”



Once his t-bar shoes were buckled on they brought him back to the play pen in the front room.  Passing the hall mirror he saw that, while the flared dress was slightly longer than his pink one, the bloomers came half-way to his knees and were clearly visible.

[DaraJaney]

His mother put him back in the play-pen while she made dinner.  The sound of pots and pans being moved around was followed by the scraping of cutlery against delft.  He sat there worried was he going to be fed at all.



He heard plates being placed in the sink before she came in and freed him from the pen.  She brought him into the kitchen, sat him at the table and put a bib on him.  On the worktop was a plate with vegetables and meat balls.  He cheered up considerably.  While he hated the prospect of his mother having to feed him at least he was going to eat.



His mother took the plate but, instead of bringing it over to him, she scraped the contents into a mixer.  She switched it on and he watched as his dinner was reduced to a mush.  She emptied the contents into a bowl, took a spoon and came over to him.



It looked a lot less appetising but at least it would taste the same.  She held a spoonful up to his mouth.  He took the dummy from his mouth and let it dangle from his dress.  He eagerly accepted the spoon.  The mix was only lukewarm.  It had obviously gone cool while she ate her own dinner.



He ate it all without resistance.  He tried to ignore her encouragement.  â€śThat’s a good baby.”  â€śThere we are, nearly all done.”  Once done, she pushed his dummy back in and he was returned to the play pen.



He was bored silly.  None of the toys in the pen could amuse him.  Every now and then his mother encouraged him to play the drum or xylophone.  He stared out the window but little was happening in the garden.  His mother switched on the TV and found a channel with Barney on.  She put the remote on the coffee table and left him staring at the TV glumly.



He heard her go into the bathroom.  He took the opportunity to take a respite from the dummy.  Then suddenly a boy appeared at the window.  He pressed his face against the glass and shielded his eyes from the glare.  â€śHah!”, he shouted when he saw Shane in the play pen.  â€śIt’s true!  Look!”  He beckoned with his hand.



Other children joined him at the window.  Shane was frozen in shock.  â€śHe IS still dressed as a baby girl!”   “And look!  He’s sitting in a pen!”  He thought about jumping out of the pen and running out of the room but his mother had it well drilled into him already that this was forbidden.



One of the girls who had been at the party noticed: “that’s a different dress!  He has two baby dresses!”  Shane got up on his knees, leaned on the side of the pen with his back to them and tried to summon his mother.  â€śMMMMMM!”  He was too afraid to talk.



“Look at those frilly panties!” one of the children screamed.  Shane winced and tried to push his dress down but kept his back to them.  â€śAnd you can see he’s obviously still wearing a thick nappy!”  He sat down in a belated attempt to conceal this.



There were now about eight children shoving each other aside for a better look.  â€śWould you look at that bonnet!”  Shane could take it no more.  â€śMUM!”  Nothing.  He started crying in frustration.  â€śLook at the baby cry.  And he’s watching Barney.”  â€śI love you, you love me”, they all sang and laughed.



He heard the bathroom door open.  â€śMUM!”  She came into the room quickly.  She saw the children at the window.  Some of them ran off but the cheekier ones were determined to see what happened next.  She looked at Shane crying in the pen.  â€śOh, are they teasing you, poor darling?”  Shane nodded vigorously.



She came over and he expected her to make them scram.  But she took his dummy and pushed it into his mouth.  â€śThere, there.”  The remaining children at the window roared laughing.  â€śThe cry-baby is suc-king on his dummy now!”



Only then did she go over to the window and tell them to go away.  They reluctantly ran off.  She turned to Shane in the pen.  He was in floods of tears.  â€śLooks like you need more than the dummy this time.”  He tried to give her his most plaintive look possible.  Surely she couldn’t leave him like this with the whole neighbourhood knowing he was being kept in nappies and baby dresses.



She pulled him to his feet and put her arms around him.  Initially he just cried all the more but eventually it subsided.  â€śThere, there”, she said soothingly.  But when he stopped crying she made him sit down in the cot again and left the room.  He sat there sniffling and nursing the dummy.



Boys continued appearing at the window at intervals for the rest of the evening.  Shane would grunt through his soother and his mother would come in and make them go away.  He needed to do a number 2 and knew he had to get up on his knees to do this but he was terrified that a Peeping Tom would catch him in the act so he held it until dark when his mother finally drew the curtains.



