Chap 1 - Objective: Control Scott was settled into the seat of the bus. He wouldn't reach his final destination for thirty-four hours, including a three-hour lay over tomorrow. His Mom had packed his suitcase, which was now in the luggage compartment below, and he carried his backpack with a few dollars, some sports magazines, his new Gameboy and a bag lunch. Before leaving home, his Mom had taken the bag to put in some clean underwear and socks, "Right! Like I'm really going to change them on the bus," he had retorted. As the miles rolled by, Scott was looking forward to spending the summer at Aunt Millie's. His Mom said the change would be good for him, but he figured she was just glad to get him out of the house. He had to admit he was happy to be gone, too. So many rules. He was sixteen, "almost a man," he figured. But she... well, it wasn't just her... it was the neighbors, the cops, the judges, the whole "system" was against him. He needed to get back in control. Deep in thought, Scott put a Marlboro in his lips and pulled out his lighter. Then he realized he'd need to wait until the next stop and returned it to the pack. He had written his Aunt about a month ago, and she welcomed him. "A chance for you to get a break and meet some new friends," she answered. He wouldn't really miss his friends either. All Tom and Sammy ever did was get him in trouble. They'd go out for a "fun time" and steal some CDs at the record store or some beers at the liquor store. A couple of times they were caught. His friends bailed on him, the shopkeeper caught "the little kid", and he was left waiting for the cops to arrive. The first time he had gotten so nervous he wet his pants. His friends wouldn't let him forget it. His mother wouldn't either. Three or four times he came home drunk after a night out with the guys. He didn't remember much about it, except that he woke up in a wet bed. After the second "incident", his Mom had put an old shower curtain under his sheets to keep the mattress from getting more stained. He was sure the plastic was so noisy the neighbors could hear when he turned over in bed. His "tough guy" attitude worked on everyone but his Mom. She usedhumiliation to maintain a small degree of control. He knew that if he went too far, she'd do something to make him regret it. And he was a fairly easy target for her. He was a "late bloomer" who hadn't had a significant growth spurt inseveral years; he was less than five feet tall. His small stature and smoothcomplexion caused people to think he was in Elementary School, rather than tenth grade. And his long hair and high voice caused more than one person to call him "Miss". *Plus* he was now wetting his pants and wetting his bed like a little baby. Target-mania! When Mom was pissed, it was open season on Scotty Byrd, so he avoided her. Becky Byrd was only sixteen herself when he was born. The boy's father moved them hundreds of miles away from her family, abandoning them before the wedding. His Mom was a "black sheep", and had no contact with her parents or sister in nearly seventeen years. Until now. Becky had been surprised at the warm reception her letter received from her older sister, Mildred. Even after sixteen years, half of Becky's life, her big sister was still watching out for her. When Millie heard of all the trouble her nephew was causing, she offered to help; to take him in for the summer so Becky could get a break, maybe get a little sanity in her life. Becky jumped at the chance to have Scotty out of the house, even if only for a few months. Now the boy was on his way to his Aunt Millie's, a woman, a family, hedidn't know. And Scott was looking forward to getting away from it all. Thissummer will be great! he kept telling himself with a smile. I'll have the run of the town! He looked at his watch -- 10am -- only thirty-one more hours. *Only?* Tomorrow at 9am he'd be changing buses, with a three-hour layover, then five more hours to his Aunt's. Scott's thoughts returned to his Mom. He bit his lip. All her rules! "Justleave me alone! I'm not a baby anymore!" he had yelled at his mother on more than one occasion. "I'm sixteen and you treat me like a baby. Why do you have to control my life?" He'd slam the door, gone for another two or three days. Trying to clear his mind, he pulled out his Gameboy. It was still in its packaging, a going away present Scott had "acquired" for himself. He unwrapped it and started playing. A gurgle in his stomach made him look at his watch again. "Already past noon. Time for lunch," he said aloud to no one. As he pulled out his lunch, Scott noticed for the first time a large envelope in the back of his pack. Sealed inside was another envelope, pastel blue. It had nursery print on it with teddy bears, toy blocks, and an ad extolling the virtues of Pull-Ups Training Pants for Boys. "Mommy, wow! I'm a Big Kid now!" it said in bold print. It made the tune run through Scott's head. Once again he despised how his mother liked to humiliate him, a sixteen- year-old--almost a man, though late in showing signs. And she chose *this* envelope, probably as a reminder of the bed wetting and pants wetting incidents. "If she told Aunt Millie, I'll... I'll..." He couldn't decide what he'd do, but he was sure it would be severe. Sometimes, when she wanted to be particularly cruel, she'd refer to him as "Little Skippy" in front of others. He would steam! He felt "Scotty" was bad enough, but that's what everyone called him, and he wasn't going to get them to change. He saw the use of his old baby name not only as an insult, but as a reflection on his lack of "mature" features. "But you used to like that name," she'd say in a "poor little baby" tone. "Yeah, when I was two!" and he'd storm out of the room. Scott looked around to make certain no one on the bus had noticed the envelope--or his emotions. He slipped the envelope out of the backpack. "What is this? Homework for the summer? It must be two inches thick!" He had been speaking out loud again before catching himself. Containing his emotions had never been one of Scott's strong points. Since he was in the back of the mostly empty bus, he figured the engine noise had covered his outburst. He turned the envelope over. On the back, the flap was sealed with a "Pull-Ups for Boys" diaper sticker. Scott threw the envelope in the aisle in disgust. When some passengers turned to look, he decided he'd better hide it in his pack.*Whatever* it contained would be going in the trash at the next stop. Scott returned to his Gameboy, trying to calm himself. His stomach reminded him why he had first gone into the backpack: hislunch. "Probably a bottle of warm milk and some baby food," he muttered tohimself. No. As he inventoried the bag lunch, he found a very conventional PBJ sandwich, an apple, chips and a packaged fruit drink. *And* in the bottom of the bag, a note: We're looking forward to your stay with us. I gave your mother this note and an envelope with a surprise for you. Please be sure to open it right away. Love always, Auntie Millie Scott took a bite of the sandwich -- a little soggy. She had signed it "Auntie" Millie. With the "babyness" of the title, he was upset again. The whole thing was really bugging him. "Little Skippy", the bedwetting, pants wetting, Mom's control--even the name "Scotty"--he wanted to put it all behind him and get a clean break, if only for the summer. Everything will change when I get to Aunt Millie's, he assured himself, Who's in control, what people call me, *everything*. He sat back and thought for a moment. Okay, maybe I'm over-reacting. Her note seems warm enough. The envelope was probably just a coincidence, he convinced himself. She probably used it because it was handy. He looked around once more to be sure no one was watching, pulled out the envelope and opened it. Scott couldn't believe what was before him. His Mom had put him on the bus so he could have "a nice summer at Aunt Millie's." Now he finds that he has 24 hours to reach a decision, probably the biggest he'd ever face. He continued reading his Aunt's letter: ... and though she doesn't know what awaits you, she has agreed that if you won't spend the summer here, she doesn't want you back. You've been too much trouble for her and she needs a break. If you don't go through with this, you will not be welcome here, and you'll never see your mother again. Your choice. Scott got up from his seat. He had to move around. No way this was for real. It *had* to be a joke! But from the look of things, it wasn't. At sixteen, he had