Thursday, 19 January 2017

Pink Pyjama Punishment from Miss Jacobson

After my pyjama bottoms had failed her morning inspection Miss Jacobson was most unhappy, ”third time this month, you naughty boy.” She ordered me to report to her in the utility room at 4.30, showered and wearing my striped pyjamas. Nervously I informed her that my blue striped pyjamas were still in the laundry, for the same embarrassing reason.

"Then attend wearing a towel!" She countered angrily in that tone of voice I knew was not to be disobeyed. At 4.29, as requested I stood outside the utility room with my feet in slippers and wrapped in a towel to concealing my modesty.

 I could hear her moving on the other side of the door and I hesitated, uncertain whether I should just walk straight in or knock. I knocked softly on the door.

"Come! "I swallowed deeply, then entered. I was confronted with her imposing presence, she was attired in her blue matron's uniform and in her hands, she held a pair of floral pink winceyette pyjamas. 

“Since you have been so careless with your own pyjamas, I want you to put on these pink ones, they are from matron’s cupboard," she said, staying in character. "Come along now, step into these," I was ordered as she pulled off my flimsy towel.

She held the pink floral pyjama bottoms by the waist, stretching the elastic. “P..p..please may I be allowed to wear wear boy’s pyjamas?” I stuttered.

Ignoring my protests she dressed me in the humiliating pink pyjamas, she buttoned me into the frilly pyjama jacket then guided me towards the ironing board that stood in the far corner. 

“I want you to stand there and iron that laundry, be very careful with my blouses, at the bottom of the pile you will find your pyjamas.”

It took me nearly two hours to iron three of matrons blouses and my two pairs of pyjamas to her satisfaction. “Now then off to bed with, you will go to bed at 6.30 for the next three nights.”

I sighed, but accepting my punishment began to undo the buttons of the pink pyjamas.“Stop! What are you doing?” she queried. 

“I was going to put my pyjamas on,” I replied puzzled.

Miss Jacobson smiled, then informed me that as well as the three early bedtimes I was to wear the pink pyjamas to bed for three nights also. She took my hand and led me to my bedroom.

She tucked me into bed and kissed my forehead. “Night-night, I trust you now realise how important it is to keep those hands above the covers?” I squirmed embarrassingly under the sheets in my pink floral winceyette pyjamas before replying, “yes Miss Jacobson, I promise to be a good boy from now on.”

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

Nanny puts you to bed early

You stand, hands on head facing the wall. Tingly clean from the bath you have just been given you are acutely conscious of the thick, snowy white nappies that confine and embrace your cuckolded manhood. To your left, you can see her reflection in the mirror.

Nanny is always immaculately dressed. Her black hair is severely tied back enhancing her austere, strict demeanour. The white starched collar of her blouse peeks out over the neckline of her long black dress. The cuffs of her blouse are similarly starched and buttoned, extending exactly one inch from the sleeves of her dress. Her frilly white apron is rigid with starch and on the bibbed front is pinned a nurses watch. She irons methodically, concentration absolute as she defies creases to disobey her.

She is aware you are watching her through the mirror and crooks a finger at you.
You turn to face her taking two steps forward. She delicately slips her hands into the white, soft cotton flannelette nightdress and motions you to lift your arms. She swaps her arms for yours as she eases first your hands then your head into the nightdress.

Momentarily it rests on your shoulders and you can feel the transfer of warmth from the iron. Then, as she gently eases the nightdress past your shoulders it cascades lovingly down to encompass you. There is a sharp intake of breath from you as the nightdress envelops your body. The softness of the pure white flannelette caress's your chest, your arms, and your legs. It even extends down to your ankles until finally, the material rests gently upon your feet.

Nanny fastens the four buttons that encase your neck in the flannelette. She reaches around behind you and raises the deliberately starched frilly lace collar until it resides perfectly positioned to irritate and tickle your chin. She takes your left arm and draws the sleeve down toward her until the elastic threaded in the cuff firmly grips your wrist, then flounces out the exaggerated lace frill on the cuff until she is satisfied with its appearance.

Nanny repeats the process with your right arm, except this time your hand is slipped into a pink, lambs wool mitten. Carefully she draws the threaded ribbon together until you feel the pressure on your wrist. She wraps the ribbon around the mitten three times before she ties a double bow, gently easing each side of the bow until they are exactly each size. She repeats the procedure with your other hand and as she completes the procedure you realise that you cannot move a finger no matter how hard you try, the slightest wiggle is beyond you.

She turns your head. In her hand you see her holding one of your greatest dislikes about bedtime punishment. Your eyes are afraid and you give a small almost imperceptible shake of the head. Nanny ignores your insignificant protest and doesn't hesitate to place the earplugs firmly into each of your ears. No sooner has she done this than your night bonnet is fitted.

Made from the same white cotton flannelette as your nightdress, Nanny slips it onto the back of your head. It feels tight. Nanny has sewn an extra large frill around the bonnet and starched it to create a peek-a-boo style night bonnet. Teasing it forward, the ribbon lengths that tie the bonnet rest loosely on the frilled bodice of your nightdress. Nanny manoeuvres and tweaks the bonnet until it is positioned exactly where she requires it. Your peripheral vision is now nonexistent as the night bonnet is fixed into place; all you are aware of are white frills.

From Nanny's apron pocket comes your dummy. She pins it to the frilled bodice of your nightdress and you swallow hard, taking what you anticipate to be your last meaningful gulp of air for many a long hour. Instead, she lets it hang by its ribbon, you can feel it dangling threateningly against your chest but you cannot see it.

Nanny places a firm hand in the small of your back, pressing the flannelette against your skin as she directs you with a pointed finger toward the bed. All you can see is what appears to be the vast desert of a white, starched cotton sheet. Taking four steps forward, the flannelette material of your nightdress caress's against your calf's, then at your next step against your thighs and legs.