When he got on his knees she said “that’s a good baby, I’ll prepare the changing table for you.”  He sighed and started pushing.

[DaraJaney]

Again, he was put to bed in a nappy.  In the morning, his mother put the pink baby dress on him.  He offered little resistance but just looked grumpy at the prospect of another day in nappies.

Shortly after breakfast his niece Emily came to the door.  When his mother opened it she asked “is Uncle Shane still dressed as a baby girl?”  His mother confirmed this.  “Can I see him?”  “Sure, come in.”

They came into the kitchen.  “Look who’s here to see you”, his mother said.  Emily was delighted.  “Ha! Ha!  You look just like a little baby!”  “It’s time to put you in the play pen”, his mother said and she took him by the hand and led him into the front room.

Emily followed behind.  “Uncle Shane is still in nappies!” she noticed.  His mother put him in the pen and inserted his dummy.  “Can I see him having his nappy changed?” Emily asked.  “Sure.  He hasn’t wet himself yet this morning.  You can feed him a bottle of milk and that should make sure that he does pee-pees.”  Emily jumped up and down in anticipation as she followed his mother into the kitchen.

Emily returned on her own after a few minutes with the baby bottle of milk.  “Here’s your milk baba”, she said and giggled.  Shane knew better than to refuse so he got up on his knees, removed the soother and put his hands on the side of the pen.  Emily held the bottle up to his mouth and he obediently started suc-king.

“Is he taking his bottle?” his mother called from the kitchen.  “Yes.  He’s a good baba”, Emily replied.  “Glad to hear it.”

His mother came in just as he finished his bottle.  He was about to sit down when she said “come here”.  She got down on her knees and put her arms around him.  She proceeded to pat his back.  After a few moments Shane burped.  Emily jumped up and down and laughed.

His mother returned to the kitchen but Emily stayed with him and made him play with the toys.  She revelled in her absolute control over him.  He had to do whatever she wanted.  One time, as his mother passed by, he was trying to play “twinkle, twinkle, little star” on the xylophone.  Emily scolded him each time he hit a bum note.

In the middle of “three blind mice” Shane stopped suddenly.  He looked down in embarrassment.  His pee was spreading around his nappy.  “I think Uncle Shane is wetting himself”, Emily called.

After a few minutes, when his mother was sure he was all done, she took him from the pen.  “You ARE being a good little baby today”, she told him.  “You might even earn a treat with your lunch if you continue to be good.”

They brought him into the utility room.  His mother took off his dress.  “Oh, his soother is attached to his dress”, she told Emily, “will you undo it so he can nurse it while he is being changed?”

He sat up on the table and lay back.  He co-operated fully as his mother removed his plastic pants and nappy.  Emily came over with his dummy and held it up to him.  He opened his mouth and let her insert it.  She laughed and clapped.

His mother kept up a running commentary for Emily.  “Now we sprinkle a little powder on his botty and rub it in.”  Emily was enthralled.  “Now fetch his clean nappy please”, his mother asked.  Emily held up the clean nappy, looked at Shane and smiled.

His mother pulled up his plastic pants and tucked his nappy inside.  Emily handed her his pink baby dress and he was soon zipped in again.  They brought him back to his pen.  “Emily, would you attach his soother to his dress again please?”  Emily was revelling in her new responsibility.

Shortly after this, Shane’s sister Helen, Emily’s mother, arrived.  “We just changed Uncle Shane’s nappy”, Emily informed her with great excitement.  Helen came into the front room.  She grinned from ear to ear.  “Isn’t he adorable?”  Shane cheeks started to redden again.

“How long are you going to keep him like this?”  Shane looked at his mother anxiously hoping for a clearer answer this time.  “That’s up to him.  So far he’s been a very good little baby girl today.  Much better than the bold boy he was before.”

“I wouldn’t let him out of nappies too soon”, his sister warned.  He glared at her.  “He might just go back to his old ways.”  “Do you think?” his mother wondered.

“Oh yes.  I think he’ll need a good stay in nappies to really let him know who is boss.”  “Mmmm”, his mother thought about this.  His sister warmed to the subject.

“You have complete control now and you should use it.”  Shane started to get very concerned.  “I think you should treat him completely like a baby and make him look completely like a baby so that you really get the message home.”