the option of being a "free man" and starting his own life (never to see his family again), or to follow his Aunt's demands. This is for your own good, you're getting into so much trouble that it's obvious you've lost control of your life and you need someone to take over, to give you a fresh start. Though we are strangers, nephew, I care for you dearly and only want what's best for you. What's best for you. The words repeated in his mind. He sat down again to continue reading. If you should decide to go through with this, you are to write a letter to me, stating that it's *your* choice, that this is what you truly want to do. I want to be certain you have thought it through, so below is what you'll write. You'll find a pencil and paper in the envelope. Should you decide this is what's best for you, you will write it word-for-word and sign it at the bottom. What's best for *me*, Scott thought, No one has ever cared what's best for me. All anyone's ever wanted was to control me. Maybe, just maybe, this will really be my chance for a change. Scott read over what was be to *his* request if he complied: Dear Auntie Millie, More baby talk! This is your nephew, Scotty. As I'm sure you know, I've been getting into a lot of trouble around here. I'm afraid I'm out of control, and my Mom doesn't want me around. There's something I want to ask you to do for me. Please do it! If you don't, I don't know what I'll do. I know it's a strange request, but I'm sure it will be what's best for me. I'd like to come to your house for the summer. Mom wants me out so she can have a break and I really need a place to stay. But I know I'll be just as much trouble for you unless you help me. I think if I could get a fresh start I could learn to be a good boy, instead of getting into all the trouble I do. I need some time with no pressures, where others are making the decisions for me. Mom's probably told you that I've really been stressing out. It's gotten to where I've been wetting my bed and wetting my pants. Mom did tell her! Well... Here's what I'd like you to do: Would you *please* help me to become a baby again? What? If I go back to acting like, and being treated like a toddler, I'm sure I could grow up a good boy. I hear you make your own cloths. Could you please make a bunch of baby clothes for me? I'd like to wear and use diapers, too--for "everything". It may be messy at times, but I'm sure it would help me be the baby I need to be. Like I'm really going to do that! It would help for me to have no control over my life, just like a baby. I need someone to dress me and bathe me and change my diaper. I need someone to put me to bed and get me up in the morning. I need someone to make me take a nap and take me out on walks. I need someone to put a bib on me when I eat, and feed me from time to time, and when I'm done, someone to wipe the mess off my face. I'll act like a toddler wherever I am. You can tell everyone I had a bad fever or something and got permanentbrain damage, that I'm now a two-year-old inside. "She's *got* to be kidding!" It was out loud again. Quiet! Quiet! QUITE! he told himself. They don't know me, and I'll do my best so they never know the truth. Everyone says I look much younger than sixteen, so you could make me your eleven year old toddler. What? Sometimes I may try to act too grown-up. When I do, you should let me know it's not proper for a two-year-old, and put me back in my place. I'll be a good little boy. If I'm not, I know I will get a spanking. I know I need this, *please* do it for me! Yeah, Right! I haven't liked my baby name "Little Skippy" since I was five or six, but it doesn't matter what *I* like. So if you want to, please call me "Little Skippy" like when I was a baby. Not a chance! I need to be a helpless little baby. My only other option is to run away so I will never cause Mom anymore trouble. Would you send some clothes and a diaper so I can change before I arrive? Please? But don't let Mom know. Please Auntie Millie, I know I've been bad, but I want another chance. You're my only hope! If you have any room in your heart for me, you'll do this. Your obedient toddler nephew, Little Skippy "SHE'S SERIOUS!" Scott shouted. This time he *did* get the attention ofothers in the bus, and sank low into the seat. She *is* serious, Scott kept the words to himself this time, That's not what I want. Scott stared out the window for a long time. He was about to meet his Aunt for the first time, yet if he wanted to see any of his family again, this would have to be his request. I could go out on the street alone, if I wasn't so chicken inside. I could go to my Grandparents, if they were alive. I could go to my father's, if I had any who he was. He had never asked about his Dad. For the first time in his life, he wasregretting it. Or, I could go to Aunt Millie's... He read the letter over again and put it and the envelope in his backpack. He needed to sleep on it. He awoke when the PA blared. "Orange Grove stop. Five minutes. You'll have twenty minutes to get some dinner. We'll pull out at 7:30." Scott looked at his watch. It was 7:05pm. Decision time, he thought. Do I start the "second babyhood" Aunt Millie insists on? Or do I throw it away and start the "free life" I said I wanted? The bus pulled in and the doors opened. Scott straggled off the bus with his backpack and jacket. He lit a cigarette and headed for the nearest trash can. Heading back to the bus, he examined his ticket. Aunt Millie had sent him an "Excursion Pass" which would allow him to go to any destination in the country. Scott knew he had made his choice, and he'd stick with it. He wasn't sure what lay ahead, "But that's what life's all about," he told himself. He crushed the cigarette under his foot, climbed aboard the mostly-empty bus and again laid claim to the back row of seats. He tried to relax as he popped open a soda. He had used the last of his money to buy dinner and a 6-pack of Mountain Dew. *I* will control this, he told himself. *I* will make this decision for myself. It doesn't matter what Mom wants. I will start a new life, and it will be because *I* want to. She *will not* take this decision from me. Then, less sure, And I'll follow through, whatever the cost. After the bus got underway, Scott picked up his backpack and stepped into the small bathroom to relieve himself. As he came out, even over the roar of the bus engine, Scott could hear the crinkle of the diaper he had put on. Aunt Millie had included it in the envelope to "try it out", sort of "practice getting used to it." It had taken the boy ten minutes to get the diaper on right. He'd never tried to diaper himself, in fact he hadn't worn a diaper since he was three. He could feel the bulk beneath, above and around his body. The too-small sweat pants he was wearing made the diaper more obvious. He was mortified to think anyone might actually notice. But he was in the back row, with no one near him. He pulled out Aunt Millie's instructions, the blank paper and pencil, and wrote the letter. After all, he rationalized, She wouldn't really have me do this the whole summer. And she wouldn't really want "dirty" diapers. He was confident things were not going to be that tough. He just needed to get in the door and then he could drop the pretense. And besides, that old woman can't *make* me keep playing this game. I'll fight her off, or I'll just run. I may be small, but I'm quick! Yeah? said a voice within him, Then how come the police caught you *four* times? As the bus came to a stop, the doors opened and two loud teenage boys boarded. Scott looked up and saw them heading for *his* back row. He quickly stuffed Aunt Millie's package in his backpack as they approached; he didn't want any questions. He put on his "tough guy" facade as they sat next to him. He felt cornered in the back row of the bus, but Scott knew how to feel secure. He put on his most cherished property, his expensive leather jacket. Well, actually, it cost him nothing. Like the Gameboy, it was an item which he could not afford but felt he deserved. So, like the Gameboy, Scott "procured" it for himself. It was compensation for all the trouble the "system" caused him, and he felt it completed his "tough guy" image. The two boys were actually quite friendly, and tried to start a conversation with Scott. He'd answer, but was too defensive to socialize at the moment. He successfully stifled the interaction. "So where you heading?" the shorter one asked after ten minutes of silence. "Uh, to Florence Street Station. I'm spending the summer at my Aunt's." Scott shifted nervously as he thought about what lay ahead of him. As he moved, he heard a crinkle. The diaper! came the sudden realization. He'd been so busy being a "tough guy", impressing these boys, that he'd forgotten his own state. His countenance must have shifted, because the taller one asked, "Everything okay? Suddenly you don't look so good." "Yeah, everything's fine... No it's not... Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom." Scott carefully got up, crinkled his way past the boys and locked the bathroom door. He removed the plain white disposable and zipped it in his backpack. He sat on the toilet for several minutes, trying to get his heart to slow down. As he returned to his seat, the boys were grinning to each other and looking closely at his pants. He was certain they had heard the diaper and were now trying to check for sure. Scott relaxed, however, since there was nothing for them to see. He stared at the dark landscape passing the window and he guzzled another Mountain Dew. He took off his leather jacket and carefully folded it on his lap, undeserving of its "rebel" symbololgy when he was really such a wimp. He knew others might learn about his diapers, but he wasn't quite ready.Scott kept to himself until the boys got off about an hour later. As he drank another soda, he thought of what lay ahead of him. I couldn't handle wearing a diaper for twenty minutes! How can I do it for the summer? Scott reached for another soda. Without realizing it, he'd already finished the 6-pack. He used the bathroom again, then unzipped his backpack, pulled out his Gameboy, and leaned back. The roar of the engine and the rhythm of the road were very relaxing. I'dbetter take a leak one more time, he thought just as he fell asleep. "Son... Son... Okay, it's time to get up!... Hey!... Kid!... It's wakey-wakey time!" The boy heard the far-away voice and was brought to consciousness as someone shook him. "It's the end of the line," the driver said, once he was certain the boy was awake enough to comprehend. "You change buses here," then he paused, "and from the looks of things, *you* need a change too." The meaning wasn't understood, so the driver pointed to the boy's pants. Scott was awake now! "I'm sorry! I... I'm sorry! I...," he stammered. "It's okay, kid. Happens more than you'd think." "I'm *really* sorry," the boy was at a loss of how to explain himself. "Anyway," the driver continued, "It's no big deal. I'll get you a sponge and you can wipe down the seat for me." Scott checked his watch, 9:17am. "You've got time," the driver informed him. "We pulled in behind schedule, but your bus doesn't leave for over two hours; Florence Street, right?" Scott nodded. As he stood, the diaper fell from his open backpack. The driver was laughing as he turned toward the front, "Looks like you should wear that thing next time!" Don't worry, I will, came the realization. Scott scooped up the diaper and his Gameboy, zipped them into the pack and followed the driver for the sponge. After cleaning the seat, Scott surveyed his condition. His pants were soaked. No little pee spot here, his sweats were wet from his waist to his knees. Oh, no! What will Aunt Millie say? Scott sank into the seat, but jumped back up when he felt the cold pants hit his legs. He checked his back-side. It was worse that the front, wet to his shoes. Scott gave the sponge back to the driver who was shaking his head. "Eleven years old and still wetting your pants." "I'm SIXTEEN!" the boy protested, realizing too late this didn't make his position any better. The driver just nodded. "Well, Mister Sixteen-Year-Old," he said with a grin, "I pulled your suitcase so it wouldn't transfer to your next bus. I figured you *might* like to change." As he left the bus, Scott held the backpack in front of his pants. But people couldn't miss the darkness on his gray sweats. And they stared. And they pointed. And they giggled. One boy, probably an obnoxious twelve, hollered, "Did the little boy have an accident?" Scott was about to charge the runt, but the driver said, "You have more important things to worry about right now. The Men's Room with a shower is over there. Best clean yourself up." He considered tying his jacket around his waist, but it was too valuable to chance a stain or a smell. Scott grabbed his backpack, jacket and suitcase, and headed in the direction the driver was pointing. As he neared the Men's Room, a boy about five was being led in by his Dad. It was obvious this boy had the same problem. "Daddy, that boy needs a change, too." The five-year-old's finger was pointing to Scott's wet pants. Scott realized his arms were so tired he had dropped the suitcase and backpack to his sides. His wet pants had been fully visible to all. He hesitated a moment. He didn't want to go in with that boy, but then he saw the twelve-year-old across the room. Better with the five-year- old, Scott thought as he dashed through the door. "Will you help that boy, too, Daddy?" the little boy asked. He raised his arms to allow Daddy to remove his shirt. The man looked at Scott apologetically and said, "No, he's a big boy and can change himself." The Pull-Ups tune started running through Scott's head once again,"Mommy, wow! I'm a Big Kid now!" As his father removed his shoes, thefive-year-old asked, "If he's a big boy, how come he peed his pants? Do big boys pee their pants, Daddy?" "Uh, well... well... accidents happen." The man was obviously trying to get the boy to drop it as he said, "Let's get *you* finished. Mommy's waiting." "Okay, Daddy... Daddy?" "Yes, Scotty?" Scotty? The older boy grinned at the five-year-old, Looks like we have more in common than just wet pants. "Does he have to wear diapers to bed, too?" Scott had heard enough! He entered a stall, locked the door, sat on the toilet and plugged his ears. "Mommy, wow! I'm a Big Kid now!" wouldn't stop playing. Scott hung his head and cried softly. Though Scott was humiliated, the man was certainly "kind andunderstanding". Just the type of treatment he could expect all summer at Aunt Millie's. He wasn't sure he could go through with it. He was startled from his thoughts by a knock. He could see the man and boy peering through the crack. "You okay? Sorry about that. Scotty didn't mean anything. He's just a curious boy." The five-year-old stuck his head under the door. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry." As he pulled his son from the floor, the man asked once again, "Are yougoing to be okay?" Scott let out a sniffled "Yes", and the man and boy left. After the man and five-year-old had left him alone in the Men's Room, Scott lit a cigarette and pulled a key from his backpack. He unlocked the suitcase and stepped out of the stall to be sure no one was around. He was nervous. He was about to see, for the first time, the clothes Aunt Millie had sent for him to wear on this last leg of his journey. Inside the suitcase he found a large sealed box with a note to his mother, Becky, Please just put this box in a suitcase for your son's trip here. It has a "special surprise" for him, and contains everything he'll need to make his trip more productive. You'll also find, along with this box, a sealed envelope and a note to your son. Please hide the envelope in his carry-on luggage, and put the note where he is sure to find it once on the bus; perhaps in his lunch. Do not look in these packages or ask me about them. Trust that I'm going to help my little sister tame her rebellious baby. Your Loving Sister, Millie PS: I'm so glad we're in contact again. It's been so long. I'll consider it my mission to help you control your son. So Mom really doesn't know, Scott thought as he examined the still unopened package. On the outside of the box was an envelope addressed to him. Inside he found another note from "Auntie" Millie and a set of instructions. Each step of his "transition" was detailed on a numbered index card. He was to complete each one before going on to the next. The note concluded, This will be your last opportunity to dress yourself for some time, so enjoy! Let's see if you can follow these simple instructions, and we'll see if you'll be ready for responsibilities any time soon. Scott was chilled at the cruel tone of the note. He wanted some measure of control, so he figured he'd "do it by thenumbers". This was apparently also a test; if he failed to follow her instructions exactly... Well he might regret it for the rest of the summer. STEP 0 - REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE From this moment, until you return home, you are not a sixteen-year-old named "Scotty". You are LITTLE SKIPPY, an eleven year old boy with the mind of a two year old toddler. A "simple" child who is more comfortable being treated like the toddler he believes himself to be. Scott examined himself. People still believed this "late bloomer" to be much younger than his true age. Without the height, body hair or deep voice of other boys his age, he was often mistaken for eleven. But could he successfully play the role his Aunt had for him? Could he pretend to be two? And do it without falter for the entire summer? STEP 1 - PULL BOX FROM SUITCASE Simple enough. One down. Scottwas apprehensive about what the following cards might bring. He was going to look through the remaining cards, but decided it might be best if each were a "surprise". STEP 2 - UNDRESS COMPLETELY AND PLACE CLOTHES IN SUITCASE. Remove *everything*. This includes such "big boy" accessories as a watch or other jewelry. Place *all* of your big boy things in the suitcase. You should be as naked as the day you were born. The only thing not in the suitcase at this time should be the box and the cards you are holding. The boy removed his shoes and socks, and stripped himself of his wet sweat suit and underwear. He folded the items and placed them in the suitcase. He pulled one last cigarette out, lit it, and put his backpack in the suitcase. He checked his watch. Oops! He removed the watch and high school ring and dropped them on top of the other items. He still had two hours, so he pulled his Gameboy out to play. But realizing he didn't know how long this would take, he carefully packed the Gameboy in its original box and laid it on top of the backpack. He tried his best to bury his sweats under the other items, being apprehensive of Aunt Millie's attitude when she finds out he had wet his pants... Again. Then he carefully folded his precious leather jacket and placed it in thesuitcase last. This was the final vestige of the "tough guy" this small, prepubescent boy liked to portray. He scanned his body, double checking. There were no "big boy accessories" left. In fact *nothing* which made him look any older than eleven. STEP 3 - OPEN THE BOX The items in this box are packed in the order you will require them for dressing. This took him a couple minutes since he had nothing with which to cut the tape. STEP 4 - PUT ON YOUR SOCKS AND THEN YOUR SHOES We don't want your little feet to get cold. The blue socks were ankle length and had Sesame Street characters on them. He sat on the toilet and put them on. The characters were only on one side of each sock, so Scott decided to wear them to the inside, where they might be less noticed. On one side of each white tennis shoe was a baby "Simba" from The Lion King. Unlike the socks, there was no choice here, "Simba" would be visible to anyone glancing at his shoes. He put them on and used the Velcro to fasten them. STEP 5 - PUT ON YOUR DIAPER The panel with the fastening tapes goeson your behind. The panel with the Looney Tunes characters goes in front. Put your diaper on securely, we don't want any leaks. Be sure to use the Baby Wipes first, and put lots of baby powder all over your body. I want my toddler smelling baby-fresh. *My* diaper, he thought in disgust. Well, it's only until I get in the door, the boy tried to console himself, and that will be the end of her game. Aunt Millie had adorned the front panel of an otherwise plain whitedisposable with a wide strip of Looney Tunes tape. Except for the large size, it looked just like a baby's. His first self-diapering was in the small bathroom on the bus. This handicap stall in the Men's Room gave him much more space, and he'd done it once before. He put on the disposable with little trouble. Scott cracked the door of the stall. No one around. He tried to creep slowly to the mirror, but the amplified crinkle of the diaper echoed against the tile walls and floor. Quickly he returned to the stall and refastened the diaper a little tighter. He wiggled. It was quieter, so he readjusted the diaper and fastened it as tight as possible. The crinkle of the plastic diaper was somewhat less, but no one would fail to notice its distinctive sound. The boy considered wearing his underwear over the diaper to quiet it more, but this was "big boy" clothes. He was certain his Aunt would disapprove. Besides, he thought, like my pants, they're wet! He looked at himself in the mirror. This was the first time he could remember ever seeing himself in a diaper. He hoped there wouldn't be too many mirrors at Aunt Millie's, this was an image he'd just as soon avoid. STEP 6 - PUT ON YOUR SHIRT The white flannel shirt was short sleeved, and was covered with bright Sesame Street characters. The tag on the back collar said, Made with loving care for LITTLE SKIPPY Scott glanced at the other clothing in the box. Each had a similar tag. Aunt Millie had custom made them just for him. He slipped the shirt over his head, and once again secreted a look in the mirror. The "Little Skippy" tag stuck out and he tucked it back in. The boy thought about lighting up another cigarette, but realized AuntMillie would not like "her toddler" smelling like smoke. STEP 7 - PACK YOUR DIAPER BAG At this point, you are wearing only your diaper, shirt, socks and shoes. Before you dress further, pull the following items from the box and put them in your Diaper Bag. DO NOT get further dressed first. You will be spending a lot of time dressed as you are now, so you should become familiar with the feel. He was now sitting in the Men's Room stall, wearing a disposable diaper, a flannel Sesame Street shirt, matching socks and Lion King shoes. He'd completed six of the steps his Aunt had detailed on the index cards. Once he was finished, he would complete his trip with a five hour bus ride to her house. He felt he was in a metamorphosis, not only changing his appearance, but "who" he was supposed to be. He continued following the cards. STEP 7 - PACK YOUR DIAPER BAG At this point, you are wearing onlyyour diaper, shirt, socks and shoes. Before you dress further, pull the following items from the box and put them in your Diaper Bag. DO NOT get further dressed first. You will be spending a lot of time dressed as you are now, so you should become familiar with the feel. The card detailed the items. Scott pulled his "diaper bag" from the box. It was a purple "Barney" backpack. Aunt Millie had left it empty so he would know exactly the items it would carry. Envelope Marked "Care and Feeding of Little Skippy" Baby Wipes BabyPowder Large Plastic Feeding Bib Terry "Drool" Bib Toddler Cup and Lid Baby Bottle with fruit drink A Snack of raisins and dried prunes Pacifier Two Disposable Diapers, in case someone feels you need a change NOTE: Do NOT change your own diaper. Scott was horrified at the possibility that someone might actually try to change his diaper. He calmed himself, however, with the knowledge that people are tooself-centered, and would be too shocked at the huge toddler to interfere. He held the sealed "Care and Feeding" envelope up to the light, apprehensive of what it might hold for the person who opened it. No good. He couldn't see anything. He considered opening it, but if he was right and no one took note of him, he'd have no excuse for it being opened. The boy dutifully packed each item in the Barney backpack. This was to be his "diaper bag" for the trip. He hoped with all his strength no one would be using any of the articlesinside. STEP 8 - PUT ON JUMPSUIT AND CAP You might be surprised to putthese items on last. But you see, like most clothes for diaper-wearing toddlers, the crotch of your jumpsuit has snaps. You'll find I've left the snaps undone. Pull your jumpsuit over your head, and over your diaper. Straighten the suspenders over your shoulders. Now snap the crotch together. Take care not to snag your diaper, we don't want any leaks. This is the order in which you can expect to be dressed this summer. The attached note will remain there. DO NOT remove it. It gives instructions to the bus driver to make certain my baby arrives here safely and on time. Be certain to wear the cap. It completes the outfit. The toddler-style jumpsuit was sleeveless and had short legs. Elastic suspenders connected the front and back. It was made of blue denim with contrasting dinosaurs scattered about. He looked for a zipper, some sign of which way to put it on. He held it up. One side bagged out more than the other, so he assumed