"Clumsy boy. Just like a baby." Jimmy's mother had decided that the next time Jimmy did not behave in a grown-up fashion, in other words, a fashion becoming of a twelve year old, she was going to put him back into diapers. Diaper punishment she called it. "Come over here, Jimmy." As Jimmy walked into the lounge, his mother started preparing the diaper with baby powder. "Pull down your trousers and underwear and lie down." "But Mum," protested the blonde boy. "I just dropped a fork." "And dirtied my clean floor," corrected Mum. "Now, down with them." Jimmy listened. "Lie down, you bad boy!" Jimmy listened. Minutes later, a diapered Jimmy was sitting on the floor. He attempted to scramble up, but Mum did not like that. "Where do you think you're going?" she asked as she caught him and brought him to a sitting position in front of her. She started to undo the buttons on her top and Jimmy fought her, kicking and screaming. Whack! On his behind. Jimmy cried. "Don't worry, little boy. Mummy will make it better." Jimmy's Mom turned his head so that his mouth was in front of her breast. "Drink." Jimmy pulled away. Whack! Jimmy cried. Jimmy drank: 2.45 AM: Jimmy woke up, needing to pee badly 2.46 AM: Jimmy remembered, after trying to move, that he was in a crib 2.47 AM: Jimmy cried softly 2.51 AM: Jimmy considers screaming, but fears getting whacked again 2.55 AM: "Mum!" 2.57 AM: (louder) "Mum!" 2.59 AM: (even louder) "Mum!" 2.59 AM: a light flicked on at the end of the passage 3.00 AM: Mum walked into the room 3.00 AM: "Mum, I need to go to the toilet." 3.00 AM: Mum took Jimmy out of the crib. 3.00 AM: Whack! 3.01 AM: Jimmy wet his diaper. 3.02 AM: Mum pulled her breast free of her pyjama top. Jimmy drank. 3.05 AM: Mum stroked Jimmy's hair until he went to sleep. 6.45 AM: Jimmy woke up, wet. Jimmy was forced to go to school that day wearing nothing but a diaper. People looked at him and then turned away to talk among themselves. Jimmy cried. Some of the boys teased him. "Is the baby all right? Do you want a pacifier?" Just then, Mrs. Haltstead, the Headmistress, came out into the playground. "Jimmy, please come with me. I need to talk to you about something." Once Jimmy and Mrs. Haltstead were in her office, the door was closed and Mrs. Haltstead offered Jimmy a seat on the other side of her desk. "Your mother telephoned me and told me what happened last night. She said she was very worried about his ability to cope with big school. "Jimmy, we are sending you back to preschool," he was told. "But," Jimmy protested. "I am getting A's and B's. Why must I go back to preschool?" "Jimmy, sometimes people need to learn the basics again. Sometimes we need to do things for our own good. Besides, no-one here is going to be able to change your diapers." Jimmy was shocked. She knew! He was going to kill his mother! "Jimmy. The bus from the preschool will pick you up in five minutes." The three and four year olds looked up when Jimmy came through the door. Jimmy felt awkward as he went to sit down next to them. A voice sounded. "No, Jimmy. You're coming here." Jimmy looked. There was a large playpen with two and three year olds in it. They were playing with building blocks and teddy bears. Mr. Thelwick picked Jimmy up and put him in the playpen. Jimmy didn't know what to do. All the other small children in the playpen were minding their own business. Jimmy felt an urge. "Excuse me," he said politely. "I need to poo. Can I go to the toilet?" "There are no toilets here. You have a diaper. Use it." The voice almost seemed vicious. Jimmy felt so threatened he felt he had to obey. But he had never... He lay down on his stomach and started playing with a bear. Nature worked and he felt a bulge start forming behind him. Hey! This felt kind of cool! He rolled over onto his back and the bulge squished left and right, as well as down between his legs. Jimmy started to urinate. His widdler was pointing towards his chest. He felt the pee shoot up and then spray down his left and right legs. Jimmy was exhausted. Jimmy slept. Jimmy's mom brought him home at three o'clock, just in time for "Pumpkin Patch". Jimmy was forced to watch it, even though he hated it. The routine went on for a week. By the weekend, Jimmy was speechless. Not that he couldn't speak. He had just seemed to have forgotten how to. In its place, murmurs and gurgles, and crying. "You're a good big baby boy," said his mom. "Wet diaper for mommy." She stroked his hair. She changed his diaper. Jimmy got breastfed and went to sleep.