You tremor as you sit on the side of the bed as directed by Nanny. Her hands embrace your ankles and you are swivelled onto the bed. Your head is lowered into a sea of white cotton, the odour of fresh starch fills your nasal passages and you feel as if you are lying on an unyielding solid block of crisp starched cotton as your feet and toes explore the tactile sensation. Not for long, however, do your feet enjoy their sensory experience. As you stare past the frills of your night bonnet at the ceiling, Nanny's hands put a stop to the exploring tendency of your feet. You feel Nanny pull your nightdress down past your ankles and feet and the crepe bandage being wound around the nightdress encompassing your ankles in the flannelette. Five times she encircles them before the ends of the bandage are slipped skilfully under and over each other to ensure no slippage.

Experimentally you try and prise your ankles apart, all to no avail, but for the moment you can move them as one unit from side to side and you do so gleefully, enjoying the combination of nightdress flannelette rubbing against starched cotton sheet. From past experience, you know this freedom is only temporary. You can envisage the ends of the bandage being secured to the metal bed end.  Soon your feet are immobile, encased in flannelette and securely tied. Then you feel the tightness in your chest. Now there is no escape from your bedtime ordeal. Three times you count the bandage encircling you. You are aware of Nanny reaching underneath the bed until suddenly the bandage is tightened and it becomes more difficult to breathe. You attempt to sit up but all you can manage is to lift your head a few inches from the white cotton pillowcase.

Now comes the dummy. Nanny places the teat of the dummy against your lips but in a fruitless act of defiance you keep them tight together and shake your head inside your night bonnet. Impassively Nanny squeezes your cheeks and as you involuntarily open your mouth the teat of the dummy slips inside your mouth. Nanny holds it in place as she pumps the rubber valve. You feel the bulb inside your mouth expand, depressing your tongue and filling your mouth. Instinctively you try to expel the dummy but it is already too late. Nanny has inflated it perfectly. You breathe in, and even with the constraint of the chest bandage securing you to the bed you thankfully manage to take in air successfully.

The few seconds of panic are over as you realise you can breathe as long as you remain calm. Nanny's heels click to the end of the bed. Directly above you, your limited vision is confronted with the sight of a white cotton flannelette sheet floating down toward you. You have an image of Nanny standing at the bottom of the bed and launching the sheet into the air. It settles upon you like a shroud, covering your face and you breathe slightly more quickly as you are deprived of vital air. You can feel Nanny working her way up toward you, the mattress lifts slightly as she tucks in the sheet. She is very close now but still your face is encased in flannelette. You gasp for air again as you feel the weight of the eiderdown crashing upon you. It too is worked its way under the mattress by Nanny until you sense she is right beside you.

You are lifted up as the eiderdown is tucked securely in; you are now, without a doubt, pinioned to the bed. Without hope of release until Nanny has decided otherwise. You know this will not be anytime soon. The flannelette is removed from your face and cool air hits you. Nanny turns it back, neatly creating an edge to the eiderdown. The flannelette sheet is positioned under your chin and Nanny is suddenly staring down at you through the frills of your night bonnet, tweaking and adjusting the frills to her satisfaction. You can read her watch as she fusses with your bonnet, ten past three in the afternoon. You suck heavily on your dummy as you digest the time.

Nanny moves out of view as the room darkens. The curtains are drawn and hermetically sealed. A pinpoint of light from Nanny's torch blinds your eyes for a second then it is gone. Your vision is confused and you wait for a moment for it to adjust. Then you realise you are alone. The darkness is all pervading and you realise your eyes cannot adapt to complete darkness. Your ear-plugs confine your aural senses to the sound of your heartbeat and your attempt to breathe rhythmically through your dummy.

The imaginary clock in your head that begins to tick away the long hours of silence and darkness that engulfs you.

Thursday, 12 January 2017

A collection of Sissy Pyjamas

Pink Romper Pyjamas 

Pink Footed Pyjamas

Pink Frilly Pyjamas 1

Pink Frilly Pyjamas 2

Pink Frilly Pyjamas and Quilted Dressing Gown

Simon's Bedtime Story. This is the original unabridged letter as received by PPM. As all publications they edited content to save space.

 Beatrice requests advice.

Dear Nanny Smackbottom

I thought you might like to know about the infantile lifestyle I impose on my nephew Simon. He was in great danger of going off the rails and ruining his life before I became involved and introduced him to an early bedtime and pyjama punishment regime.

Now he goes to bed on school nights at 6.30. I collect him from school at 3.30 as if he was a preschooler always ensuring he holds my hand all the way home.

If it is chilly weather I make sure he wears the mittens I knitted for him and as soon as we arrive home I supervise his bath time. I insist upon bathing him as one would a small child. Using a washcloth and a sponge to ensure I clean every nook and cranny. Of course, he complains and wants to wash by himself as if he were a big boy, but a few sharp slaps on his bare bottom soon stops such nonsense.

After bath time I immediately dress Simon in his pyjamas ready for bed. My neighbours Miss Freda Fulbright and her sister Felicity, make his pyjamas especially for him. They choose ridiculously babyish patterned flannel material of brushed cotton to sew his pyjamas, these are also made a size too large for him so as to enhance his babyish appearance when wearing them. My particular favourites are his yellow Teddy bear pyjamas and his blue Thomas the Tank Engine ones and I can tell you that Simon absolutely hates wearing them. He especially dislikes his Teddy Bear jim-jams, he looks so crestfallen each afternoon as I button him into his cute little boy pyjamas, often begging to be allowed to put daytime clothes on but I quickly remind him that all little boys have to get ready for beddy-byes after their baths and he is no exception.