“What do you mean?” his mother asked.  “You should bottle feed him every few hours to make sure he was to wet himself regularly.  You should feed him lots of high-fibre food and maybe a little laxative so that he can’t help but soil himself.  Put him to bed at eight every night.  I think his hair is just about long enough to make cute sausage curls.  You should put him in double thick nappies so that he looks and walks even more babyishly.  You’ve got to ram home just how helpless he is and how completely dependent he is on you and the rest of us.  It’s for his own good.”

“Wow”, his mother said.

[DaraJaney]

His sister, Helen, was still there as his mother prepared lunch.  Shane suc-ked on a bottle full of milk in his pen but could hear what was being said.  â€śNow you can make him eat all those vegetables he refused to eat before”, Helen advised his mother.  â€śSpinach, boiled cabbage, sprouts.  You could never get him to eat these.  He’ll have no choice now.  You could add prune juice and blend it all in the processor into a puree that you can spoon-feed him.”



Shane dreaded his next meal.  He was brought into the kitchen and sat at the table.  In front of him was an unappetising green mush with a purple tinge.  Seeing the look on his face his mother said “now, we’re not going to have a problem here are we?  You’ve been such a good baby so far today.”  Shane looked up at her and shook his head.  But then he stared at the bowl again with a very dubious look.



His mother tied the bib around his neck and sat beside him.  Helen and Emily watched.  His mother stirred the mix, removed his dummy and took up a spoonful.  Shane opened his mouth and she inserted the spoon.  He took the spoonful and held it in his mouth, bracing himself for the taste.  He grimaced and swallowed quickly.  The women laughed as he shuddered.



He looked up pleadingly at his mother but she already had the next spoonful ready.  A little tear came to his eye as he opened his mouth to receive it.  Each time, before he recovered from the appalling taste, another spoonful was held up in front of him.  He realised that the quicker he ate it the sooner it would be over but he wasn’t sure if he could stomach it all.



As the feeding continued, Helen suggested “we need to get him a high-chair for feeding.”  His mother smiled at the thought but knew that high-chairs didn’t come big enough to hold Shane.



“Mr. Ramsey, who owns the shop, is into carpentry”, Helen continued, warming to the idea.  â€śHe was telling me that Shane used to steal sweets from his shop.  I’d say he would be delighted to make him a high-chair.  And maybe even a wooden cot.”  Shane looked at his mother with great concern.  She seemed to be thinking about it seriously.  â€śDo you think he would?”



Being spoon-fed was humiliating enough.  Shane certainly didn’t like the idea of being fed in a high-chair – or having to sleep in a cot.  But what concerned him most was the thought that they wouldn’t be going to all this trouble if they only intended to keep him in nappies for a short time.  It would surely take days of hard work to make a high-chair or cot.  They were hardly likely to put him in it for a day or two and then forget about it.



Shane was put back in the pen while the others had their lunch.  He could smell the chicken from the front room and it drove him mad while he suc-ked on his dummy trying to kill the after-taste of his meal.



When the washing up was done his mother and Helen came in with a tray of bottles and curlers and evil grins on their faces.  There was little Shane could do to stop them and a couple of hours later his hair was a mass of sausage curls.  A couple dangled at the edge of his vision but Emily fetched a mirror so he could see them in their full glory.  He started crying again so she pushed in his dummy for comfort.  His mother carefully placed his bonnet on his head so that the ringlets protruded beneath it and could be clearly seen.



As the women were tidying up after their work, Shane felt the need to fart.  He tilted slightly to one side to allow it escape but what came out was more than a fart and it was very loud.  The women froze at the sound.  They looked at each other and laughed.  There then followed a prolonged noise as Shane’s nappy filled with very liquid poo.



When the smell hit them the women ran from the room giggling.  They eventually mustered up the courage to come back with noses firmly clamped and rescued poor Shane.  He was in floods of tears now.  Before, he had needed to get up on his knees and push hard to do a poo.  Now he couldn’t help it.



There was much grimacing as the women changed him.  When he was finally clean, Helen suggested doubling up on the nappy.  She pulled two layers of cotton nappy around him, forcing his legs further apart.  She pinned him in.  His mother was unsure that the plastic pants would fit over the double nappy but they were well elasticated and she was just about able to tuck the thick nappy in.  The frilly panties were similarly stretched to their limit but did the job.



