Auntie Nun by Dara Janey

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Auntie Nun by DaraJaney 2009

When Sean’s parents were tragically killed on holidays, he was sent to his only remaining relative, his Aunt Kathleen. She was a nun in a convent school. It was an awkward situation to say the least but the school had boarders and so had the facility to accommodate Sean at least in the interim.

His Aunt explained that she had arranged with Mother Superior that he could stay with them until they came up with a better idea. He was sent to see the school nurse. She told him to strip down to his underwear. Then she made him lie down on her examination couch.

She gave him a general check over. “Now there is one special thing we need to do”, she told him. “I’m sure you will understand.” She pulled down his boxers. She took a plastic ring, pulled it open and slipped it over his genitals. He sat frozen wondering what this was all about.

She closed the ring again behind his testicles, then pushed a small plastic post through holes in the ring. Then she took another plastic piece that was shaped like a pen-s and pulled it over his member. She connected this to the post and produced a small padlock to hold it in place.

“There! I’m sorry but with all these girls around we can’t be too careful.” Sean was dumbstruck. She showed him the slit in the end of the plastic mould. “You can still do what you need to do.”

Sean looked for his boxers but they were gone. The nurse produced a large pair of navy briefs. He looked at them warily. There was no y-front or anything on them but they weren’t obviously girlish either.

Then the nurse produced a suspender belt. Sean had never seen one up close before and wasn’t entirely sure what it was. She put it around his waist. When she produced a black stocking, he finally protested.

“I’m sorry but if you are staying here you must wear the uniform like all the other pupils.” He looked around and could not see where his clothes had gone. He asked for his Aunt but was assured that she knew about this and was in agreement.

“The girls here are always demanding to be allowed wear trousers as part of their uniform. So we are not allowing any pupil in the school to wear trousers as it would add weight to their argument.”

In the end she pulled black stockings onto his legs and showed him how to button them to his suspenders. Once that was done, she found little resistance when she put his white blouse on him. She handed him a tie which he put on himself. Then she produced a navy gymslip. He winced but she pulled it over his head.

He stepped down from the couch and she pulled the pleated skirt of his gymslip down. It fell several inches short of his knees. She fetched a pair of shoes for him. The black patent leather shoes had a two inch heel.

He moved opposite the mirror. He squirmed with embarrassment when he saw himself. He tugged the hem of his gymslip nervously. Surely the tops of his stockings must only be barely covered. He was too embarrassed to check. The nurse just smiled at him and looked at his reflection.

“Would you like me to do something to your hair to make it look a bit more girlish?” He winced again at the thought but he did look like a boy in a dress and he might be better off if that wasn’t so obvious.

She left the room and returned with a curling tongs. She put just enough waves into his hair to make him look more convincing. “OK. Let’s introduce you to your class.” Sean wrung his hands anxiously in front of his gymslip at the prospect.

He walked along behind her. The heels forced him to take smaller steps and he had to scamper a little to keep up.

He squirmed again as she opened the door to a classroom. “Sister Nuala, we have a new pupil for you.” Sean walked into the room. Twenty girls watched as he stepped in.

“And what is your name?” Sister Nuala asked. Sean looked at the nurse. He wasn’t sure what to say. “This is Sean”, the nurse told them. He squirmed again. The girls burst out laughing. They looked him up and down – at his wavey hair, his gymslip, stockings and shoes. He presumed that they must know he was wearing suspenders.

“Take a seat Sean”, Sister Nuala said, barely suppressing her own amusement. He tottered nervously towards the only empty desk in the front row. He tried to hold down the back of his gymslip as he turned into the desk and sat. There were more sniggers. He felt the cold plastic of the seat against the bare skin between his panties and the tops of his stockings.

He was sure that his stocking tops must be visible to the entire class behind him. They sniggered but it could have been just because he was a boy in a gymslip. He tugged at his hem nervously.

Eventually the class settled down. Afterwards the girls all gathered around him. “So what does it feel like to be a girl?” He was mortified. By dinner time the whole school knew and everyone came by to stare.

When it came to bedtime the girls were surprised when the nurse brought him into the dormitory. They looked at each other with a mixture of concern and excitement. “Don’t worry girls. We’ve taken precautions,” she said with a smirk and left him by a vacant bed.