Once he is safely dressed in his pyjamas, Simon goes across my knee for his first bedtime spanking. I like to spank him as soon as he is in his pyjamas to remind him of his little boy status. He then settles down to complete his homework until I call him for his supper at 5.30. His supper is taken perched in his high chair, I tie a bib around his neck to keep his pj's clean and serve him nutritious meals in a plastic dish and spoon as metal cutlery is far too dangerous for little boys to use. I am afraid Simon makes rather a mess as he eats because I fasten on him his mealtime mittens, making his ability to use his plastic utensil somewhat limited. Consequently, I have to spoon cold food from his bib into his mouth which he detests, turning his face away from the spoon as I encourage him to open up the tunnel for the choo-choo train.

This often initiates one of Simon's tantrums, broccoli and carrots are often sprayed about the kitchen as he waves his mitten-clad hands about petulantly. I am afraid I have to chastise him with a spell of corner time.

After I have let him down from his high chair and removed his mealtime mittens, I position him in the corner making him stand with hands on head and his nose pressed against the wall while I clean the kitchen.

At six o’clock I send him up to wash and brush his teeth and he comes straight back to present himself to me with his hands by his side, it is then that I inspect my little soldier. I ensure he has cleaned his teeth correctly and that his face and hands are clean then I make sure his pyjamas are buttoned up correctly and that he has his slippers on properly. Unfortunately, I always find a problem with his appearance and am forced to take him across my knee for a second bedtime spanking.

For his second spanking, I always lower his pyjamas and redden his bottom for him with one of his own slippers, afterwards though I take him up onto my lap and he receives a cuddle from aunty. Then it is time for his bedtime protection. Simon requires a nappy at bedtime because of his early bedtimes, the poor little boy is always wet in the morning.

I spread his nappy out and cream and powder him, Simon seems to enjoy this part of his bedtime routine the most and I often have to calm him down before I can fasten the tabs on his nappy and pull up his pyjama bottoms.

He looks so sweet, waddling about nappied wearing his oversized Teddy Bear pyjamas and slippers. After I have dressed him for bed it is time for his sleepy time milk. He drinks this from a sippy cup sitting on my lap after which I take him by the hand and lead him upstairs to tuck him into bed.

His bedroom is strictly functional, no electronic distractions whatsoever, just a small babyish two foot six wide bed made up with bedding bearing similarly childish motifs as his pyjamas. His curtains are made from a thick blackout material to ensure no daylight can penetrate once they are fully drawn. This is particularly helpful during the lighter nights when Simon is petulant about being put to bed early when it is still light out.

There is also a chair that I sit upon to read him his nigh-night story, the story I read each bedtime is the same every time called Down On The Farm.

"Farmer Giles goes to feed his pigs, the pigs are very pleased to see him, how do the pigs greet Farmer Giles?" I begin each time.

Simon lies tucked up tightly in bed wearing his nappy and little boy pyjamas and very reluctantly replies, "Oink, oink!"

Farmer Giles then visits the ducks, the hens and also his sheep. Each time Simon knows I expect to hear him reply without hesitation.

"Quack, quack", "cluck, cluck" and "baa baa". I love how his cheeks redden as I praise him.

"What a clever boy you are, but now it's time to snuggle down and go straight to sleepy-byes."  As I bend over to kiss him night-night I pop his dummy into his mouth, it took a long while for Simon to come to terms with using it but now he always wants his dum-dum at bedtime.

On Friday night the routine is exactly the same, he is bathed and dressed in his pyjamas as usual. I did experiment with letting him stay up until seven o’clock but he became tired and irritable so I reverted back to his normal weekday bedtime.

Miss Fulbright and her sister visit for afternoon tea at four o'clock on the last Saturday of the month. They so look forward to seeing Simon dressed in the babyish pyjamas they kindly make for him and Freda and Felicity particular enjoy listening to Simon sing and recite night-night songs for them. To enhance his sense of embarrassment I have a special singing stool for him to stand on as he performs.

When the doorbell rings Simon is already dressed for bed wearing his nappy and babyish pyjamas. As I have taught him, he rushes excitedly to hug Aunty Felicity and Aunty Freda as soon as they enter the lounge and they enjoy fussing over him, taking it in turns setting him on their laps and telling him how cute and babyish he looks wearing his Teddy Bear pyjamas.

Even now, he does still become a little shy at all the attention he receives which is why I always pin his dummy to his pyjama jacket when they visit. Quite often he has popped in his dummy without realising he has done so which is quite sweet to witness.

Once I have served tea and Simon has sipped his sleepy time milk, I place his singing stool into the centre of the room, it is only small and he is no more than ten inches above the floor but he still is a little tentative and I have to hold his hand to help him up.

The sisters sit expectantly with their hands resting comfortably in the lap of their skirts and wearing their usual prim, delicate white blouses.

I always have to help Simon to begin.

“After three. One and two and three!”

His voice quivers a bit at first and he looks to me for encouragement.

He begins with a recital.

“Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown,
Tapping at the window, crying at the lock,
Are the children in their bed, for it’s past six o’clock?”

He recites two verses and the Fulbright sisters clap enthusiastically and then resume their neat postures in expectation of further entertainment.

Simon has by now gained a little confidence as once again I encourage him to begin, this time singing a well-known favourite.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are.
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.”

As he performs, he looks up and raises his arms as he sings the words, “up above the world so high.”

Of course, the ladies simply adore this and applaud once again as Simon bows ever so slightly, still a little afraid he may fall from his stool.

Next up is another recital.

“Bye, baby Bunting,
Father’s gone a-hunting,
Mother’s gone a-milking,
Sister’s gone a-silking,
Brother’s gone to buy a skin
To wrap the baby Bunting in.”