Shane got down from the changing table and stood bow-legged on the floor.  The two women crossed the room and turned to face him.  His mother held out her hands and called “come to Mummy dear”.  Shane glared at them, realising what they were up to.  But he had to walk sometime.



He waddled across the room and the women burst out laughing.  â€śPerfect!”  Helen was delighted.  â€śLook at the way his ringlets shake as he waddles!”  Emily came in to see what the fuss was about.  She laughed and pointed when she saw the way her uncle’s movement was constrained by the over-sized nappy.



Helen stopped laughing suddenly.  â€śI’ve another idea”, she blurted.  â€śWhat?” her mother asked.  â€śTights!” she said.  â€śBoys absolutely hate tights and he’d look so adorably pretty in a pair of white wool-knit tights!”  As she predicted, there was a look of horror on Shane’s face as she ran from the room and out of the house.



His mother helped Shane waddle back to his pen.  He was sitting there when Helen came back.  â€śLook what I found”, she announced.  She held up a pair of pink tights.  Her mother and Emily gasped when they saw them and turned to see the look on Shane’s face.



They opened the pen and Shane tried to scramble away.  His mother pulled off his frilly panties.  Then Helen grabbed a leg.  He tried to twist and turn but his mother practically sat on him while Helen pulled one leg of the tights onto him.  â€śOnce we get his feet into the tights we’ll have him.”  He kicked the other foot away from her but she grabbed it and forced it close enough to be able to pull the other leg of the tights onto him.  Once she had the tights up to his ankles they let go for a moment.



Shane kicked both feet in the air but there was nothing he could do to get the tights off.  They let him twist and turn until he realised that he was stuck.  Then as the tears streamed down his face again they pulled the pink tights up his legs and over his nappy.



When his frilly panties were pulled up over the tights, the women stood back to admire their handiwork.  They looked down at the seated boy and smiled at the ringlets dangling beneath his bonnet and at his pink legs, spread to a wide angle by the thick nappy.  When the soother started bobbing in and out of his mouth at a regular pace it just completed the picture.

[DaraJaney]

They continued feeding Shane milk or juice every couple of hours.  He was spoon-fed more pureed vegetables and prune juice mix in the evening.  He was unable to avoid more very liquid poo oozing out later and had to be changed again.

His mother put him to bed at eight.  It was still bright outside.  Emily came into his room as he was getting into bed.  “I can stay up until ten o’clock”, she boasted.  Then she handed Shane a doll and his mother insisted that he lie down with his arm around it.

He couldn’t sleep.  He wasn’t the least bit tired and the prospect of being kept in very thick nappies and baby dresses and tights for the foreseeable future didn’t help.

After another couple of hours his tummy rumbled again.  He desperately tried to avoid doing a poo but it just oozed out anyway.  He blubbered away for ten minutes or so at his inability to control his toilet.  Then he pulled himself together and realised he would have to get his mother to change him.  He didn’t want to be in the smelly nappy all night.

He got out of the bed and went towards the door.  Then he thought he was in danger of being punished if he appeared without his soother and dolly, so he went back and found the dummy, pushed it in, tucked the dolly under his arm and went downstairs.

He had to take great care going down the stairs.  The thick nappy spreading his legs meant he had to swing one leg down a step at a time.  The mittens meant that he only had a very tentative hold on the banister.

He stood at the door of the front room.  His mother was reading a magazine.  She looked up and saw him standing at the door in his nappy, suc-king on the dummy, clutching the doll, his red eyes a dead giveaway that he had been crying.

“What’s wrong dear?” she asked in a pretend-sympathetic voice.  Shane pointed to his nappy.  His mother’s nose twitched.  “Dear oh dear.  We’re going to run out of clean nappies if you keep up this rate”, she said as she stood up from the chair.  Shane frowned.  It wasn’t his fault.  They were making him lose control.  But he wasn’t in a position to argue.  He had to wake her at 4am to be changed again.

The next morning he sat at the table suc-king on another bottle of milk while his mother prepared breakfast.  She came over with a bowl of rusks with milk poured over them.  She was mashing the rusks into a soft pulp.

Helen and Emily arrived.  “Oh, his blue dress is adorable too.  And he looks so cute in those white tights!  Emily brought some of her favourite dolls and toys for him.”

When he had finished his rusks, they brought him to the play pen.  Emily started handing him lots of cute dollies and he had to arrange them around the pen.  She also had nursery rhyme books with stories of princesses and fairies.  Then she produced DVDs of “A Little Princess”, “My Little Pony”.