He tried to be discrete in keeping his eyes down as he and the girls undressed. His member was now testing the limits of his chastity device. It swelled a tiny bit but was allowed no more.

He slid into bed. Even the thought of all those girls in their underwear and nighties was enough to set him off. But the device prevented him from getting any proper arousal. He lay on his side unable to sleep because of the intense frustration.

So he continued for the rest of the week and the girls almost became used to having a boy in a gymslip in their midst. He hated it of course and was anxious to know what other options were being pursued but his Aunt never mentioned any. The school had no science classes and he hated the amount of time given over to “Domestic Sciences”, a euphemism for chores as far as he was concerned, and typing classes.

On Saturday, they were lined up for confession. The parish priest had come to hear them. Sean wondered as he entered the confessional if the priest knew. “Yes my son”, he said as he slid back the hatch. OK, so there was no point in pretending.

Sean described his frustration at being made to dress like a girl. The priest told him that he should be grateful that his Aunt had come to his aid in his time of need. By the end of his lecture, Sean almost felt guilty. Catholics!

“Now I want you to tell your Aunt how grateful you are”, the priest instructed. Sean agreed reluctantly. When he sought her out, he wasn’t so sure if this was a good idea, but he had promised the priest.

“Auntie, I want to thank you for taking me in and giving me a home”, he muttered. She was clearly pleased. “That’s so nice of you to say. I was afraid that you would resent having to dress like a girl and attend a convent.” Sean bit his lip. “I’ll tell Mother Superior that you are happy to stay then.” Sean nearly wet himself. But he couldn’t see how he could back out of it now.

“Let’s give you a proper hair-do to celebrate. We’ll go into town.” Sean squirmed. What had he got himself into?

Before they left she handed him a large bag. “You may as well give your old boy’s clothes to the charity shop in town since you won’t be needing them any more.” He wanted to cry.

He trooped into town after her wondering did the people in the town know he was really a boy. When they came to the charity shop she motioned him to go in. He handed the bag to the lady at the counter and looked at it wistfully. “Thank you, you’re so kind.” He tugged the hem of his gymslip nervously for the thousandth time and left the shop realising that he no longer had anything to wear except gymslips and stockings. His Aunt got him a perm at the hairdressers. “Now you are a proper lady.”

Sunday the girls were allowed to wear their own clothes. His Aunt fished out something from their general wardrobe. She was clearly delighted with the red and white polka dot dress. Sean tried not to look ungrateful. She gave him white stockings and suspenders to go with it and red shoes with an even higher heel. There was also a matching red clip-on bow. When he went to put the dress on he realised it had a petticoat attached.

Most of the girls in the school took advantage of the freedom to wear trousers on Sunday and he was one of the few to wear a pretty dress which everyone found so amusing. When he stood up from dinner a splinter on the leg of the table caught his stocking. He cried out and everyone looked. They sniggered as he pulled up his dress, revealing his petticoat, and fingered the hole in his white stocking. “Never mind”, his Aunt assured him, “I’ll get you a new stocking.” He tottered off after her amidst great tittering.

On Monday the sewing teacher finally got tired of his inability to pick it up. “We’ll have to send you to the junior school class to get the basics.”

He was further mortified at being sent in with the ten year olds. He stuck out like a sore thumb being so much bigger and in his navy gymslip in the middle of all the girls in their pink gingham dresses and white ankle socks.

Even at that level he struggled to pick it up. It was a long class and ended out of sequence with his original senior class. So he had to stay with the juniors for their next period which was a music class.

He had never learnt an instrument and struggled in this class too. That evening there were discussions. His Aunt told him he would have to stay in the junior class for a while until he caught up a bit more. He would have to work hard, she told him.

[archives]

Auntie Nun by Dara Janey

Part 2

The next morning as he got out of bed his Aunt handed him a pink gingham dress. “It’s the largest one we could find.” He protested but she insisted that he had to fit in with the class. The dress barely covered his navy knickers.

“You’ll have to wear these so”, she told him, handing him a pair of white opaque tights. He sighed heavily but did what he was told. He looked in the mirror and leaned forward a little. His navy knickers could be seen through the white tights. His Aunt handed him a pair of pink panties with three rows of white frills along the seat.

“No way! This dress is so short, people are going to see my … panties.” “That’s precisely why you must wear these pretty panties over your tights”, she told him.