He repeats this several times all the time using a very soft babyish voice that I have taught him to use and my, how Freda and Felicity enjoy listening to his rendition, especially as they know it is nearly time for their favourite song.

I play my part by helping Simon down from his singing stool and making him bow to the ladies.

“Encore, encore,” they cheer and I assist him back onto the stool for his finale.

He pauses before beginning, once more using his soft, whispering, infantile voice.

“Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetops,
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all.”

Again Simon acts out the rhyme, holding his arms out, rocking the baby as he sings. He sings the verse several times before finally, he is allowed to finish and step down with a little help from aunty.

Once again the ladies fuss over him as they hug and kiss him affectionately, telling him again what a clever little boy he is.

Soon though it is time for bed, on these special occasions he has an earlier six o’clock bedtime as Simon becomes tired quickly. At my instigation, he gives Freda and Felicity night-night hugs and kisses before they leave and I take him up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire.

I have to admit, however, that on their last visit they were left somewhat disappointed. For some reason Simon resisted my attempts to get him ready for beddy-byes and into his pair of lemon coloured, bunny rabbit footed pyjamas. I had to spank him before I could get him into them and he ended up in tears across my knee and was still sobbing when the Misses Fulbright arrived, I am afraid I had no choice other than to put him straight to bed.

It was such a shame, as he looked so sweet in his new bunny jim-jams that the Fulbright's had just sewed for him. They were obviously disappointed at not being able to fuss over him, Instead, they could only wave him off to bed as he was far too fractious for night-night kisses.

I did, however, promise to visit them one afternoon with Simon wearing his bunny rabbit jammies to make it up to them which is another story.

Simon will shortly be eighteen and finished with his schooling. I had intended to loosen the apron strings so to speak but now, as the time approaches, I feel that it would be so much better to keep Simon in his current little boy regime and perhaps enhance it so that he becomes my permanent little boy.

Should I keep him confined to his present early bedtime routine or not?  I would appreciate any advice nanny Smackbottom.

 Perhaps you think I am being too harsh? Below is his bedtime routine.

Summation of Simons current pyjama and bedtime regime.


Pyjamas on by 4 pm, first spanking 4.05 second spanking 6.05, bedtime by 6.30 pm

Saturday when the Fulbrights visit

Pyjamas on by 3 pm. Entertaining the ladies, bedtime at 6 pm.


Pyjamas on by 3 pm first spanking 3.05 second spanking 4.30 bedtime by 5 pm as he has to be up for school.

Yours truly

Beatrice Halewood

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Tuesday, 3 January 2017

A sixteen year old boy suffers early bedtimes at the hands of taunting females A continuation of the story that was contributed anonymously and posted 21 September 2016

Part Two -  Monday

Later on, perhaps even hours later, I awoke, still very, very groggy and thought I heard muffled gossiping and laughter from out on the patio below my window, but I am intentionally isolated from the real world; by earplugs that Bea had inserted, and to reflect on my behaviour, so I can’t discern their amusement; nor am I allowed to see beyond this horrid sleep mask. What angered me more than anything, was that once my bedroom door was closed and locked, mom and my sisters would not have to be concerned about me anymore, for they knew that once in bed, I would brood, have a baby tantrum, pout, or  whine for a while, but I would sleep; and due to the effectiveness of the “wireless baby-sitter”; the baby monitor, they could eavesdrop on me in my room of punishment, forcing me to be either implicitly obedient or a miscreant of my own choice. The warning was clear however, make any deliberate sound, such as complain aloud, cry, etc. and I would risk being punished thanks to this baby monitor. I was strongly opposed when mom agreed to let Beatrice carry the receiver unit on her so that she could “baby-sit” me from afar without even being in the room, listening for any excuse to tell mom and thus extend my bed punishment; that’s how overbearing those dreaded pestilent and overbearing snobs were! It was effective and advantageous for them, especially if company was over, so they could enjoy themselves, without my presence, thus provoking me...

As I lay in bed brooding, I made a wish that I never end up this way again; I am so bored and annoyed to be in bed; what’s worse is after that, no one is concerned about me! That’s is what makes it the most effective means to put an end to any type of misbehaviour and gain peace, even if wrongly and unjust. Somehow, I am afraid that it will continue; as my evil pestilent sisters will conjure up ways, and that, I will end up with a regular schedule like Luc and Alain...But before I fall asleep, I toss and turn; trying not to emit any sound, talk, cry or whimper, but the joyful sounds from just outside my window, remind me I am very much forgotten; and that everyone else is having a great time…

They all had a pleasant dinner about 7:00 pm, and after enjoyed desert later, played some bridge, as the children, and especially my sisters enjoyed my electronic games, gossiping and making fun of me. And finally; the party ended well past 1:00 am in the early morning, about 16 hours after I was put to bed….

Monday: The first day of punishment:

It was nearly 7:00 am, when my bedroom door was opened by my boisterous and pestilent sisters, insensitive to my apparent and intentional slumber, and obvious making every attempt to provoke me. Beatrice leaned over and gently whispered in my ear, as she removed the earplugs and the sleep mask; and I as opened my sleepy eyes, Beatrice was leering and gloating at me, then drew back my bed-covers neatly and in a meticulous way.  At that moment, Tina was opening the heavy curtains, and then raised the shades. The flood-gate of sunlight was blinding to me, for I was in the darkness since 9:00 am yesterday morning. My first reaction was one of anger, annoyance and frustration…

-“…it’s uppies time now baby brother!” Beatrice cooed sweetly.


-“…oh still sleepy?” she cooed,

-“Go away…UGH, all that light….I’m blind, you tart!”

-“How cheeky, tsk, tsk!” Bea scoffs, shaking her head.

-“tart is it?...” Tina sneered, “bad grouchy baby, bad, bad!”