“I’m too big for these now”, she said, “but Baby Shane will probably love them.”  “Isn’t Emily very good to give you her dollies and toys?” Helen asked in a semi-threatening way.  Shane knew he was required to be grateful so he nodded.

“Emily, you read Baby Shane a story while we have coffee”, Helen said.  “The poor thing can’t turn the pages of the books so he needs you to read to him.”  Emily opened a book, knelt down beside the pen and started “once upon a time …”

The women returned an hour later so find Emily still reading to a pretty bored looking Shane.  He tried to perk up when he saw them and feign interest in the story.

“I must get some photos of him in that baby dress”, Helen said and went for her camera.  When she returned Shane was required to adopt all sorts of poses for her.  He looked thoroughly miserable in all of the shots, unable to smile in the knowledge that these embarrassing photos would probably be shown to all and sundry.

The doubly-thick nappy was so obvious under the short dress that there was no point whatsoever in trying to hide it.  “Get up on your hands and knees there so we can see the frilly bloomers properly”, Helen instructed him.

And so his day continued with regular changings, bottles, feedings of mashed vegetables and his eight-year-old niece lording it over him in his babyfied state.  She wanted to bring him his bottle, spoon-feed him and help in the changings.  She made sure he cuddled a dolly at all times and read him endless stories.

The highlight for her, though, was when she produced the toy ducks.  They were all in a line on a string and when you pulled them they waddled along behind you.  She made Shane go all around the house with the ducks strung behind seemingly mimicking his waddle.  She made him walk into the kitchen where the women were chatting and they roared laughing at the sight.

At the end of the day, it was a relief for him to be tucked up in bed (after a bedtime story read by Emily) - even if he was cuddling a doll, suc-king on a soother and facing a night of at least two changings.

[DaraJaney]

The next day Mrs. Wilson (of the football-through-the-window) arrived.  â€śI heard that you’re keeping him in nappies, so I thought I’d offer to make him a new baby dress.”  â€śIsn’t that kind of Mrs. Wilson?” his mother asked him.  Shane looked up from his play-pen wanting to cry but trying to maintain his composure.



Mrs. Wilson smiled at the sight of this previously troublesome boy looking up at her from the confines of his play-pen in his pink baby dress, pink legs splayed and clutching a cabbage-patch doll.



“I don’t think he’ll be kicking a football for a while”, she observed.  â€śNo”, his mother agreed, “he can barely walk.”  She opened the pen, helped him to his feet and made him waddle across the room.



“What colour would you like his new dress to be?” Mrs. Wilson asked.  â€śWell, he has pink and blue dresses.  What about yellow?” his mother suggested.  The women continued discussing his new outfit.  â€śBig puffed sleeves of course.  A Peter Pan collar.   Little bows at his shoulders and waist.  I can make organza petticoats that really stand out and keep their shape forever.”



His mother was delighted with all of this.  â€śI would suggest gathering the skirt in places with a bow, to show off the petticoats underneath”, Mrs. Wilson continued  â€śNow for the panties, I make pettipants for dance costumes.  They are gorgeous panties with a few inches of leg, absolutely covered from top to bottom with rows of frills.  I can see that I’ll have to make them quite big to fit over his nappy.  I’ll make the dress very short so that everyone can see the panties in their full glory.”



Shane was fighting back the tears as he heard his new baby dress being described.  It make his current two dresses sound relatively plain.  â€śI’ll make a broderie anglaise mop cap so that we can see all of his beautiful sausage curls.”



As she left, Mrs. Wilson told his mother it “wouldn’t take more than a couple of weeks” to complete his baby dress.  When his mother returned from the front door he was in tears again at this confirmation that he would be more than a few days in nappies.



Just before lunch, Helen arrived with the high-chair Mr. Ramsay had made.  â€śThat was quick”, his mother said.  â€śHe just used an old kitchen counter chair and attached a swing tray and a few straps”, Helen told her.



They brought it into the front room where Shane was in the play-pen.  It came as no surprise to him that the high-chair had been painted pink.  The women excitedly took him from the pen and made him sit up in the chair.  Helen pulled the straps around him, tightened and fastened them.  Then she swung the tray around in front of him and it clicked into position.



