Done Adulting Vol. 1 Ch. 25

“What are we doing today,” Jamie asked after his breakfast of pureed fruit. It felt good to be back on something other than liquids, though he really liked the formula. Still, he missed chewing, something he’d never even thought of before, and that was still several weeks away.

“I don’t know yet,” Becky replied. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“Not really.”

“You’re bored, huh?”

“Well, pretty much been in the house since I got here, other than a couple errands.”

“Why don’t I call Jane and see if she and Rosie want to do something with us. You can go play meanwhile.”

Jamie toddled off to find Amanda, who was in the shower. Not that he’d have minded just sitting in the bathroom while she did that. Jamie didn’t think of her that way, he just enjoyed being by her side, and he didn’t have much else to do. So he went to his room and got his bear, then sat down in his chair with one of the books he got. He was surprised by it. It had, at best, young adult themes, but it was written well enough to be absorbing.

“Jamie,” he heard Becky coming down the stairs. “We’re gonna go to the beach and meet Jane and Rosie. I’m going to pull our things together, and I’ll be back in a bit to get you dressed, okay?”

“Okay.” A beach, the most public of public places. Of all the places to go, the beach would have been Jamie’s last pick. Staying home sounded better. But having asked to do something different, he knew he couldn’t back out now. He tried to turn back to his reading, but he kept picturing himself waddling out of the water with half the ocean in his swimsuit.

“Hey! I heard you’re going to the beach.” Amanda smelled like flowers he hadn’t smelled before.

“Yeah,” he feigned some enthusiasm.

“Can I come?”

“Of course!”

“Mom’s getting a bunch of stuff ready. How about I get you dressed?” Amanda started rooting through the closet.

“Ok … what am I gonna wear to the beach?”

“Well, I figured this would be a good chance to break out the sailor suit. I mean, we were gonna save it for a religious holidays and christening ships, but now that I think on it, that’s just dumb. If you can’t wear a sailor suit to the beach, you might as well just have the hat and not the suit, right?”

Jamie knew when he was being put on. It actually made him feel good. Kids don’t get sarcasm; it’s mean to be sarcastic with kids. That Amanda would joke this way with him just showed she respected him.

“Unless you’d like to wear something else …?”

“Um, how about a bathing suit and a t-shirt?”

“That’s what I like about you, Jamie. You’re stylish yet understated. Let’s get you changed.” She lifted him onto the changing table. She unzipped his sleeper, and as she put in the hamper, he reclined on the changing pad.

The few minutes of time he got without a diaper each day were pleasant for him. Just feeling air where he rarely felt it was nice, and that the time coincided with baths, which he also loved, and with Amanda paying such gentle attention to him was extra special. Wanting a toilet to use above anything else, he had been timing his voiding for when Amanda was most likely to be the next one he saw. It didn’t always work, but two out of every three changes were done by her. It wasn’t that Rebecca wasn’t just as good at it. It was just that between the two of them, he preferred Amanda in pretty much all things, and if he couldn’t choose where to empty himself, he could choose when and thus who changed him.

“Um … Amanda, I, uh … I can’t swim in this, can I?”

“Not unless you want to carry around about 4 liters of ocean with you. We have some swim diapers for you.”

“O.” Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

She had him in swim trunks and a t-shirt in another minute and put sandals on his feet. He already had a tan from spending so much time out in the backyard. In fact, having been chained to a desk, he hadn’t been so tan in years.

“Let’s go wait in the living room for Mom.” She helped him down, and the two of them went to the living room. Or rather carried Jamie to the living room and lifted him into his playpen while she went to get herself ready. Jamie didn’t mind. He’d left his coloring book in there.

Jamie was starting to sort of like the playpen. If he sat against the side away from the center of the room, he could still see out through the mesh, but he was a little more hidden.

Becky came crashing up the stairs with chairs; then she went back down and came crashing up with a mesh bag full of beach toys; then she went down and came crashing back up with an umbrella. This is quite the production, Jamie thought. She had worked up a sweat and decided to get herself ready next just as Amanda came down wearing a T-shirt dress and carrying a backpack.

“What happened to you,” Amanda asked when she saw her mom.

“I was getting stuff from the basement.”

“I’d have helped, Mom.”

“It’s alright. How ‘bout you go make us a lunch while I change?”

So Amanda went and filled a cooler with water and food for them, and that went into the car, too. It wasn’t a large car. This seemed a bit much to Jamie; they were just taking a day trip to a beach, and he thought they lived near it. He told himself to remember to ask for a map, something Amanda and Becky had said they’d show him but that all three had forgotten about.

Becky came back downstairs in a new outfit carrying an overstuffed pool bag on her arm. She set it down, went back down the hall, and came back with Jamie’s diaper bag.

“Are we ready?” Jamie didn’t know who she was asking.

“Yeah, Mom. So long as we don’t forget Jamie,” Amanda said as she came back into the living room and lifted him from the playpen. I could live with that, Jamie wanted to say.

Even from his low vantage point, Jamie could see the back of the car was filled with stuff. He had a lot of beach experience and knew you didn’t need all this. Not unless you were taking kids. O, he thought.

This presented a dilemma. Jamie didn’t feel compelled to use eight buckets and five shovels and a sifter and a net. But so much work went into bringing it all, he felt he had to. As Amanda buckled him in, he asked, “Will you sit in the back with me?”

“Sure, buddy!” She went around to the other side and climbed in. Becky buckled herself in and headed toward the beach.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Rosie.”

“Ah. You want to know what she’s like?”

“Yeah.”

“I used to babysit her.”