As I rubbed my eyes away of sleep, stretched and tried to awaken, I saw mom standing in the doorway, glaring at me with her arms folded.

-“Looks like someone woke up cranky!” mom jeered, “We’ll soon fix that”.

-“I’m sorry mom…..”

-“For that outburst, I am now going to allow Tina and Beatrice to bathe you” mom stated firmly, “…and bring you down for breakfast”.

-“Oh no…not that..uh…er…please no mom??”

-“…and if you repeat this performance tomorrow morning, you will spend yet another day in bed…” she stated fervently, adding cynically, “I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind!”

-“Not at all!” Tina retorts.

-“…and if that happens, the only breakfast he should get is a sedative suppository” Beatrice giggles in agreement.

-“…your bath is ready Francois; so your sisters will scrub you clean now, while I remake your bed with fresh sheets…” she commands, “…and then I expect you downstairs shortly”.

-“Yes mom….” I resign myself bitterly.

-“…and be good for your sisters, Francois or else!” mom warned, “…don’t forget to empty and wash your chamber-pot…”.

-Oh yes mom, don’t worry, he will!” Tina merrily replies, turning towards Francois with derision, “Arms up Francois, hurry up now!” she commands.

-“There’s a good baby now” as she pulls up the nightie, removing it completely and placing it in the laundry basket, “march to the bathroom….”

I stood before my pompous young sister, totally nude, amidst her snigger and malevolent grin, as I tried my best to cover up. She grabbed my hand and led me to the bathroom, glancing at me and laughing; and gloating at her take charge attitude and dominance of me, her older brother. Bea awaited us, her eyes bulged, her hand over her mouth, as she burst out in belittling laughter. I was so humiliated and quickly entered the bath, almost disappearing in the massive amount of suds, bubbles and
foam. Mom meanwhile, took the soiled bedclothes off to the laundry room downstairs.

-“Sit down Francois…!” Tina ordered, “it’s time to get you all nice and clean for your day” she chided sweetly, “…in bed of course!.”

-“…oh thought we forgot?....” she sneered.

Tina opened a bottle of baby shampoo and emptied it over my head as Bea started scrubbing my face, neck and hair with a wet flannel giggling and laughing, creating  bubbles and foam, as I struggled to breathe, spewing soapy suds all over; and despite my apparent annoyance; Bea kept scrubbing and washing, as Tina sang mockingly;

Big Baby Francois forced into the tub…
All covered up with suds to get him clean
Well that’s what you get baby…
For being so mean….

You teased your sweet sisters one last time…
Now we will make you pay for your crime…
We’ll wash and scrub you with gobs of soap and bubbles…
So you learn to behave and stay out of trouble…”

-“Oh do make sure you get behind those ears, Bea. They look dirty to me!” Tina sniggered.

-“They sure do! Stop fussing Francois; my fussy wickle baby you are!”

-“Dirty baby, dirty, dirty, dirty….tsk,tsk,tsk!...”

They scrubbed and scrubbed, paying intimate attention to every detail of my body which was most humiliating, and especially when I had to stand as Tina washed my privates ever so gently, despite being totally covered in shampoo, soap and suds. Beatrice seemed pleased to treat me with contempt, remembering every time I teased, provoked, or antagonised her, although most of the time, she instigated the trouble. I hated every minute of this belittling bath treatment, and finally after much soapy bubbles, rinsing, scrubbing, slapping and condescension, I was rinsed thoroughly and helped out of the tub; grabbing the large soft, fluffy pink towels, the girls gingerly fried me off thoroughly, singing the phrases of Tina’s poem over and over, and leaving a towel wrapped about my waist.

-“Time to get dressed Francois” Tina said as I was led back to my bedroom.

-“All nice and clean Francois?” mom laughed, I said nothing.

-“The girls will get you dressed and you may come downstairs for breakfast” mom casually stated.

I looked towards the bed and there was a fresh nightie, even shorter than the black one I had worn and I grumbled and whined, then sobbed…

-“Bu…u…t…er…uh…mom? …not again…not that??”
-“I already told you Francois!”

-“Can I get dressed please?” I murmured.

-“…but in regular clothes,  please??” I pleaded callously.

-“…this will look so pretty on you Francois!” she sweetly bellows, “…now let your sisters dress you”.

-“This nightie is just perfect for a big baby like you Francois, don’t you think…” Tina proudly affirms, “…oh how delicately sweet…hahaha”.

-“I’ll see you downstairs!” mom said, “and behave for your sisters Francois”.

-“but why?..why??”  I whine.

-“ make you behave!” Bea scoffs, “…and because we want you too…”

-“…besides you’re going back to bed after breakfast…” Tina scoffs.

-“..did you forget Francois? She jeers, “…well we didn’t…”

-“…arms up; now big brother!” Tina shouted with glee.

Tina lowered the nightie onto my shoulders. This one was also made of nylon, with puffy sleeves, lace frills, pink and blue ribbons and was pale yellow in color. She fussed with the garment, smoothing it all around, giggling and deriding me, to the point of annoyance. Bea stood back glaring at me with her evil grin, nodding her head, heckling me, enjoying my dislike of their ridicule and mockery; with intense interest, obviously enjoying my shame.

-“Do you like your new night-gown Francois?” Tina inquires ironically.

-“It’s too girlish….” I snap back, “I hate it….”

-“…well I think it’s sweet and babyish”… she purrs.

-“…and too short! I proclaim with hostility.

-“Of course it is snookums!” Tina purrs, “…now sit down, so I can help you with the matching panties. We can’t have you walking around with your thingie showing now, can we??” she jeers, as she stretches the delicate garment in front of me.

Once she draws them up to my knees, she makes me stand and pulls them up over my behind, as I stand there looking upward, to avoid their ridicule and malicious grins, as Bea holds up the garment, so Tina can adjust the waistband properly.

