Done Adulting Vol. 1 Ch. 98

“Hello?” Jamie had been awake for ten minutes. He waited until he’d used his diaper before calling out. It was easier to go and felt different somehow. He was afraid he might be getting another stomach bug. Rebecca came in.

“Hey, Jamie Bear,” she said. Wow, Jamie thought, that nickname caught on quickly. “How was your nap?”

“Good.”

“You’re getting better at it.”

“What?”

“Napping. You used to wake up all groggy and with a headache.”

“Yeah.” She lowered the crib rail and picked Jamie up, placing him on the changing table and, for some reason, buckling the strap; she never did that anymore. She unsnapped the legs of his sleeper. As she did, Jamie pondered how on earth these were more convenient than a pair of pants. It sure seemed like more work to him to snap them open, pull his legs out, change his diaper, put them back on and snap them closed. Either way, she had to take his pants basically if not all the way off and put them back on again.

“O my,” Becky said. “I didn’t think I’d find that in there.”

“What?”

“You have a dirty bottom.”

“And?”

“And usually I can smell your undies as soon as I come in the room, but I guess I’ll have to start checking now. Breastmilk doesn’t make stinkies as stinky,” she said with a smile on her face.

“Huh?” He hadn’t had any breastmilk since Jane left a bottle behind a week ago.

“Last night you nursed milk from me. You were mostly asleep. Instead of your bottle, you nursed from me.” Becky’s smile threatened to take over her entire face. Jamie blushed. The entire notion of drinking while he was asleep was still unusual, and he felt a little babyish having nursed while without waking, but he knew he’d been doing it for months now from a bottle.

“Um, did I like it?”

“You didn’t complain,” she chuckled.

“Wow.”

“So tonight, instead of your bedtime bottle …” Jamie smiled back at Rebecca. “Does that sound good?”

“Yes, Mommy.” He smiled, too, a warm, fuzzy feeling as he thought about nursing from his mommy, being so close to her. She snapped his sleeper closed and picked him up. “You wanna play while I go make dinner?”

“Mhmm. Where’s Amanda?”

“She’s upstairs resting.” Without me, Jamie thought. Why would she do such a thing?

Jamie followed her out to the living room. He grabbed the TV remote off the couch and flipped until he found something. He didn’t know much about their TV yet. Theirs wasn’t a TV household, not much. He picked an afternoon talk show and listened to some cheerful woman telling people to be nice. Rebecca brought him a glass of water. He grew tired of the screaming crowd of women on TV losing their shit when they reached under their chairs and found out they were being given a food processor.

Jamie had left his most recent coloring book in the playpen. He walked over to it and looked at the book through the mesh. Reaching up, he grabbed the rim of the playpen and tried to tip it toward him. He quickly realized it was too heavy for him and was as likely to fall over and hurt him. Instead, he lifted himself up and teetered on the edge, figuring out he wasn’t as acrobatic as he thought he was but being too committed to this strategy to do much about it now.

The rim served as a fulcrum against his hips. Amanda came around the corner in time to see his feet disappear over the edge as he not-quite-somersaulted into the pen with an “oomph” as he landed. Amanda shook her head when she didn’t hear any sound indicating an injury. She walked over and saw Jamie looking a bit stunned.

“Do we need to talk about what you could have done differently,” she asked. His head spun around. He smiled guiltily.

“I wanted my coloring book.”

“Mhmm. You could have just asked Mom.”

“Um …”

“Well, now you got your book.” He held up his arms. “Nuh uh. I think you can chill in there until dinner time. Our secret, but fair warning: Mom will put a top on that thing, and your crib, if she catches you doing that.”

Jamie didn’t feel very bad about what he’d done. He started coloring.

“Hey, Amanda,” Becky said as she came in wiping her hands on a dish rag. “Where’s Jamie?”

“In his play pen,” Amanda answered as Jamie simultaneously stuck his hand above the top of the pen and announced, “Right here.”

“Why?”

“He did something very naughty.”

What the heck, Jamie thought, what happened to ‘our secret?’

“O, what did he do,” Becky asked with a frown.

“I caught him watching inappropriate TV. I’m not even sure I’m old enough to watch someone do that to a stick of butter.” The woman on the TV had a crazed look in her eye as she greased a casserole dish.

“Hahahaha!” Becky sat down on the couch.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Pasta alla gricia.”

“What’s that,” Jamie asked from the playpen.

“Pasta with bacon and pecorino cheese.”

“Geez,” Amanda said. “Feeling a bit peckish?”

“Well, I am eating for two.”

“I think I’ll make a salad for us, too,” Amanda said.

Jamie had no such qualms about the pasta, and by the time he was done his belly was bloated and he had grease on his face. Becky cleaned his face with a wet towel.

“Ya get a little carried away there, Jamie Bear?”

“It was really good,” he said. “I think I need to go running tomorrow.” Before setting him back on his feet when she lifted him out of the chair, she held him up, turned him around, and sniffed his butt.

Well, Jamie thought, that lacks a certain dignity for both of us.

“All clean,” Becky announced. She put him down and gave his diapered butt a swat.

“I’ll help with the dishes,” he volunteered.

“That’s sweet of you, but I think I got it. Why don’t you go find something to do in the living room?” She called out to him before he reached the door, “No cooking shows.” He giggled and made a hard right out the door, climbing the stairs to Amanda’s room.

He knocked. “Manda? Can I come in?”

“Sure, buddy,” she said. He opened the door and saw she was on her bed studying. He walked over, and she lifted him onto the bed next to her.