“Why don’t you anymore?”

“School, and because Jane’s neighbor’s daughter is old enough to now, and she’s cheaper than I am.”

“So what is she like then?”

“She’s about your age.”

That was confusing. “Which … of my … ages?” Did that even make sense?

“Your little age. I think she’s older than you where you’re from.”

“How long has she been here?”

“I want to say twelve years.”

“So she decided to stay then.”

“Yep. She’s a happy bitty little.”

“Does Jane have any kids?”

“No, she says she never wanted any. After a while, she decided she wanted a little though.”

“But …. How is that different?”

“It …” That was a good question. Having a little was arguably more work than a kid. Kids grow up and need less care. Only a handful of littles grow up. Most stay in the same developmental stage they arrive, or and a few even go backward.

“I guess I’m not sure.”

“But it is different, though, right? I mean …” He had trouble wrapping his head around it, too.

Amanda tried again. “I think, maybe … maybe Jane liked the idea of always having someone who depended on her and being able to take care of her forever.”

“But doesn’t your mom do that for you?”

Such a sweet guy, Amanda thought. “Ya know, you’re right. She does. But I think every parent is torn. A part of them wants to see their child grow up and get to know the person they become, and a part of them wants their child to stay young, even so young that they need their moms and dads for everything.”

That made sense to Jamie. “That makes sense. So how far is the beach anyway?”

“It’s on the other side of that hill.” She pointed to the ridge on their left.

“Maybe when we get home, you could show me a map of where we live.”

They pulled into a sandy parking lot filled with cars like Becky’s. From his seat, Jamie could see other people unloading as much junk as they had. Jamie had no idea what time it was, but he was feeling tired and figured it must be near his morning nap time.

“Chill here; we’ll get some stuff out first.” Jamie kicked his legs for no reason, his feet dangling so low they didn’t hit the seat. The hatch of the car opened, and it sounded like all but a few of their things clattered to the pavement.

Becky got the entire car seat out with Jamie still in it and secured it into the stroller. She looked at Jamie and at the pile. “Can you walk?”

“Of course I can.” Does she think I’m gonna forget how?

Jamie was set on his feet next to the stroller, and as much of their stuff as it could fit ended up in it, under it, or hanging from it. From stroller to luggage cart. Still, they’d need to make more than one trip. Jamie appraised himself. This was the most normal outfit he’d worn since he got there, even if the shirt had a whale on it. The swimsuit did nothing to disguise what he had on underneath, but catching glimpses of other littles between the cars as they walked past, he counted himself lucky he wasn’t wearing a speedo, or nothing but a diaper. He remembered people taking their babies around like that in public back home, and he always wondered what possessed a parent to do that. It was hardly dignified for the child, and it wasn’t exactly polite to the people around them either: here, it said, this is my child and the thing they void their bowels into; we thought you’d enjoy it more if there wasn’t even a layer of cloth to obscure the view.

“And we’re off.” Amanda held Jamie’s hand as they crossed the parking lot, looking both ways. They headed toward the boardwalk. Jamie looked at the sand: white and fine. There was sand like that at home, but he’d never seen it in person. A dozen trash cans, some overflowing, were near the entrance to the boardwalk; that part he did remember from home.

The boardwalk was long. Thankfully Amanda and Becky slowed down so he didn’t have to speed-walk to keep up. When they finally came in sight of the sea, Jamie stopped walking and took in the scene. He smiled; a tear fell from his eye, the good kind.

“Honey, is everything okay,” Becky asked.

“Yeah. It looks like home.”

The two of them waited for his cue before they walked on. At the foot of the boardwalk ramp were two dozen other strollers. It was still early in the day; Jamie could at least tell that from the sun, and it wasn’t as warm yet as it would be. He wondered if things would get busier or if this was it. Jamie was handed his diaper bag and the sack of beach toys, and Becky and Amanda shouldered the chairs and umbrella.

They turned left from the boardwalk. Their balls of their feet slipped a little with each step, the rubber soles of their sandals squeaking. It was a little hard on the calves, just like Jamie remembered. The salt in the air; the smell of sea life; those were familiar, too.

When they’d walked past a line of chairs and blankets of other beachgoers, they spotted Jane waving to them. She trotted over and took the toy bag.

“More toys! Exactly what we need,” she chuckled. “Good morning, Jamie. Are you excited for your first time at the beach here?”

“Good morning, Jane. I am. I missed it more than I thought.”

“Rosie can’t wait to meet you.”

They reached the spot Jane had picked out, just above where the surf stopped; he could feel the tide had only stopped washing over the area less than an hour ago. The sand wasn’t dry; it was spongy and cool.

Rosie didn’t pay them much attention. She was seated with her legs under her, working on something on the sand in front of her. She had an array of buckets and tools to work with.

“Rosie,” Jane said as she knelt down and touched her on the shoulder, “I want you to meet Jamie.” Jane’s voice was odd, he thought, the change in tone so carefully measured. Rosie turned around, and Jamie saw what she’d been working on – a wet mound of sand.

He looked her up and down. One-piece bathing suit with polka dots and ruffles on her butt, clearly padded underneath. She had black hair and olive skin. He couldn’t tell how old she really was; it was impossible to know because of the cosmetic work the doctors did, the same kind of work that made him lose his facial and body hair and look and feel so much younger.

When she turned all the way around, he saw she was blushing, and when she spoke, she rushed the words out: “Hi, Jamie. I’m Rosie. Wanna help me build a castle?”

Jamie hadn’t considered it, and no one had told him. She’s regressed, he realized.