-“Haha, Look Tina, you can see right through it!....hahahaha”  Bea shouts as she bursts into a fit of annoying laughter, “…and his little thingy is sticking out too, how very naughty” she ridicules him.

-“Yes it is teeny, isn’t it now?” Tina jeered, “…but he is a baby Bea!”.

-“…oh yes, a big baby…” Bea guffaws.

-“…well his night-gown is properly babyish, don’t you think??” Tina coos.

-“…and, oh so delightful…” she jeers.

As I stood before both little sniggering debutantes, they admired the fit, deriving immense pleasure at the sight of their older brother wearing a babyish nightie against his will, looking ridiculous, and opposed in abject humiliation and shame. Tina stepped forward and pushed me back on the bed, “you need some slippers Francois!”

-“Will these do Tina?” Bea asks, holding up a pair of yellow fuzzy slippers; as Tina nods gleefully.

-“There now, baby is all dressed!” Tina sighs.

-“I would prefer my regular clothes, please??” I banter; at the risk of being chastised and reported to mom, but both girls simply dismiss my retort.

-“…downstairs Francois” Tina sneers, “…besides this is what mom wants…”

-“…and so do we!” shouts Beatrice in agreement.

I proceed downstairs, annoyed, ashamed, and very opposed, by a cross look on my face, in a babyish and girly baby-doll nightie to the delight of Beatrice and Tina dressed in their regular street clothes. I was sulking bitterly, despite my shame; in retrospect, my sisters faces were aglow, basking in delight. Once downstairs, we head towards the kitchen, where a surprise awaited me…

I stop suddenly, amidst a flurry of shrill laughter, mockery and ridicule, inclined to quickly turn around and leave, and as I did so, Tina blocked my path.

-“The kitchen is behind you Francois” She smirked.

-“Please, oh no, don’t them, uh…er…see me oh please!” I sobbed.

-“Of course they will see you” Tina scoffs.

-“…and just like you are, you big baby” Bea scolds.

-“…so turn around and march!” Tina ordered derisively.

I wailed in protest, and begged for my modesty, which only led to more ridicule, as Bea pulled me by the hand, dragging me into the kitchen, and in front of mom and her “special guests”. At the table sat Janessa, our next door neighbour with her daughters, Megan (8) and Abbey (9), who had their mouths covered with their hand, giggling, whispering and sniggering aloud. Tina was behind me, holding my arms at my sides, to disallow me any false modesty as Bea, still holding my hand, introduced me as their brash and insolent baby brother, my face as red as a tomato…

-“…may I introduce baby Francois, ladies” she guffawed.

-“Well hello Francois; oh how very sweet….”Janessa cooed sweetly and with derision, “…oh such a pretty frock!”

-“…he’s being punished…” Bea adds ironically.

-“Oh look mom, the grumpy meanie is wearing a short nightie! Hahahaha” Megan scoffs at me with derision, “Is he a girl??”.

-“…not so tough are you?...” Abby laughs derisively, “…you big bully!”

-“…but a bully wearing a very pretty nightie!” Megan adds sarcastically.

As I stood before my tormentors with shame, I also felt anger for being exposed like this, in front of little girls, who at all times accused me for taunting and provoking them; while in retrospect, they were the instigators. I of course, was held responsible since I am the eldest and should know better; and now, these pestilent deceitful gamines, sit before me with taunts, ridicule and malice without retribution from their mom. I stomp my foot in protest, sporting a cross face at their derision of me…

-“…tee-hee. Looks someone woke up cranky….”Abbey scoffs.

-“..oh, it’s just a baby tantrum Abbey, pay no attention…” Megan coos.

-“Sit down Francois, I’ll get your breakfast!” mom ordered sternly. Tina and Beatrice at that point sat down at their respective places. I looked around, and there was not any place for me, except…

“Yes Francois, you will sit in this chair, so you won’t disturb our guests” mom demanded.

It was a booster seat for an older child that was placed on a regular chair and right next to Megan, but back from the table. Mom then pushed my chair up to the table, and I was now the focal point, as I sat higher than everyone else, drawing everyone’s attention…

-“I hope you like our old booster chair Francois…” Megan scoffed, “I used it until I was 3….”

With all eyes upon me, I just stared down onto the tray, squirming in shame.

-“So Francois, why are you wearing such a pretty nightie?” Janessa inquired.

-“uh…er…mom made me….” I mumble.

-“I see, well it looks sweet on you regardless….’ Janessa cooed sweetly, despite the ironic giggles of her daughters, and mom’s interjection.

-“…to make him behave” mom interjects, “…now sit and eat”.

No more was said for the moment, except for giggles, gestures and jeers from four young girls as mom placed my breakfast before me, a look of dismay on my part, let everyone know I was unhappy with it. Both moms and Tina had coffee, my favourite and other girls had either hot cocoa or milk, with apple juice, bacon and eggs, potatoes, pastries, fresh fruit and yogurt.  In retrospect, I had a bowl of steaming baby oatmeal and devoid of fruit, and a spoon on my tray. The acrid scent reached my nose, and I turned away in disgust and disapproval, to the amusement of our guests and my sisters. Sensing my displeasure, Bea blurted out:

-“Oh my, Francois doesn’t like his breakfast then?” Bea mocked.

-“Perhaps you would like some coffee? Janessa cooed, “…only babies don’t have coffee, do they girls?”

-“Oh no mom….” Megan and Abby giggled.

-“Really now Francois!... mom scolded ironically, “…baby oatmeal is just right for my big growing baby” mom jeered, “…but no sugar or fruit…”

-“UGH!...I’m glad I don’t have to eat that” Bea dissents with a sneer.