this to be the back. The inside seam of the pants was open. Scott pulled the clothing over his head, glad to be wearing *anything* over his diaper. He found it difficult to fasten all of the snaps, but was finally successful. The boy donned the cap. Aunt Millie had made it of "Mickey Mouse U" material. He opened the stall door and turned sideways to look at himself in the mirror. The obvious bulge of the diaper and the snap tape in the crotch seam couldn't be missed. Neither could the note on his chest. He felt as though he were back in Kindergarten and the teacher was sending a note home to Little Skippy's Mommy. It was attached to the bib of his jumpsuit by a "ducky" diaper pin. STEP 9 - DOUBLE CHECK EVERYTHING Check again to be certainyou've followed the first eight steps. Make certain all of your big boy things are in the suitcase, all of your toddler things in your diaper bag. The only item remaining in the box is your Teddy. As this will not fit into your diaper bag, you'll need to carry it. Satisfy yourself that you are dressed correctly. This is your last chance to make certain you've followed my instructions. Arriving improperly attired will indicate you are unable to dress yourself. Scott looked himself over. No "big boy" stuff here, he lamented. He went through the suitcase and backpack to be certain there wasn't something he should take with him. Perhaps even a reason not to go through with this. He found none. After rereading "his" letter, the one Aunt Millie had required him to write, he remembered there was still the first diaper, the one she had included in the "Pull-Ups" envelope for him to try. This definitely wasn't "big boy" clothes... He read the note again... And the other cards... She hadn't said what to do with it, so the boy pulled it from his backpack and stuffed it in a side pocket of the "Barney" diaper bag. The boy pulled the large brown teddy bear from the box. It squeaked as he lifted it by the paw. It was old and worn, probably old enough to have been an eleven-year-old's original teddy. On the collar was a tag: Hi. My name is Teddy. I belong to Little Skippy. STEP 10 - LOCK THE SUITCASE. THROW AWAY THE BOX AND KEY Read the remaining cards and remember the steps you'll need to take. It is your responsibility to complete each one. Failure will show you have a poor memory and cannot handle responsibility. Throw away the box. Put the cards in the suitcase. Close and lock thesuitcase and throw away the key. Your mother sent me another and I don't want my toddler getting into things he shouldn't. The box was now empty. Everything from his previous life about to be locked up in the suitcase. And without the key he'd have nothing to wear should he change his mind. Scott was about to literally "throw away the key" to his chance of backing out of this. He needed a few more minutes. He read the leftover cards, carefully remembering the few details, his few remaining "responsibilities" as Aunt Millie put it. He wanted to get things right. STEP 11 - GET YOUR HAIR CUT Your mother tells me you look like a girl with that long hair of yours. You will have a decent boy's haircut when you arrive. STEP 12 - GO TO "CHECK IN" FOR YOUR BUS Check your suitcase.You won't need it until your return trip. STEP 13 - USE YOUR DIAPER BEFORE BOARDING I will check to be certain that you used your diaper well before arriving here. STEP 14 - BOARD THE BUS Make certain the driver reads the note you are wearing. We don't want our baby to miss his stop. He still wasn't quite ready to lock the suitcase. He pulled everything out of the stall, dropped the cards in the suitcase and snapped it shut. He put the large box next to a trash can. With trepidation he picked up his diaper bag and Teddy and baby-stepped to the mirror. The new toddler trembled before the image he found. Okay, Mike, let's take him in. The boy was handcuffed and sitting in theback of a Black & White. Caught for the fourth time shoplifting. Caught for the fourth time alone, when his buddies Tom and Sammy made their escape while the shopkeeper grabbed "the little kid". Dispatch, we have suspect in custody. Won't give us a name. About four foot ten, 100 pounds, long hair. Looks about eleven. "I'm SIXTEEN!" corrected the boy. He speaks! Uh, yeah, sorry about that Dispatch, the boy says he's sixteen. What's that? Wait one... Hey, kid, are you Scotty Byrd? The boy looked away, disgusted. Upset that they discovered his identity so quickly. He nodded. Looks like someone at HQ knows you, kid. Yeah, Dispatch, That's a positive ID. Roger: Directly to jail. Do not pass "GO". Put us in-transit to JDF. JDF was a familiar term to Scotty Byrd. He bragged that the Juvenile Detention Facility was "like a second home". But actually, the thought of going back terrified him. He'd been there only twice before, a total of six days, but it was enough. He didn't want to go back, and he didn't want to face his mother again. But he didn't control things right now, the "system" did. So, as the small boy with long hair and high voice was checked into JDF, he put on his best "rebel" facade and sauntered into the holding cell. This was his compensating mechanism, how he made up for his short comings... or at least for his short stature. This time he wanted to find a way out, to get back in control. At least a temporary escape from all the trouble society was causing him. Only two weeks earlier his mother had contacted her big sister. After nearly seventeen years Mildred was overjoyed to hear from her "baby sister". Becky Byrd told how her son was tormenting her life. How she needed to get him out of the house, at least for a while. Mildred offered to take him for the summer. "I'm certain the break will be good for both of you," she had written. Scotty refused to go at first, but this new stay at JDF was giving him second thoughts. At least at Aunt Millie's no one knows me. I can make a new reputation, get back in control, the boy told himself. In that hick town I should quickly be "King of the Hill". And that old woman won't be able to do a thing about it! From his cell, the boy wrote his newly-found Aunt a letter. Telling how he promised to be "a good boy" and all that other "garbage" he knew she'd want to hear. He needed to convince her, he needed to get away from here. He read his letter over. It was so ridiculous he laughed out loud. The other boys came to see what was so funny. "I'm writing my Aunt, and you won't believe what I've told her." He was trying to contain his laughter. "I'll say anything if she'll just send a bus ticket so I can get away from this place," he told them. He was already laughing again. "Let me read a few lines." He read in a whiny, "poor little me" voice. I'm afraid I'm out of control, Aunt Millie. ... If I could get a fresh start I think I could be a good boy. ... I'll be a good boy, I promise. ... Please help me, my only other option is to run away so I don't cause my Mom any more trouble. The entire group was in an uproar. The boy quieted them so he could read the close. Please Aunt Millie, I know I've been bad, but I want another chance. You're my only hope! If you have any room in your heart for me, you'll do this. Your obedient nephew, Scotty. It took a minute for the group to settle. "So, are you really going to be a `good boy'?" one of them asked, knowing the answer. "Yeah, for about 10 seconds. Long enough to drop my bags and walk out the door!" An announcement on the bus station PA brought him back to reality. Scott wiped his eyes and checked himself once more in the restroom mirror. I'm only going to use this as a way to get in the door, he said to convince himself. He tried to adjust his clothing to make himself look a little more "grown-up". The "Made with tender loving care" label on his shirt collar kept sticking out. He tucked it in several times, but it just came right back out. It was no use, and he started to cry. The reflection was not that of a sixteen year old "rebel", but of anover-grown two-year-old. With his smooth skin, high voice and short stature, this "late bloomer" knew he could easily be taken for the eleven year old toddler his Aunt wanted. He opened the suitcase. He wanted a cigarette badly, but closed the suitcase again. Aunt Millie said she wanted a "baby fresh" boy, Scott reminded himself. He sniffed the air. There was the distinctive smell of the baby powder he had used while diapering himself. He looked again. The image in the mirror was dressed in a denim jumpsuit. The material's blue color contrasted with a colorful pattern of dinosaurs. A