Shane tried to find a rung to rest his feet on underneath but there didn’t seem to be one, so his legs just dangled in mid-air.  His mother went to heat up his lunch and returned with the usual bowlful of mush.  Helen put his bib on and spoon-fed him.  â€śMm-mmm!” she went as she pushed another horrid spoonful in.



After he was fed, Helen asked about a particular plant in the garden and they went out to discuss it.  Shane was left in the high-chair assigned the task of finishing a bottle of juice.  He had a toy car he pushed around the tray in between suc-king from the bottle.



Then he thought he heard tittering.  He looked up and two girls were peeping in the window.  When they realised that they had been seen they stood up and started laughing out loud.  Shane wondered how long had they been watching.



“Look at the big baby in his high-chair!”  â€śDid you see him suc-king from his baby bottle?”  â€śAnd playing with his little toy, ah!”  â€śLook at his pink tights!  Ha ha ha.”



Shane instinctively tried to get out of the high-chair but the straps held him very firmly.  â€śAh look, he’s strapped into his high-chair.  Can the poor baby not get out?”  He wriggled desperately, kicking his pink legs in the air but his struggling made his ringlets jiggle about, drawing attention to them.



One of the girls pointed but couldn’t speak she was laughing so hard.  â€śHis…..his…..his hair is in …. in ringlets!” she eventually managed to say.  â€śMy God!  He looks completely like the cutest baby girl!”



Shane was in floods of tears from the frustration.  He gave up his pointless attempts to get out of the high-chair.  He had no choice but to sit there and take their taunts and laughter.  The girls called some friends over and soon there were a dozen children gathered.



“I think his mother must intend to keep him as a baby if she has had a special high-chair made for him”, one of the girls observed.  â€śI heard Mrs. Wilson is making him another dress even more babyish than that”, another girl told them.  â€śThat’s right, she makes the frilliest dance dresses.”



Shane couldn’t take any more and decided to risk the consequences of calling his mother.  The children laughed as he called out.  â€śOh, poor baby wants his mummy.  What’s wrong, is your nappy wet?”  â€śI heard they make him do poos in his nappy too.”



Eventually his mother and sister appeared.  â€śWhat’s wrong?  Oh, are the children teasing you again?”  Shane was very relieved to see her but again her first reaction was to stuff the dummy into his mouth which made the children outside howl with laughter.



The women made no attempt to make the children go away.  They swung back the tray and Helen started undoing his straps.  â€śNow, you can get down”, she told him and he jumped down to the ground.  He tried to walk away but his mother and sister took an arm each.  â€śNow they can see you properly”, Helen said as they held him in front of the window.



They turned him around.  â€śLook at those frilly panties!  And the size of that nappy!”  Shane was in floods of tears again.  â€śAlright, you can get into your pen”, Helen said as if that was some relief but the pen was still in full view of the window.  They let go and he waddled towards the pen.  This brought more screams of laughter from the children outside.  â€śHe looks more babyish than my one-year-old sister”, one of them said.



Eventually the women made the children go away and gave Shane some peace in his pen.  He continued to sniffle as he suc-ked on the soother and held a dolly tightly to his chest.  â€śEveryone hates me except my dollies”, he found himself thinking.

[DaraJaney]

Shane was put to bed at eight o’clock again.  When his mother took him from the pen he was still holding the dolly.  He brought it to bed with him and was still holding it when she tucked him in.  An hour later she peeked in the door.  He still had his arm around the dolly and the soother bobbed in and out every few seconds.



The next morning Shane had been changed, dressed and fed before Helen and Emily arrived.  They looked at him in the pen.  â€śIs that the same dolly he was holding yesterday?” Helen asked of the doll that had yellow ringlets and a white dress.  â€śYes”, his mother said, “it’s definitely his favourite.”  Shane glared at them.



“You know, he looks just like the perfect baby girl”, Helen observed, “but we really need to get him to act like he’s the happiest baby girl in the world.”  A very troubled look came over Shane’s face.  What now?



“Now, Shane.”  Helen got down on her knees beside the pen.  Shane observed her warily.  â€śWe have a tub of delicious caramel ice cream.  The one with the nuts – your favourite.  Wouldn’t you like some of that ice cream?”  The boy nodded cautiously.  He’d had nothing but tasteless rusks and horrible pureed vegetables for days now.