“What’re you learning about?”

“Littles,” she said, flashing him the cover of her textbook.

“What about us?”

“It’s about a court case involving a little who tried to become emancipated.”

“Emancipated? Like he had a big and then wanted to be independent?”

“Yep.”

“What happened?”

“You sure you wanna know?”

“Is it bad?”

“No. Well, sorta. It’s kinda sad.”

“I wanna know,” he decided after taking a second to think about it.

“His bigs died in a car accident, and he didn’t have any family. He ended up in a temporary home while waiting to be adopted again, but he didn’t want to be adopted again. He wanted to stay here and live on his own.”

“So he wasn’t regressed?”

“No, he wasn’t. The Department of Little Services where he lived said it was impossible for him to live alone, but word got out, and an advocacy group filed a lawsuit on his behalf.”

“Why didn’t his adoption agency just take him?”

“This was before agencies existed. He came here on his own to be adopted.”

“When was that?”

“60 years ago.”

“So what happened?”

“It went all the way to the High Court, and the judges ruled since he had signed away his rights and had been living as a dependent little for so long, he didn’t have standing to contest his placement or the ability to live on his own.”

“Was that true?”

“Historians say it’s not. This was when littles hadn’t been around for very long. Attitudes weren’t as evolved as they are now.”

“They’re not very evolved now,” Jamie retorted.

“Anyway, the court ruled he couldn’t be independent.”

“Did he just go home? I mean, back to Earth?”

“I don’t think he wanted to, or at least, there’s nothing that says that was ever considered.”

“So what happened to him?”

“One of the lawyers who represented him adopted him. So it sorta worked out.”

“How is that ‘working out?’”

“He wasn’t in foster care anymore, and his lawyer let him live more or less independently.”

“That’s not working out. That’s just the best of a bad situation. He wanted to be free.”

“You’re right,” Amanda said, “Anyway, it was a long time ago.”

“What would happen now?”

“The case is what led to the agency system. Now the little would be returned to the custody of the agency.”

“Hmm.” The two sat silently, Amanda watching him.

“Mom and I aren’t going anywhere, Jamie,” she assured him.

“That’s not what I was thinking about.”

“What then?”

“What happens when a little gets old?”

“Old?”

“Like, old. Like, old and sick.”

“There are daycares for them, and their bigs take care of them.”

“They don’t end up in a nursing home?”

“Of course not.”

“They don’t get, like, euthanized when they get really sick?”

“No,” she said as she moved the book off her lap and pulled Jamie closer, “They get taken care of at home by people who love them very much, and when it’s their time, they’re kept as comfortable as they can be.”

“That’s good,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” Amanda said trying to distract him. “I made you something during your nap. Or at least tried to.” She got off the bed and took something off her desk, then hid it behind her back. “You have to guess which hand it’s in.”

Jamie grunted in gentle amusement. “The right one.”

“My right or your right?”

“Yours.”

“Nope, but good guess,” she said as she sat down on the bed and took it from behind her back. She opened her hands to reveal one of Jamie’s diaper covers. “I added some decoration.” She turned it over to reveal ‘Jamie Bear’ embroidered on the butt. “I did it while you were napping. I can’t really sew well,” she said, embarrassed at the crude effort. “But it’s legible, I think.”

“It’s perfect,” Jamie said as he leaned over to hug Amanda. “Thank you.”

“And I’m gonna make one for your bear, too.”

“Why?”

“So the two of you match, silly.” Jamie smiled at her.

“Listen, it’s almost your bedtime. How about you and I start a new tradition. Before Mom feeds you each night, why don’t the two of us spend some time snuggling. How does that sound? We can even do bedtime stories.”

“I’d like that.”

“We can pick out a book tomorrow,” Amanda said as she laid back against her pillows and laid Jamie on her chest. He put his arms around her shoulders as best he could and rested his cheek under her chin. She rubbed his back and ran her fingers though his hair.

“Hey Manda,” Jamie said quietly, “Would it be impolite to ask Mom to shower before, ya know?” Amanda snorted with laughter in response and nearly caused Jamie to fall off.

Jamie laughed, too. “It’s just … well, you know.”

“Tell you what – how about I ask her about it for you tomorrow?”

“Okay.”

Becky eventually came and found them. “Here my babies are,” she said, smiling at the tableau of Amanda and Jamie together. “It’s bedtime for the Jamester.” Jamie sat up silently, feeling nervous. Amanda reluctantly let him go.

“Night-night, Jamie.”

“Night-night, Manda,” he waved from his spot resting on Becky’s shoulder.

In the nursery, Becky sat down in the rocking chair, picking up a spit rag she’d laid over the arm of the chair earlier. Jamie sat there awkwardly while Becky opened her shirt. With each button, he felt more nervous. He looked away when she opened her bra. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this each night for the past week, just that if felt new again and was weighted with more meaning.

With a gentle finger on his cheek, Becky turned Jamie’s face back toward her, and moving her finger to his chin, she tilted his head up so he was looking in her eyes.

“Are you ready, Baby Bear?”

“I thought I was Jamie Bear.”

“Yeah, but I like Baby Bear better,” she said softly. “Is my Baby Bear ready?”

He looked into her bright eyes, and the nervousness drained away, and he wanted so badly to nuzzle in to her and breathe her smell and feel her warmth and taste her milk. He didn’t answer, leaning his body into hers and beginning to nurse.

Becky drew a sharp breath, then relaxed, looking down at him and supporting his head with one arm while the other rhythmically patted his diapered butt through his sleeper.

“That’s mama’s good boy.”