large padded dinosaur was quilted to the front, below that emblazoned in block letters: LITTLE SKIPPY. Okay, he thought, maybe they *are* only inch tall. But Scott so despised his old baby name. It had taken years for his mother and her friends to stop using it. For this summer, at least, he must once again go by that name. Only until I get in the door, he told himself again, but it didn't ring with the confidence he once had. Rainbow colored elastic straps went over his shoulders and fastened in back. His short-sleeve shirt was white flannel with a bright pattern of Sesame Street characters. On his shoes was the image of baby "Simba" from the Lion King, and his Sesame Street ankle socks matched his shirt. Very little of his tanless legs were covered by the above-the-knee length of his jumpsuit. He turned and looked again at his crotch. The bulk of the diaper caused it to bulge out, and it was all too obvious to anyone that the entire inside seam could be unsnapped for changing. Aunt Millie had gone all- out to create this "costume". Scott was certain there were many equally colorful ones awaiting him. The only remainder of his former self was the long hair which flowed from under the "Mickey Mouse U" cap--and the hair would soon be cut just as his Aunt required. His diaper crinkled as he moved to the sink. He washed his face to remove the tear tracks. That tormenting "Pull-Ups" tune returned to Scott's head. Only now one word had changed: "Mommy Wow! I'm a Big *Baby* now!" He removed his Mickey Mouse U cap and decided to keep it in the diaper bag until closer to Aunt Millie's. It did "complete the outfit" just as his Aunt said, but it wasn't the image he was looking for. The boy held up his Teddy to the mirror. Aunt Millie had included itknowing it was too large to hide in the diaper bag. "Smile, Teddy," he said in a loud baby voice, "We going on bus ride!" He squeezed its paw and the bear squeaked, and the boy washed his face once more. For such a busy bus station, he was surprised that no one had come in during his transition. Scott took a deep breath and mentally reviewed Aunt Millie's cards oncemore. If he was going through with this, he didn't want a stupid mistake to make things even worse. "Could it get worse?" he asked himself. He was certain it could. He made sure he was dressed correctly, that his "big boy" clothes and backpack were in the suitcase and that the right stuff was in his "Barney" backpack--his "diaper bag", as he was to call it. Among other things, he would carry two bibs, a toddler cup, bottle, pacifier, baby wipes, baby powder and two diapers. Well, actually *three* diapers, he thought, remembering the one stuffed in a side pocket. On his jumpsuit's front was a diaper pin holding instructions for the bus driver. Scott looked at it in the mirror again. Maybe I can take it off until we pullinto her station, he thought to himself. He examined the pin. Aunt Millie hadwarned him not to take it off. Scott realized the it had been sealed with glue. Even if he could get it off, he'd never get it back on again, and she'd know. He was resigned to the inevitable. He picked up his suitcase, made certain it was locked and threw away the key as Aunt Millie had instructed. Scott supposed she didn't want any prying eyes going through his "big boy" stuff, or her instructions. Scott gave himself a last glance in the mirror. Getting a haircut was the next order of business, and the boy realized its style might be his last significant decision of the summer. "A decent boy's haircut," was Aunt Millie's only requirement. As he turned for the door, Scott was met by a man leading his toddler in for a change. They didn't even acknowledge him. I wonder who'll be leading *me* around? he asked himself. Having entered the restroom as "Scotty", the sixteen-year-old, the boy would now leave as eleven-year-old "Little Skippy", a boy with the mind of a two-year-old. With his head lowered, he walked out of the privacy and security of the Men's Room. He was wearing his "Barney" diaper bag like a backpack and carrying his locked suitcase and teddy bear. His Lion King shoes squeaked on the bus station floor, mixing with the crinkle of his diaper. He could feel a cool breeze through the snapped leg seams of his short- pant jumpsuit. Scott looked up. In front of him was that obnoxious twelve-year-old. The boy who had teased him about wetting his pants on the bus. The one Scott wanted to "beat the stuffing out of". He raised a fist as a threatening gesture, and... SQUEAK. "Hey kid, what are you going to do?" asked the boy, "Hit me with your teddy?" In his panic, Scott had forgotten that inside his raised fist was the squeaking paw of his teddy bear. Once again he was near tears. "Hey, you're that eleven year old pants wetter!" the boy said. The big toddler was about to protest, "I'm sixteen!" but didn't. "So did baby take off those pee-pee pants and put on some nice clean toddler clothes?" the boy taunted as he moved closer. "You smell like a baby, too. You're probably even wearing a diaper!" The reaction confirmed it. "You are! You're wearing a diaper!" He laughed and shouted and drew the attention of others in the station. He spun the giant toddler around. "And whatcha got in the Barney bag? A few clean diapers I'll bet." Scott was in tears. All of the "tough guy" facade was gone, packed away in the suitcase with his leather jacket and other "big boy" clothes. "Last Call. Last Call," a woman's voice announced over the station speakers, "Bus 3-1-4 now departing gate 13." The boy looked to gate 13. "Don't cry, baby," he said in a mocking tone. "I'm sorry, but that's my bus." The boy turned and ran laughing toward his gate, "I was hoping I could baby-sit you for a while, maybe give you a nice warm bottle!" After regaining his composure, Scott wiped his face on Teddy. I could really use a cigarette right now, he cried to himself. He was already very nervous and a bit tired, and the lack of a "nicotine fix" wasn't helping. The time! With a panic Scott checked his watch. He saw only a bare wrist. Oh, yeah, babies don't wear watches, he thought grimly. The wall clock said 11:04. He had spent more than an hour in the Men'sRoom, but still had 56 minutes to wait for his bus. The line was short, so he decided to check in first, then get his haircut. Then find a place to hide, he told himself. He picked up his suitcase and entered the check-in line. What do I say when I get to the front? he asked, clutching his ExcursionTicket. Do I just point to the note and grin? "Oh, say there young man?" Scott was startled by a tap on the shoulder. He spun toward the elderly woman behind him, nearly knocking her over with his Teddy. His shocked stare and dirty face caused her to look him over more carefully. "Oh dear, I was going to ask you to help me, but it looks like you could use my help even more," she said with a gentle smile. She pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped the boy's nose. "Let's see, your name is..." she adjusted her glasses as she peered closely at the note, "...Little Skippy." Once again the giant toddler cringed at being called by the name he so despised. My name is Scotty! he shouted within. He refused to even *think* of himself by that baby name. "Well, Little Skippy..." She paused again to finish reading. "Well, LittleSkippy," she repeated, "it says here you're taking bus 936 to Florence Street Station, to your Auntie Millie's house. Oh, what fun! It looks like we'll be traveling together; we're on the same bus, Little Skippy, though I'll get off before you. " Scott said nothing. The woman surveyed the boy's face. "Aw, you've been crying. Do you miss your Momma?" Her "baby talk" moved him to tears once again. His chest began heaving and his eyes grew wet. "Yes, I'm sure that's it." She wiped his face once again and held him close. "Well, you'll be with your Auntie very soon, Little Skippy, and you'll spend a whole fun summer with her." Her comment didn't seem to be the encouragement she had hoped. "Well, why don't you just call me `Grandma'? All the kids do. Kinda that age, you know," and she gave the boy a "Grandma" smile. She looked at him again. "Little Skippy, can you say `Hi' to Grandma?" Scott was feeling hot. Very hot. He was sure he was turning bright red and wanted to run and hide. But before he got a chance, the woman put both hands on his shoulders and turned him around. "We're next, Little Skippy," she said, leading him to the counter by the hand. "May I help you ma'am?" the bus agent asked with a distinctive southern drawl. He examined the large toddler before him, but said nothing. "Well, first we need to get Little Skippy set. Here's his ticket." She wrestled the crinkled document from the boy's tight grasp and handed it over. "He's going to his Auntie's, the Florence Street Station." He looked again at the boy. "This is some kinda joke. Right?" the agentresponded. