One morning when the mums were out hiking, Monica noticed that Baby Bobbie’s booties had gotten some sticky gunk on them. She didn’t know how it happened but assured him “we’ll get those cleaned. I’ll get one of your other pairs.” It wasn’t until she spotted the straps under the frilly lace at his ankles that he realised she had selected his crawling trainers. “Nnnggghh!” “It looks like these strap on here”, she commented as she buckled his booties on.
She walked away and was surprised when she turned around and saw Baby Bobbie crawling after her. “Nnnggghhh!” “If you prefer to crawl that’s ok”, she shrugged. “Must be hard to waddle in that thick nappy”, she understood.
When the mums arrived back their toddlers rushed over for hugs. Emma saw Baby Bobbie crawling towards her with a frustrated look behind his soother. “He’s been crawling all morning”, Monica told her. His mother smiled, recognising the crawling trainers but said “That’s fine if that’s what he prefers. He’s been crawling more and more lately.” Robert cringed in frustration. Monica just nodded accepting that he was becoming more babyish all the time.
She had no reason to change his booties again so Robert had to crawl around everywhere for the rest of his week, his mother quite content to let everyone think this was what he preferred now. Everybody just seemed to accept it as all part of Baby Bobbie becoming more babyish all the time.
Towards the end of the week while Baby Bobbie was suc-kling Sue commented: “You know I think he’s developing some baby fat!” The women all giggled. “Maybe you should continue feeding him nothing but formula when you get home”, Hilda suggested. They all laughed but at this stage Robert wouldn’t put anything past them.
On their final morning, Baby Bobbie was crawling around the nursery and noticed that people were giggling behind him. He was used now to people laughing at his baby dress, his bonnet, frilly nappy cover and tights but most of the mothers had become used to him now so why were they suddenly giggling and sniggering.
He didn’t know it but they had made him a new nappy cover and put him in it that morning. They had sewn “I (heart) crawling” on the seat of his nappy cover so that it showed when he crawled around. He just frowned wondering what they found so amusing now.
His mother discretely put him back in his normal booties so he could waddle out to the cat. There was another burst of giggling when he climbed into the car and his booster seat. He had had to endure the usual laughter from passers by when they stopped for nappy changes at the services on the way home and again wondered at the extra outburst when he bent over to climb into the car.
He was relieved when they arrived home and he no longer had the constant reminders that he was still stuck like a one-year old while the toddlers were growing up quickly.
When he waddled in the front door, he noticed some odd smells. His mother led him to his bedroom. The smells grew stronger. When she opened the door, the reason for the strange smells became obvious.
His room had been totally redecorated while they were away and one of the smells was of paint. It was all pinks and pretty pastel colours as well as heavily perfumed. He waddled in a little dazed by the surprise conversion of his bedroom. His mother steered him as he looked around. She pushed him into a large play pen and closed the side gate with a click before he could really comprehend what was happening.
He saw that the pink wooden side bars came up to his chest! It dawned on him that this complete redecoration of his room meant he was not getting out of nappies and baby dresses any time soon.
His mother left the room. He examined the side gate. It was locked in place with a baby-proof catch. He pawed at it but there was no way he could open it. He pawed at the wooden bars. It was very solidly made. He raised a leg to see if he could climb out but his pink tights just slid along the smoothly varnished surface.
His mother came back in. “NNNgggghhhh!” Baby Bobbie shook the side bars in protest. “Aw don’t you like your special play-pen? It has everything you need in there. There are rattles and balls built into the side bars. You’ve got your animal blocks and favourite dollies.”
His mother had carried the other two baby dresses she’d brought for his holiday in from the car. She opened the wardrobe which had been painted pastel pink with princess stickers applied on all sides. His other four baby dresses were the only clothes hanging inside.
He looked desperately around the room trying to see where his boy’s clothes might be, not that he’d needed them for over a year now. But all he saw were girly things. His mother opened drawers to put away the other accessories he’d had with him and all he could see in the drawers were bonnets, nappy covers and tights.
Rita appeared and beamed down at Baby Bobbie in his playpen. “Thank you for supervising the redecoration”, his mother said. “And for arranging all his baby clothes in the wardrobe and drawers.” “Oh my pleasure”, Rita assured her. “We raised a lot of money for the women’s refuge by bringing all his old clothes to the bring-and-buy sale.” Baby Bobbie peed into his nappy.
Then he noticed that his bed in the corner had been replaced by a large high-sided cot. It looked just as secure as his play-pen. Next time his mother came into the room he looked up as plaintively as he could from his play-pen. He suc-ked cutely on his soother and fluttered his eyelashes hoping to pull at her heart strings. But his mother just asked if he was ready for his next feed. He sighed. He was hungry.
He was sitting in his high chair having had his bottle and awaiting his bowl of mushy food when he noticed his old bed had been left out by the gate with a “FREE” notice hanging on it.
“Nnnggghhh!” His mother came with his bowl. “What’s wrong?” He pointed a mittened hand out the window, struggled to get out of his high-chair and protested “Nnnngggghhhh!” Some passing parents had just come along with a young girl and were contemplating the free bed.
Baby Bobbie kicked his pink legs and wriggled helplessly in his high chair. The parents lifted the bed between them and carted it off, the little girl skipping along excitedly. “It’s ok baby”, his mother tried to reassure him, “it will be a few years at least before you need a bed again.”
Topic: Shoulda gone to camp (Read 23441 times)
