Dear Miss Good
Please accept my thanks for your help in turning my husband Peter into a delightful little babykins these days he is completely unrecognisable from the unruly spoilt brat he once was.
I have followed your advice to the letter. At 5 pm exactly I run his bath and lay out his pyjamas. Last night he wore the yellow bunny rabbit pyjamas that you thoughtfully provided the location of the shop that sold the required material for. (It didn't take my mother long to sew them)
After his bath, I soon had him dressed ready for bed. Once he is wearing his infantile jim-jams he must, as you recommend, be addressed by and answer only to his baby name.
It was great fun, each of us devising a name and as you advised, we ended up putting them into a hat and making him "choose" his own baby name. Peter Peepeepants, Lindy Lollipops and Susie Sugar Plum were all excellent but my mother's suggestion, Peterkins Pyjamakins was the one that came out of the hat. (His baby bonnet actually).
At first, he was quite reluctant to answer to his baby name but luckily my mother spent twenty minutes with him draped over her lap while she persuaded him otherwise. Mother only has to take off one of her pink furry slippers and he rushes into my arms, fearful of a spanking.
"Is Peterkins Pyjamakins fwightened of Mrs Slipper den?" She will tease, laughing as he clings babyishly to me while she brandishes her slipper mischievously.
My sister never misses a chance to tease him either. She called around at 5.30 last night when of course he was already dressed for beddy-byes.
"Oh look at the ickle baby in his pwetty jim-jams, whoever could it be? Tell Aunty Susan what your name is sweetheart?" She asked.
He shuffled his bunny slippered clad feet and turned beetroot red but Susan was prepared to persevere to get the response she wanted.
"Peterkins Pyjamakins" he mumbled.
"Oh dear, Aunty Susan knows you can do better than that let's try again shall we?"
His eyes flickered from me to my mother. "Mummy and Nanny can't help you, what is your name?"
"Please, Aunty Susan my name is Peterkins Pyjamakins."
The three of us howled with laughter while my husband stood with his head bowed and looking very foolish and babyish wearing his bunny rabbit pyjamas and slippers.
After he has kissed and waved night-night to Aunty Susan and Nanny and they have fussed over him, adjusting his pyjama bottoms and smoothing down his pyjama jacket collar, I take him up to bed at 6 pm. As you so rightly said, Peterkins has benefited from a regular bedtime. He now sleeps in the spare bedroom. Nursery rhyme paper decorates the walls and apart from a soft pink carpet, there is only a small child's bed and a chair that I sit on to read his bedtime story.
I make sure the curtains are tightly closed so that no chink of daylight can intrude. Of course, at first he was upset at having to go to bed at 6 pm but I was able to cure him of that. One evening despite receiving a spanking Peterkins was still having a tantrum about going to beddy-byes. I tethered him to the washing line by putting baby reins over his teddy bear jim-jams and sat him on his baby rug. Peterkins had nowhere to hide and once Miss McPherson our neighbour spotted him over the garden fence and decided to have a little chat there has been hardly a murmur of objection. If there ever is I just have to say, “shall I fetch your baby reins,” and he is as good as gold.
Before bedtime, I pin him into his nightimes nappies. Since you recommend two baby bottles of milk at bedtime it has become essential that he is securely nappied and protected with rubber pants.
Once he is safely tucked into bed I pin the ribbon attached to his dummy to his pyjamas and pop the dummy into his mouth. These day's he accepts it quite readily and there is no need to tie it in place. I tuck his dolly, Flora Frillikins in beside him and spend ten minutes reading from his book of bedtime stories that my mother thoughtfully bought for Peterkins Pyjamakins birthday. Then it's lights out and off to sleepy-byes for Peterkins.
As you suggested, at the weekend he is punished for any misbehaviour with over the knee spankings dressed in his pyjamas and put to bed immediately regardless of the time of day
Often, on a Sunday when I return from my round of golf at 4 pm, I am met by my mother dealing with a spanked, tearful, and pyjama clad Peterkins begging not to be put to bed at such an early hour. Of course, his pleadings are ignored and on these occasions, I always follow your advice not to overrule any decision made by my mother or sister or indeed any female who has reason to discipline Peterkins Pyjamakins.
With your permission, I will give you another update soon.
Mrs Agnes Harecourt
No comments:
Post a Comment