-“…oh, but he does” Tina jeers, “….and all of it too!”

-”Perhaps Megan would like to feed you eh Francois??....” Bea coos mockingly and in a matronly manner. (all laugh)

-“Er…uh…I can feed myself, thank you….”

-“Oh how cheeky!” I think that is a great idea, don’t you, Megan?”

-“Oh yesss!...I would love to….” Megan hissed excitedly, “…does baby have a bib?”

-“Please mom, I can’t eat this…and no sugar?? (groan)…”

-“Don’t be surly Francois! mom scolds, “...besides sugar would only make you too energetic and would delay your baby nap Francois…”

Ignoring my useless pleas and childish wailing, mom passed the baby’s bib to Megan, who stood up and secured it around my neck; the same one that Isa and Chris made for me, decorated in colourful letters, “I’M A BIG BABY”, which of course made everyone comment, laugh and make fun of…

-“You should be ashamed Francois, really; for acting like a big baby in front of all these little girls” Janessa coos ironically, “I know I would be!”

-“He’s a big cheeky baby…” Beatrice admonishes, “…and one that needs a good and long nap shortly!...”

-“There now, now let’s get you fed, before you have another baby tantrum…” Megan bellowed.

She picked up the large spoon and standing before me, tried to shove in the first heaping spoonful, as I turn away, and now I understood why they made me sit in the booster seat, for young Abbey was just the right height to feed me and stare straight at me; that was extremely humiliating..

-“You had better cooperate, Francois!” Mom warns, “I will not put up with any tantrums at the table!”

-“Tickle his throat dear!” Janessa states softly with a grin.

I cringe at the thought of being force-fed by a young gamine, half my age, and unjustly, but Megan is quick and smart…

-“Open wide now, Francois!” Megan sweetly whispers, as she tickles my throat, and shoves in the first heaping spoonful of baby cereal. I choke a bit, as she holds her hand over my mouth, forcing me to swallow. It is very pasty and tasteless.

-“Very good Megan! Bravo!!....” yells Beatrice. “…isn’t this fun??” noticing my cross expression, “…well it is for us Francois!” (all laugh)

-“You are doing so well Megan” mom proudly states, turning to everyone at the table,“…she feeds our 4 year old nephew every time he comes over”.

Despite the mockeries and ridicule of the overjoyed and exuberant moms and little girls, Megan keeps shoving in the horrid baby-food, spoonful after disgusting spoonful. If I hesitate or don’t swallow right away, then Megan tickles my throat and down it goes. She is unrelenting, demanding and strict …

I feel so humiliated, but I have no choice, but to be force-fed this revolting and disgusting baby food by Megan, while at the same time I am  being denied this delicious breakfast. Everyone is satisfied with little Megan, who belittles me in every way possible, especially talking baby-talk in sweet syrupy tones that annoy me the most.

-“…just a wittle bit more Francois, open wide now, wider baby, hahaha” Megan coos.

Finally, the baby cereal was finished, and I felt full, nauseous and displeased, for I craved a cup of hot coffee the most. I started to reach for a cup that was nearby, and Megan slapped my wrist.

-“No, no baby Francois! She scolded, “…no coffee for baby!” (all laugh)

Mom meanwhile prepared a drink for me and brought it over, placing it on the tray. It is presented in a toddler style sippy cup to prevent any spills; and mom sprinkles some of the liquid onto her wrist, nodding her head and commenting: “ah, just right!” and handing it off to Megan, who forced it into my mouth.

-“Finish your baba now Francois” she coos, “…all of it…”.

-“Baby formula is so good for you!” Tina scoffs.

-“Oh it is, even if for a big older baby!” Beatrice adds patronisingly.

-“So what is everyone doing today?” mom asked.

-“We are going to the amusement park today”, shouted Abbey, “…and we will go swimming after lunch, then mom is taking us to dinner tonight”.

-“Sounds exciting Abbey” turning to Janessa, mom asks, “I take it; you will be out very late then??”

-“Probably well after midnight” Janessa replied, “…and right after breakfast, we need to get ready for a long, long day of fun!”

My surliness gains mom’s attention, as I empty the cup grimacing in an opposing manner.

-“It seems you are asking in your own baby tantrum way for some more formula Francois!” mom scolds, as I shake my head. She gets up and prepares another, while the conversation continues…

-“We are going swimming too, only this morning!” Beatrice bellowed enthusiastically, “…and then we will return for lunch and get ready for mom’s bridge club, a delicious dinner and an evening of fun with friends!”

In front of everyone, mom unscrewed the top of the cup and added several blue pills, before closing it and handing it to Megan.

-“What’s that?” Megan asks curiously.

-“oh, just some sleep sedative, to help baby nap, since he is so cranky….” Mom scoffs.

-“Are you sure that is enough mom? Bea jeers, “…we can’t have him waking up for quite awhile, or otherwise he will have another baby tantrum…”

-“Don’t worry Bea, this will do the trick…” mom purrs. (all laugh)

-“And what will you be doing today Francois??” Janessa inquired curiously. I tried to respond but Megan held the bottle tightly in my mouth; taking the queue from her, Beatrice stood up and stood behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders, and looking at me from the side condescendingly.

-“He’s going to bed” she happily retorted, “…and right after breakfast too, isn’t that right Francois??” I tried to protest, but Bea tickled my throat, as I swallowed every punishing drop of the insipid formula, “…that’s his long, long day of fun….”

-“Goodness, what has he done?” Janessa exclaims in wonderment, winking at Beatrice.

-“Well yesterday, mom put him to bed before we left for lunch at Isabelle’s cottage, and when we returned, he was STILL awake….” Beatrice grins, with a deliberate and devious disposition.

-“Oh I see” Janessa replies, but curious, “…so why was he put to bed?”