He fought back the tears as he slumped his way towards the junior class in his short flared pink gingham dress, white tights and frilly panties that everyone was inevitably going to see.

The girls in his class were delighted. He looked by far the most sissy in the class. The whole school were highly amused. The junior girls were not boarders and so Sean was the only one in the whole convent wearing the pink uniform once they went home in the afternoon.

Once again on Saturday he protested to the priest at confession. But the only outcome was to find himself standing in front of his Aunt thanking her for being so kind to him. “That’s so good of you. I thought you would feel awkward among the little girls, especially having to dress like them.” He shrugged. “That’s great”, she continued, “because little Becky has a birthday party tomorrow and she was hoping you would come.”

So the next day Sean stood in front of the mirror in a pink party dress with several layers of petticoats, white tights with hearts down the side, ankle socks with pink lace around the tops. His hair was tied up with pink ribbons and he had a pair of white gloves and a white purse.

He looked at his reflection most unhappily. The dress, being made for a much younger girl was very short and he was concerned about his pink pettipants. “You do want to fit in with the girls in their party dresses, don’t you?” After what he said the previous day he couldn’t really get out of it now.

When he turned up at the party at lunchtime, few of the girls were in dresses at all and even those that were, were hugely amused at his sissy frilly dress. “Enjoy yourself now”, his Aunt said as she stepped back into the car. “I’ll be back at 8pm.” And she left him there squirming in his pink frilly dress. The girls laughed at his fancy tights, frilly socks and pink bows.

All day girls conspired to make him bend over to pick things up so that everyone got a great view of his pink pettipants. The girls played chasing games that often ended up with them rolling on the lawn. Becky’s mother told him that he wasn’t to play those games with them as he might dirty his dress or soil his white tights.

Becky’s little six-year-old sister and her friend wanted him to play with them and their dolls since he couldn’t play with the older girls. He resisted but they played around him with the dolls anyway while he sat primly in his petticoats and looked over enviously at the other girls. When his Aunt returned he was clutching a pretty doll that Becky had insisted on giving him as a present.

He was so fed up now stuck in the junior class in his pink gingham dress that he began to take secret little revenges. He persistently peed standing up and deliberately sprinkled the seat.

After a few days of this, he was rumbled. He was sent to the nurse. He emerged from the surgery wearing a thick cloth nappy. There was no chance of his short dress covering his now bulging frilly panties. When he walked into the class he headed straight for his desk, head down. The class burst out laughing and clearly his teacher was pleased that he was getting appropriate punishment for his misbehaviour.

The nurse made it clear to him that he would wear nappies for a week. She even shaved his lower regions and he saw the ample stock of nappies in case he was in any doubt. When he needed changing he was to report to her or to the nun who looked after the pre-schoolers, Sister Mary, since she had some experience of changing nappies.

It was mortifying for him to ask if he could leave the room. When the girls had to go, they just asked if they could go to the bathroom. He had to ask to go and have his nappy changed. Every teacher insisted that he say it out.

The first time that he had to report to the pre-school class she put him through the ringer. “Yes?” “I was told to come to you.” “For what?” He sighed. “To have my nappy changed.” The pre-schoolers were hysterical. None of them had needed nappies for a year now.

The second time that he had to go to the pre-school class, when he was changed, it turned out that his regular class had gone out on a field trip. He had to go back to the pre-schoolers and stay with them.

He sat awkwardly on the tiny plastic chair, his frilly panties stretched over his nappy, visible for all to see. He was ten years older than these kids but looked the most babyish in the room.

He had to stay with them the whole day. He grew increasingly grumpy at this further humiliation. He was dispatched to the punishment play-pen for being bold. The pen only contained babyish toys like rattles and large letter blocks. The other children teased him from the other side of the bars.

When he crawled around in the pen he gave everyone a spectacular view of his frilly panties and the outline of his cloth nappy could be seen under his panties and tights.

He needed to be changed mid afternoon. When he was escorted back by the nurse, his hands were strapped into mittens. “He tried to stop me putting another nappy on him so I had to disable his hands.” He was sent back to the pen. With his hands in mittens he couldn’t play with anything other than rattles and blocks now anyway. “And you’ve earned yourself a second week in nappies.” He looked up from the pen in shock.

Mothers came to pick up their daughters. They were astonished by the teenage child in the play pen, clearly wearing a thick nappy. When they were told he was a boy they were astounded.