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't understand what you mean. As I said, he's going to Florence Street Station, bus 936." The agent looked inquisitively at the child and then the woman. "Little Skippy doesn't talk much," she told him in a whisper, "He's a... well, a... a `special' child... you know," she said with a wink. The agent finally understood and nodded, and "Grandma" stepped back. "He'll be traveling with me, but I get off before he does. There's a note here..." She tried to remove it but the pin wouldn't budge. "Well, he'll be all set, the driver just needs to make sure he gets off at the right place. You see, I can't go all the way with him." She leaned over the counter. "He's a good little boy, as you can see, and he won't be any problem at all." She looked back at the boy, "Will you, Little Skippy?" Scott wasdumbfounded. He had expected everyone to leave him alone. He *knew* they'd all be "too self-centered and a too shocked" to bother with an over-sized baby like him. But this woman had "adopted" him on the spot. He stared blankly at the agent. With a hand on his chin, she turned his face toward her. "You *will* be a good boy for Grandma, won't you Little Skippy?" she prompted. The boy nodded and the woman gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Now, that's a good boy." She turned and smiled at the agent. The agent seemed to believe she *was* Scott's grandmother and processed his ticket and then hers; their suitcases were checked to their final destinations. Before Scott knew it, he was once again being led by the hand. This time toward the bus platform for north-bound bus #936. As they passed the Barber Shop, the diaper-clad lad knew he had better say something about needing a haircut, but remained silent as the woman pulled him along. There were still 35 minutes before the bus left, so she took the boy to the snack bar and ordered a coffee and an ice cream cone. "Will you be a dear and bring it over to the table?" she asked the clerk. "As you can see, I have my hands full." The clerk nodded and the woman paid her bill and led Scott to a table. Before seating the boy, she pulled the diaper bag from his shoulders. "Let's see, Little Skippy," she unzipped the diaper bag, "Your Mommy'snote says..." Scott lifted the note to look at it. Mommy's note? Scott questioned. It's from Aunt Millie. "...there'd be a bib. We want to keep that cute outfit clean for Auntie Millie, don't we?" Of course, he understood, if I'm going *to* Auntie Millie's, the note must be *from* Mommy. "Oh, here it is, and such a darling one, too, with a teddy bear holding balloons! She's thought of everything." She certainly has, Scott thought glumly. "Grandma" admired the bib before snapping it around Scott's neck. "Do you like this one, Little Skippy?" Scott squirmed with theembarrassment of it all, but he could hardly get angry with her. This woman was so gentle, caring and giving. He just looked at her. Still he was nervous enough that his hands were shaking as he ate the ice cream. As he finished the cone, the boy looked around the dining room. He was surprised how few people seemed to even take note of him. As a little girl in diapers went by, she waved "Hi" to him. "Kindred spirit," he supposed. "Healthy eater you have there," offered the man at the next table. "Really gobbled up that ice cream." He let out a deep belly laugh, "All except what he left on his face, that is!" The man checked himself. "Oh, I hope I didn't embarrass the boy," he said apologetically. "I think he knows it's okay for a little boy to make a mess when he feedshimself," "Grandma" answered. The "little boy", who hadn't noticed the mess, tried his hardest not to let it shake him. In his mind he tried reciting, I'm in control... I'm in control... That didn't seem to help, so he tried a different tact, I'm two! I don't care... I'm two! I don't care... I'm not embarrassed. Babies do this... I'm two! I don't care... His nervousness had helped him play the part of a baby, even without trying. "All done, child?" she asked. "Let Grandma wipe off your hands and face." She licked the corner of a napkin and used it to wipe him down. "Good thing you had your bib on." Scott looked as his hands and bib. Sure enough, he'd made quite a mess. And from the looks of the napkin, his face had been a mess, too. "Now give Grandma one of those `happy boy' smiles." No reaction."Please?" She contorted her face so much when she said "please", that the boy couldn't contain his laugh. "Grandma" smiled, as did the man at the next table. "You're a darling," she said as she kissed him on the forehead. "Oh, dear, where did all the time go? Let's get packed up." She wiped off the bib best she could, unsnapped it from around the boy's neck and carefully placed it back in his diaper bag. "Oh, isn't this darling?" she asked as she pulled out the "Mickey Mouse U" cap. "Let's see how this looks on you... Oh, yes! It really completes the outfit. It makes you look like a *big* boy." She guided Scott out of the seat and put the "diaper bag" backpack on his shoulders. She handed him his Teddy, grabbed her purse, and taking the boy's hand, led him to the #936 bus. Because they were both "special needs" passengers, an elderly woman and an obviously handicapped boy, they were first to board the bus. The woman was leading the diaper-clad youth by the hand. She was carrying her purse, and he his Teddy. The "Barney" backpack he wore carried his diaper-change paraphernalia. "Grandma" chose the two front seats, just behind the driver. She wanted to be certain this strange child could be watched once she left, and these were the only ones where she could buckle him in. She removed Scott's diaper bag from his back and helped him into thewindow seat. Then she fastened his seat belt and handed him his Teddy. She opened his diaper bag, looking over its contents. Slowly she named each one as she showed them to the boy. "Let's see what we have here Little Skippy," she said as the other passengers walked past. "Here's your bib. Can you say `bib' for Grandma?" She paused, hoping for a response, not even knowing if this "special" child could speak. Then she continued reciting the contents, "And baby wipes... Here's your cup and bottle... And *two* diapers." She slapped her leg, causing the boy to jump. "Oh, dear, I *must* be getting old. I haven't even checked to see if you need a change." Scott winced and the boarding passengers looked inquisitively as they passed. "Here's your Suckie," she continued, showing him the pacifier. It had a short cord and clip attached. "Oh, and here's a snack to eat. I hope that ice cream didn't spoil your appetite." As she was zipping up the bag, "What's this? `Care and Feeding of Little Skippy'." She turned the envelope over. "I guess more instructions from your Mommy. I can tell she really loves you and is making certain everything goes well on your little bus trip." She opened the letter, and read it out loud to the boy. To whom it may concern, Thank you so much for watching after my baby. Since you've found this note, obviously you're a very caring person and can see the special needs of this eleven year old boy. Please don't feel under obligation, but should you wish, please give Little Skippy his snack once his bus ride starts. He has a feeding bib to keep his clothes clean. He can use the toddler cup, but his bottle helps him relax. When he takes a nap, he sleeps more soundly with his pacifier, and you may find he needs the drool bib. Little Skippy may use his diaper during the trip. He should be okay and his Auntie can change him on arrival. However, should you find it needful for him to be changed, your actions will be greatly appreciated. He is carrying everything he needs, including a couple of fresh diapers. Do not worry, the boy isn't modest. Though he may be nervous because of the strangers around, in his mind he is only two and is not self-conscience. "So, Little Skippy," "Grandma" said, "You're eleven years old! My what a*big boy* you are." The "big boy" didn't respond, or even think to object, "I'm sixteen!" He was too busy assimilating what he had just heard. "Grandma" now had instructions to