“Well, if you’re a really good little baby girl this morning, we just might let you have some after your lunch.  Wouldn’t that be nice?”  Shane nodded but remained impassive.



“Are you going to give us a little smile?” Helen asked.  Shane gave her an uncertain look.  â€śFor some lovely ice-cream?” she prompted.  Shane gave a little smile.  â€śOh, you’ll have to do better than that.”  Shane forced the smile into something wider.



“Now, clap hands”, Helen instructed.  Shane slapped his mittens together.  â€śThere’s a good baby!  Again.  That’s it.”  Emily giggled.



His mother went over to the radio and turned on a music station.  â€śDance to the music”, she ordered him.  Shane gave a plaintive look but then started to move his upper body to the beat.  â€śThat’s it!” his mother said and they all laughed.  Shane stopped.  â€śNo, keep it up.”  Shane resumed his bopping about and they were delighted.



Helen opened the side of the pen and helped Shane to his feet.  â€śNow whenever a visitor comes in I want you to stand and curtsey.”  Shane gave her a puzzled look.  She demonstrated by bending her right leg behind her left and holding her imaginary dress out at the sides between her forefingers and thumbs.



Shane looked down at his mittens.  He pushed his skirts out at the sides and bent his right leg like she had done.  They all clapped eagerly.  â€śAgain.  But hold your skirts up so we can see the layers of petticoats.”  Shane repeated as instructed and they were delighted.  â€śDon’t forget to keep smiling.”



“Now when someone compliments you on your pretty dress you are to turn around so they can see it from the back and then bend over to show off your beautiful panties”, Helen told him.  â€śOh isn’t your dress adorable”, his mother prompted.  Shane gave a rather pained look.  â€śNow, now, less of that or there will be no ice cream for you.”



Shane smiled, held out his petticoats again and turned around.  Then he bent over and they were able to see all the rows of frills on his panties.  â€śExcellent!  Now I want you to skip across the floor”, Helen told him.  He was about to frown when he stopped himself.  After all this, he didn’t want to jeopardise the ice cream at this stage.



He skipped across the room, although rather clumsily because of his enormous nappy.  The women were delighted with the way his petticoats flounced and gave glimpses of his frilly panties.



Having performed satisfactorily, Shane was put back in his pen and told to play with his toys.  This he did seemingly willingly – not wanting to jeopardise his treat.  He forced himself to smile anytime they paid him any attention and it seemed to keep them happy.



When lunch finally came, he was presented in the high-chair with the usual bowl of tepid vegetables.  He was disappointed that he still had to eat that gunge and frowned.  â€śNow, now”, his mother warned, “you still have to eat your vegetables.”  He sighed.  â€śRight that’s it”, she blurted, “no ice cream for you.”  Shane was devastated.  After putting up with all that humiliation, he still wasn’t getting his ice cream.



Not only that, but his mother poured prune juice over his vegetables and mashed it in.  Tears were rolling down Shane’s face by the time she brought the bowl over to him.  â€śNow I hope we’re not going to have any more trouble from you, are we?” she asked as she held a spoonful up to his mouth.  He shook his head as the tears continued to flow.  He opened his mouth and braced himself as she inserted the spoon.



He realised that he had to be good as gold to satisfy them.  Once the horrible meal was finished he resolved that he had no choice but to do what they wanted.  He tried to smile and play happily with his letter blocks while the rest of them tucked into their bowls of ice cream.



In the afternoon, Emily disappeared for a few minutes.  She returned asking “can my friends come in and see Shane?”  He braced himself in the play pen and Emily came in with four other eight-year-old girls who promptly burst out laughing.



“This is my baby uncle Shane”, Emily told them.  Shane got to his feet, forced a smile and curtsied.  The girls had to hold each other up.  â€śWhat a pretty baby dress”, one of them finally commented when she recovered.  Shane turned around as daintily as he could and bent over to another explosion of laughter.  â€śThose panties are so cute!  And the pink tights!  I remember my mommy wanted to make me wear an outfit like that when I was little but I refused”, another girl said.



When his mother came in with bowls of ice cream for the girls, Shane was skipping back and forth across the room.  â€śShall we give him a bowl of ice cream for being such a good little baby girl?”  When she returned with another bowl the girls had strapped him into his high-chair.  They had to stand on chairs themselves to reach.  â€śWho wants to feed him?”  â€śMe!”  â€śMe!”  â€śMe!”  â€śMe!”