When it came to dinner time he was sent to the dining area. His mittens were still strapped on and the girls were told they would have to spoon-feed him. Someone fetched a bib for added amusement and his food was cut up into tiny pieces and mashed together for spoon-feeding.

When he had been fed that, someone produced a baby bottle. He struggled and tried to resist but he was kept pinned down by a dozen girls and in the end had no choice but to su-k on it obediently and get it over with.

Obviously someone raided the costume department behind the stage. They tied a pink bonnet on his head. With his hands in mittens all he could do was push it back but they kept resetting it and eventually he just gave up resisting.

It took him ages to finish the bottle and then it was replaced with a large soother that was promptly pinned to his dress. They brought the play-pen into their study room and made him sit in it and play with the toys.

Eventually a nun came in and insisted that they do some study and Sean was left sitting in his pen with his rattles. He also realised that he was going to have to poop his nappy. He held out as long as he could but eventually the silence in the room was broken by flatulence. The girls looked up from their books and went “euw!”

[archives]

Auntie Nun by Dara Janey

Part 3

At this stage he had realised that he had better behave himself if he didn’t want his period in nappies further extended. The prospect of two weeks was bad enough. So he obediently allowed himself to be spoon-fed and bottle fed all the time. His mittens stayed on and they took advantage of his obedience by making him su-k his soother all the time and wear the pretty bonnet.

He spent his days now with the pre-school class but spent his time in the pen playing with the blocks and rattles and being teased by the four-year-olds. They loved to give him his bottles and relished telling Sister Mary that his nappy was wet or soiled.

It was coming towards the summer holidays. They would start a week after his fortnight in nappies. His Aunt discussed the options with Sister Mary. “All the other children will be away for the summer and I have to take my annual retreat with the silent order. What will we do with him?”

“I don’t mind keeping him here”, the Sister Mary said. “Mmmpppffff?” “Provided that I can keep him as a baby so that he’s much less trouble.” “MMMMPPPPFFFF!” His Aunt looked down at him in the pen. “I’m sorry honey but it’s the only option.” He tugged desperately at his mittens but it was no use. “Obviously I’ll have to keep those mittens on him”, Sister Mary observed.

The next week a large pink wooden high chair was produced. “Since I’ll be spoon-feeding and bottle-feeding you all summer, we need the proper equipment.” She strapped him in tightly and locked the tray firmly in place in front of him. “Now, you’ll be safe as houses.”

She went to prepare a bottle. He wriggled and twisted in the chair but the straps held him in place and there was nothing he could do to unlock the tray with his hands in mittens. He sat there obediently as she warmed the milk for his bottle.

A couple of days later a larger play-pen appeared. He was pushed inside and she locked the side-bars in place. “I need a pen that I can be sure he cannot get out of”, she explained. Sean examined the catch on the side bars. There was no way he could unlock it. He shook the bars and realised that the pen was very sturdily built.

Before the girls went off for their holidays a large cot was brought into the pre-school room. “Now honey. You’ll be taking two-hour naps in the afternoons and spending your nights from 8pm to 8am in your new cot”, she explained. “So that I can get some ‘me’ time.”

She fixed the side bars in place with a click. Again, Sean shook the bars and examined his new cot. He stood up and clutched the tops of the bars. There was no way he would be able to get out.

The girls from his original class came in. “Hi honey! You must be looking forward to the summer holidays”, they teased. Sean looked at all the dolls and teddies in his cot.

“The good news is that you won’t have to wear your junior uniform any more.” Sean looked up hopefully. Was there to be that one little reprieve?

The girls wheeled in a clothes rack which had a white sheet over it. This was removed with a flourish to reveal six large elaborately frilled baby dresses in cerise pink, lavender, lemon, peach, mint green and baby pink. The girls showed him the petticoats, matching panties, bonnets and booties.

Soon his uniform was whipped off him and he was put in the cerise pink dress. The matching panties were really bloomers elasticated just above the knee. Initially he thought they were way too big for him but they were actually quite snug over his huge nappy. His Aunt admired the rows of lace across the bum. They placed him in front of the mirror and he saw that the dress was short enough so that everyone could see the lace on his bloomers.

“You mustn’t keep him indoors all the time”, his Aunt said. “That’s fine”, Sister Mary said producing a pink leather harness. She threw it over his arms and tightened the straps before buckling it firmly. “Now girls, do you want to take him for a walk around the house before you go?” He was tugged out the door and had to waddle around the garden with a dozen girls fighting over his reins.