put a bib on him, bottle feed him, and give him a pacifier when he slept. The note Aunt Millie supplied said he "isn't modest," and that he wouldhave no problem getting his diaper changed. Oh yes I will! Scott thought. There's no way anyone is going to do that to me! He looked at the woman, You're obviously a very nice lady, he thought, but sorry, if you try to go through with this... The note closed with another thanks and the name and phone number of his "Mommy" and "Auntie". He listened intently as the woman read the phone numbers. That's Mom's number! The boy was horrified to consider the possibility that someone might call his "Mommy" with a question about his care. His Mom didn't know what his Aunt was making him do, and he did *not* want her to find out. Scott figured the best way to prevent this was to play his so part well as to ensure there were no questions which needed answering. And if this included a diaper change? The bus began to move. "Grandma" set his Teddy on the floor, put the bib on the boy and gave him his snack. While he was eating, the woman reached over and unsnapped the crotch of his pants. Scott was so startled that only the seat belt kept him from hitting the ceiling. "It's okay, baby. I'm just seeing if you need a change," she said to comfort him. Scott tried to squirm away, I'm not a baby, please don't do this! his mind pled. "Come on, little one, I need to check. I guess I should have back at the bus station, but I just didn't think about it." Then she resorted to the ultimate threat for any toddler, "You don't want any bad reports to Mommy, do you?" Scott submitted. He was *very* glad he hadn't wet yet, although he needed to badly. "Well, looks like Little Skippy is all dry." It seemed she was announcing it to the world. She resnapped his crotch, patted him on the front of his diaper and settled back. Once he had finished his snack, "Grandma" used a baby wipe to clean his hands and face. Scott was dazed by the powerful baby-clean perfume as she wiped his nose. "Hi. My name's Scotty," came a little voice from the aisle. "He can use my coloring book if he wants." Why can't they call me "Scotty" instead of "Little Skippy"? the boy complained. He looked past "Grandma" to see the boy holding out his coloring book and box of crayons. The boy with the wet pants! came the realization. The big toddler wanted to hide. "Such a generous boy you are, and polite, too," "Grandma" responded. "Yes, I think Little Skippy would enjoy coloring." She accepted the proffered items and thanked the boy. She opened the coloring book to a blank page, selected two crayons andplaced them in Scott's lap. He was glad to have something to occupy his brain. He was careful, however, not to draw too well. He made certain he never stayed in the lines, nor chose the best color for an object (from the two colors "Grandma" gave him). His scribbles went completely outside the picture and off the page. The "diaper check" reminded Scott of another requirement from his Aunt: Use the diaper before getting on the bus. I'm sure glad I didn't, he thought. My new "Grandma" would have discovered it and I'm certain she would have tried to change me. He sighed. That was a close one! But he still needed to follow her instructions. Well, actually, he was already late, but he figured Aunt Millie wouldn't beable to tell a five- hour old diaper from one only four-and-a-half hours old. He tried to keep himself occupied with the coloring as he let the trickle begin. He kept the flow slow since he wasn't sure how much or how fast his diaper could absorb the wetness. He looked out the window to keep "Grandma" from seeing any signs in his face. The woman was watching him intently. "Little Skippy? Something wrong?" she asked as she reached again for the snaps. "Grandma" reached to the snaps in the crotch of Scott's jumpsuit. This woman who "adopted" him at the bus station a few hours ago had checked his diaper only moments before and it was dry. But now he *was* wet! The boy screamed inside, Please! Please don't check my diaper! Please don't change me! Please don't change me *on the bus*! She refastened a snap she had missed earlier, patted Scott on the head and leaned back in her seat. Scott began to breath again as she used a handkerchief to wipe someremaining food from his chin. This over-grown toddler and the old woman had been sitting together for over an hour now. Every few minutes, she would say a few kind words to him, occasionally trying to elicit a response, but he still hadn't said a word. In fact, he hadn't spoken since he made the "transition" his Aunt Millie had required. He was dozing as he colored in the book little "Scotty" had lent him. Then Scott noticed she was watching him again. "Let Grandma get you a little more comfortable, child," she said. She pressed the button which allowed his seat to recline. "There we go." She reached into the diaper bag and pulled out the bottle. She smoothed Scott's long hair, gently placed the bottle in his mouth and moved his right hand up to hold it. Scott just looked into her soothing brown eyes. He was finding himself drawn to this caring woman. He had met her only hours ago, and yet he felt closer to her than anyone ever before. She did not know him as the "sixteen year old juvenile delinquent with an attitude". To her he was a "special" child with the functioning of a two-year-old. To her he was a "good little boy who doesn't talk much." Doesn't talk much? Scott thought. This woman has never heard me make a sound. She doesn't even know if I *can* talk. He relaxed as he sucked on the bottle. "Central... Central Station... Five minutes..." the bus driver announced over the PA. The boy was startled awake. Without realizing it, he had fallen asleep. His first real sound sleep in a long time. He spit out the pacifier "Grandma" had apparently put in his mouth whilesleeping and shuttered to think people had seen him with it. Scott bolted up in his seat and stiffened. The woman was unfastening the snaps in the crotch of his jumpsuit and he looked with horror at his now-visible diaper. "Oh, did that scary sound wake you up and frighten you?" she asked. "I was just checking, and," she patted the diaper, "it looks like you need a change, baby." Scott looked at her face, trying hard not to reveal the terror he felt within. Now she's going to want to change me! He looked around. Maybe some way to escape? But she had him cornered in the front window seat on a moving bus. No! Please! She fastened his pants and apologized, "I'm sorry, honey, but we don't have time now." Scott relaxed in his seat. "My stop is coming up in a few minutes, LittleSkippy, so I guess you'll need to wait for your Auntie to change you." She pulled out her hanky again and wiped the drool off his chin. Then she leaned over and spoke to the driver. He nodded. The bus came to a stop and the doors opened. Passengers were loading and unloading. The driver was outside helping with the checked luggage. After a few minutes, he came back in. "Sorry, ma'am, but you'll need to get off now," the driver informed the boy's baby-sitter. "And don't worry about your grandson, as luck would have it, we just loaded a whole group of `special' kids heading to camp. This young lady has agreed to watch after the boy." Scott looked up and saw a woman in the aisle. "Grandma" handed her the "Care and Feeding" instructions and they chatted quietly for a moment. He couldn't hear much, catching only a few words: "... sorry ... sleeping ... wet ... Thank you." Oh, certainly she couldn't have... Wouldn't have... Couldn't be telling her *that*! Scott grimaced. "Grandma" reached over and ripped apart the seam of his pants to show the woman his wet diaper. The woman nodded knowingly. "Grandma" unfastened her seat belt and reached for her purse. "Say `bye-bye' to Grandma," the new woman instructed. Scott hugged his teddy bear. He realized he still hadn't said a single word to his new "Grandma". He didn't know anything about her, not even her name, and he'd probably never see her again. He sat with his mouth open, but nothing came out. "That's okay," "Grandma" said to the woman. "Little Skippy doesn't talkmuch. A very quite boy, you know." Then to him, "Be a good boy." And she gave him a kiss on the forehead. Scott noticed a tear sliding down her cheek and felt he was ready to cry himself. Just as she was climbing out the door, he hollered, "Bye-bye, Grandma!" The old woman turned around and smiled. The boy began to sob. The driver closed the doors and the bus started to roll again.