I was mortified when my folks asked Dylan to babysit while they went shopping. It’s bad enough that my current situation required me to have a babysitter: why did it have to be one of the most attractive girls in school?
After my parents left, Dylan and I had decided that I really didn’t need supervision; so I was on the couch watching TV while Dylan was in the kitchen doing her own thing. A rumble from my stomach told me it was lunchtime, and the bowl of chips sitting next to me wouldn’t cut it.
I hopped off the couch and toddled into the kitchen, where Dylan greeted me with an amused look on her face, “Looks like somebody’s not completely used to her body.”
“Cut me some slack, okay? I’ve spent most of my life in a wheelchair,” I responded while trying in vain to reach the fridge handle. Finally, after realizing I wasn’t tall enough, I turned to Dylan and said, “Could you make me a sandwich? I’m hungry.”
I could see the annoyance in Dylan’s face as she got up from her chair. Her expression changed after she took a deep breath and said, “I was this close to brushing you off; until I remembered you’re not tall enough to make your own sandwich.” Then, lifting me onto the counter, she said, “What kind of sandwich would you like?”
“I think there’s an unopened package of turkey in the crisper drawer.”
Dylan spent the next few moments gathering everything she’d need to make us both sandwiches. I watched her struggle with a bottle of mustard for a few seconds before silently taking it from her. I started shaking it profusely, but nothing would come out, at least not until I pointed it at my face. The instant I did that, the bottle turned into Old Faithful and left my face and outfit covered in mustard.
Dylan couldn’t hold in her laughter as she stared at me, “Looks like lunch is off the table for now,” she said while taking me off the counter. “Come on; let’s give you a bath to get rid of all this mess.”
*********************
When Dylan said it, the last thing I wanted was a bath; now that I was in the water, I was having a blast. I was alone in the tub for the moment while Dylan brought my soiled clothes downstairs to the washing machine. I splashed around in the water to keep myself occupied; otherwise, I probably would have been examining my new anatomy.
Dylan returned a few minutes later with a defeated look on her face, “Bad news: all we’ve got in your size is a box of diapers.”
I grumbled to myself before acknowledging Dylan, “Yeah, those diapers were leftover from when my bedwetting 6-year-old cousin spent the weekend. I can’t help feeling that the fates are conspiring to humiliate me every chance they get.”
“You’re looking at this all wrong, Clay. Sure, you’re a 5-year-old girl; but you’re free of that wheelchair. I’m sure you’ll see this as a blessing given enough time.”
“That’s easy for you to say; everything worked out great for you,” I said while climbing out of the tub. “Your life is far better now than it used to be. You’re easily one of the most attractive girls in school. I’m sure you’ve got no shortage of guys interested in dating you.”
Dylan sighed as she leaned against the bathroom counter, “I probably could get any guy I wanted; if I weren’t so insecure. But, instead, I start freaking out and obsess over what might happen if they ever found out the truth about me.” Then, looking down at me, she said, “That’s why I came by earlier; I was hoping you’d be this cute guy who knew what I’d been through.”
“Wait a minute, that’s why you came over?” I said as I dried myself off with a towel. “You were hoping that I’d be boyfriend material?”
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds selfish. And now, you’re five, and I still don’t have a guy.” Dylan said with a sigh before a smile suddenly appeared on her face. “Wait a minute; didn’t your little friend Josie get the injection meant for you? What happened to her?”
There was a moment where I actually considered telling Dylan how Josie had turned out; until I realized why Dylan was so interested, “I know what you’re thinking. But stop it; she’s still a five-year-old girl in her head.”
Crouching in front of me, Dylan said, “Cut me some slack, huh? I’m a teenage girl, and I’m horny. Now come on; what does she look like?”
“I’m not comfortable describing how a guy’s body looks, but she turned out pretty well. She takes after her Dad; she’s probably just under 6ft tall and pretty muscular.” Looking at Dylan as she helped me into the diaper, I said, “Seriously, Dylan, you have to promise that you won’t try anything with her. Her situation is already complicated enough.”
The front door suddenly opened as my parents walked inside carrying several bags. Something was definitely wrong; Dad wouldn’t even look at me as he placed several bags on the floor. Meanwhile, Mom simply glared at me from the landing. Then, before I could say anything, Mom said, “Tell me you didn’t teach a 5-year-old girl how to masturbate?”
The house became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop; Mom was furious, and Dylan simply stared at me. “What?”
“I just got off the phone with Josie’s mother; apparently, she walked into Josie’s bedroom earlier and discovered Josie playing with herself. So now I’ll ask you again; did you teach her to do that?”
I didn’t say anything for a solid minute while I figured everything out. “No, I never taught Josie how to masturbate. This whole thing probably started because of what happened at Radeon; she wasn’t behaving appropriately, and I suggested that she wait until she was alone. I swear I never taught her how to do anything.”
I could see that Mom was calming down a little, but she was still visibly frustrated, “You were right to tell her that. However, the next time, be sure to let her parents know that she has a new favorite toy.”
Starting to blush, I said, “Perhaps I should go talk to Josie; to guide her in the right direction.”
“Absolutely not! That’s a conversation for her father, not a 5-year-old. We don’t need Child Protective Services accusing us of letting someone molest you.”
I opened my mouth to speak, only to close it again when I realized Mom was right. Then, looking down at the floor, I said, “Sorry; I didn’t mean to cause anybody any trouble.”
“It’s okay, Clay; this whole situation will require everyone to make some adjustments.” Then, spotting my diaper, Mom said, “Perhaps you’d like to explain why you’re wearing a diaper?”
I was still too embarrassed by the earlier conversation to respond, so Dylan fielded that question, “It’s a long story involving a stubborn bottle of mustard. I couldn’t open it; Clay managed to open it but got mustard everywhere. The diapers were the only thing I could find for her to wear.” Then, starting down the stairs, Dylan said, “Don’t worry about the mess in the kitchen; I’ll clean that before I leave.”
I started walking down the stairs, stopping every couple of steps to adjust the diaper. “Mind if I have a look at the purchases? I’d rather not walk around wearing nothing but a diaper all day.”
“Of course, sweetie,” Mom said, leading me upstairs.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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