He was almost relieved to be back in his play-pen. “Right honey. You have a great summer”, his Aunt said as the girls all backed out of the room stealing one last glimpse.

Sean stood up in his pen, clutched the bars and looked up sadly. “Wave to Aunty,” Sister Mary instructed him. He mechanically waved a mitten as she left the room. “Right. Now it’s just you and me.”

When his Aunt returned after the summer retreat it was mid-afternoon. Sister Mary cautioned her that he was in the middle of his nap. They tip-toed into the dark room. She could hear his steady breathing from the cot. She crept closer.

His soother bobbed gently in and out and he clutched a teddy. She coughed slightly and he moved a little. His mittened hand came up and rubbed an eye. He stretched and opened his eyes. He seemed startled to see her. He sat up and clutched the bars. “Mmmpppffff!” “Hi honey, did you have a nice summer?” He glared at her.

Sister Mary pulled back his duvet. “I see that you’re wet love.” Sean looked down at his soggy nappy and looked quite glum. His Aunt was concerned. “Did he wet himself in his sleep?” “Yes”, the nun confirmed. “I don’t think he realises now when he’s wetting himself.” She lowered the side bars. “Now let’s get you changed.”

His Aunt was very concerned. “But does that means that he needs to wear nappies all the time now?” Sean studied the floor. “Absolutely. We’ll have to potty train him again!”

His Aunt watched as they went through the very familiar routine. He raised and lowered his bottom without needing to be asked and turned over when his bottom needed wiping or powdering. “There’s a little nappy rash there”, she explained spreading some cream on it. “He’s slept through his wettings a few nights now so I have to put double nappies on him overnight.”

She fetched his baby pink dress and zipped him in. Then she tied his bonnet on his head. “It’s a bit nippy out today”, she observed, flapping out a pair of thick pink tights. His Aunt tried to stifle her laughter.

He held out a foot obediently as she went to put his tights on. Then his matching frilly panties were pulled up over his tights. She brought him over to the play-pen. He sat down and immediately picked up a rattle and shook it.

“My goodness, he really seems to have taken to it”, his Aunt observed. Sean sat there glumly, realising now how he had gradually just become used to his babyfied state.

The girls all returned and were delighted to find him in his pretty baby dress. They fussed over him and insisted on feeding him and burping him etc.

He was still strapped into his high-chair when his Aunt told him “you’ll have to stay with the pre-schoolers until you regain your toilet control and don’t need nappies anymore.” She took off his mittens much to his delight. She also removed his bonnet. Then she unclipped his soother and took it from his mouth with a pop. He looked at it uncertainly as she put it away.

He was allowed out of the high-chair. “I’ll keep him in his baby dresses since they’re nice and short and handy for changing him.”

He sat amongst the pre-schoolers on the first day. It was all going fine until early afternoon when he felt sleepy and yawned. “Oh, are you missing your nap time?” He nearly fell off his miniature chair. So she felt it was best to let him nap.

His cot was still in the room so she brought him over to it. He was quite reluctant but his sleepiness got the better of him. He lay down and she put the side bars in place. He tossed and turned for ages. He was desperately tired but something was not at all right.

She reached into the cot and slipped the soother into his mouth. He looked around the room at the smiling children. He was mortified but fell asleep within minutes.

When he awoke his nappy was wet. She let him out of the cot and brought him to the changing table. He resisted because he hadn’t been changed in front of all the children before. “It’s a little late to be worrying about your dignity at this stage.”

He lay back while she went about her business. Eventually he was in a clean nappy and his tights and panties were restored. Several children were looking at him directly and sniggering. Then he realised that he had been su-king on his soother all the time. He spat it out but it dangled from his dress.

He sat down again with the pre-school class. Later he got into a dispute with a little girl over one of the books. He gave her a little shove but forgot his superior strength. She fell down and bawled crying.

The nun brought him back to the play-pen. “Now you can stay in there for the rest of the afternoon.” Then she fetched the mittens and put them back on him to make sure that he couldn’t leave the pen.

It was a sunny afternoon and she decided to take the class outside. She brought the pen outside too. He sat down again and played with the blocks. A few minutes later she insisted on putting the bonnet on him. “Don’t want you getting burnt.”

His Aunt came in later to see how he was getting on. She was surprised to see him back in his pen with his hands in mittens again and his pretty bonnet still tied under his chin even though they were back inside.

She looked down at him with her eye-brows raised. He realised that he was su-king on his soother again. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for the pre-school class yet.” So he was bottle and spoon fed in his high-chair again and put in the cot at 8pm.

[archives]

Auntie by Dara Janey

Part 4

Over the next few days they made various attempts to help him “grow up” again. He was told to let them know when he needed to use the toilet and they would let him. But he was so used to just wetting himself, he never remembered to ask.

It became obvious that he could not sleep without his soother and after sleeping he continued to su-k on it unless someone removed it.

They insisted that he was going to be spoon and bottle fed as long as he needed nappies, in an attempt to incentivise him. But it was pointless. He couldn’t help himself.

After another confrontation with a pre-school kid he was being dispatched to his pen again. “What are we going to do?” his Aunt asked Sister Mary as they strapped his mittens back on to make sure he stayed in the pen. “We can’t keep him here as a baby for the rest of his life.”

They stood up having disabled his hands. “Well why not?” his Aunt mused. “Mmmpppffff?” “We are going to be here in this convent for the rest of our lives. So how is it so different?” “Mmmpppfffff?”

They looked down on him. “You know you’re right”, his Sister Mary said. “MMMMPPPPFFFF!” “I’ll go and heat up some milk for his bottle.” His Aunt looked down on him. “Well it looks like you’ve found your vocation in life!” She turned and walked away. Sean grabbed the bars. “MMMMPPPPPFFFF!” But nobody paid any attention. He wanted to shout out a protest and realised that there was absolutely nothing to stop him spitting out the soother and speaking. But he really needed his soother given the prospect of spending the rest of his life in nappies and baby dresses.

He plonked down on his heavily nappied bottom. He started blubbering. He picked up a teddy and hugged it desperately. When they returned with his bottle he was rocking his teddy in his arms. He looked up and his lace-framed face was tear-stained. His Aunt shook his bottle. “Oh come on honey. This is your life now. It’s obviously God’s will. Accept it.”

They decided that it would be good practice for the senior girls to change Sean’s nappies, bottle and spoon feed him. Each and every girl had to take a turn for a day. As he lay back on the changing table his pen-s pressed against the hard plastic of his chastity device.

The girls were all fascinated by it. They would wiggle the lock, twist the ring behind his testicles, tug at the plastic cover and titter and the absolute security of it. Sean would close his eyes and try to avoid writhing too much in frustration.

Lying in his cot he would have to try to immerse himself in his babyhood to try to reduce the inhibited erections. He would su-k on his soother, hug his dolly and suggle up in his cot.

Once a month he was allowed relief. Just the sight of himself in the mirror in his pink frilly baby dress and bonnet, his tights and frilly panties down around his ankles would be enough to have him ejaculating in seconds. Then the device would be replaced in a flash.

He kept waiting to be freed from his second babyhood. At the end of each school year, he hoped that they would finally tire of it but he would spend the summer in the care of the nuns and each September a new wave of girls would be delighted to be changing him, feeding him, burping him. He had a constant supply of pretty baby dresses each one trying to outdo the previous one such that none of his dresses covered any of his nappy, he could barely see out of his bonnets for all the frills and the depth of lace on his panties practically doubled the thickness of his nappy.

He never once was able to escape from his pen, cot or high-chair. They were remarkably reliable in double checking his straps and the catches. He always remained where he was until someone decided to free him.

Occasionally he seemed to get some control on his toilet but no sooner would that happen than he would suddenly find himself wetting and soiling himself without thinking again. He wasn’t to know that laxatives and diuretics were being deployed in his food whenever he appeared to be gaining some control.

Every year they celebrated his birthday. They got a big creamy cake with a big ‘1’ stuck in it. On one of these occasions he realised that he couldn’t remember what age he really was. How many years had it been since he was put in nappies and baby dresses? 5? 6? He actually couldn’t remember. Could it be 10? He kept a look out and eventually saw that it was June 2009. But in what year did he come to the school? He couldn’t remember. Dates had ceased to have relevance for him other than the cycle of the school terms.

Eventually it didn’t seem to matter that much. He was obviously going to be a baby for life. He would be eternally one year old.