-“I put him to bed to prevent him from hanging out with his mischievous friends and acting cranky at lunch with the girls” mom explains thoroughly, “ …besides Janine and Sonia told me at lunch Sunday of the benefits they receive from implementing this same regimen on Alain and Luc”.

-“So he wasn’t punished then??....”

-“No, only after we returned” mom replied, “Bea can tell you what happened…”

-“Well, because he was awake and not asleep, he quarrelled and provoked us, so we told mom…” Bea softly cooed, with shrewdness, “…if he was asleep, he might have been allowed up….” She added, whispering in her brother’s ear, “and we didn’t want you to either!”

-“Oh, I see now Beatrice.” Janessa replies, nodding in agreement, “…so if he obeyed…., but he didn’t, so what did your mom do?”

-“He had to go straight to sleep after a snack!” she replied with satisfaction.

-“…a wise choice, good for him then….” Janessa concurs.

-“It was 2:00 pm, and when he was told…, he got cranky…” she stated cheerfully; then sighing with immense pleasure, she smirked at me, “…then cried and wailed like a baby because he wanted to get up instead…”!”

-“I see, well for having a tantrum, he certainly deserved it then!” Janessa affirmed.

-“Oh yes he did!” Bea continues mockingly, “that’s what bad babies get when they misbehave…” she said, looking at me with a mischievous smirk.

-“…a good long time in bed…” adds Tina with a snigger.

-“So why will Francois be going to bed after breakfast today then?” Janessa asks curiously.

- “My bridge club will be arriving at around 2:00 pm today , well  before tea, and I decided to put him to bed to prevent any crankiness with the girls and my guests”. Mom replies, “…better to avoid a problem, than to correct…”

-“But it is early morning yet!”

-“Well, he was still very cranky when he awoke this morning” mom explains, “…and in bed, he won’t be able to torment the girls anymore today”.

-“Oh I see, in that case, I suggest you put him to bed very, very soon then”, she shook her head disgustingly, and looking cross at me, “…and not for just a nap either I hope!”

-“Oh no, of course not…!” mom scoffed, ”…all day in bed!”

-“So he is punished?”

-“Yes he most certainly is!” mom explains. “I cannot risk having him be troublesome and disruptive to both Beatrice and Tina, so he will be put to bed to lessen the chance and allow the girls to have peace…”

-“I won’t oppose that!”  Bea shouts amused.

-“What about tea?...dinner?”

-“A sippy cup of sweet dreams herbal tea and some mashed potatoes and apples perhaps…” mom replies.

-“Is that the new tea that contains chamomile tea and hibiscus flowers??”

-“Yes, I heard it is very effective to help one fall asleep fast and stay asleep peacefully….” Mom replies, as both girls carry on.

-“…like Luc and Alain, he should go to bed whenever he misbehaves mom” states Tina with a sneer.

-“Then it would be very quiet around here” Bea retorts with laughter, ”…since he would be in bed most of the time…”

-“…that sounds heavenly...” Tina confirmed.

-“…it seems Francois has been a big bully lately, doing foolish things and teasing young girls…” she stated sternly, “…perhaps this will teach him a lesson!”

-“I doubt it; older boys are stupid and foolish mom!” Tina added,…”he’ll never learn, will you poppet??...”

-“…so then he should be in bed by day for a good and long time yet …”  Bea sneers.

-“I hope so….” Tina leers, “then we can have peace at last!...”

-“…serves him right, the big bully!...” sneered Megan.

-“…besides, it is beneficial for him” mom adds happily.

-“…and for us too!” shouts Beatrice.

-“Aw, It seems Francois doesn’t think so…” Tina jeers.

- “…but we all do!” shout Beatrice, Megan and Abbey in unison.

-“What Francois thinks doesn’t matter” mom interjects sternly, “From now on in my house, he will go straight to bed whenever I say, whatever time, and no matter what”. Mom scoffs, “and that’s that…”.

As I finish the sippy cup of insipid warm baby formula, the taste left in my mouth was so horrid, that I look very cross at the four very devious young debutantes with scorn; after all, they are the holy terrors that instigated the quarrels, in which I was always held responsible, and now I will be punished to bed from this point on. I was devastated to think that mom would act on this most effective form of punishment; I was hoping it would never happen again. Unjustly so, they looked back at me with a united stand of confirmed authority, and purring sweet smiles of pure delight, for at least my sisters already knew that mom’s opinion was final and could not be changed. Beatrice, my 8 year old sister, benefited the most, since she consistently, without malice, and very cunningly provoked me into a quarrel, resulting in my demise. Now my sisters, along with the neighbours, so convinced mom that with a regular regimen of bed punishment, behind a locked bedroom door, in gloomy pitch-black darkness, I could be relinquished to sleep, without any concern or sympathy, so they could enjoy quiet mealtimes, friends, visitors and relatives, go out or converse in subdued silence for as long as I was bed confined….

The girls sneered, giggled and whispered amongst themselves; without any remorse or concern at all for me, completely detached from the fact that they were the guilty culprits, not me. The prim and youthful debutante seemed to sigh with an immense pleasure, faces aglow with fawning radiance, and yet exuding their haughtiness as mom spoke the words that they so longed to hear:

-“…aside from that…” mom decrees sedately. “…it’s bedtime for you Francois…” mom states calmly, “It is best for you to get some rest; and best for us, since you will be upstairs in bed and unable to cause any trouble!” mom adds, standing up. “Besides, Janessa and I have dishes to do before she goes”.

-“…oh noon, no, no, no, please, don’t…no, no, no…” I scream in defiance.

-“…yes, yes, yes…beddy-byes for my older brother…!” Tina sneers.

-“Oh my, what a baby tantrum” an astonished Janessa declares.

-“Mom, can I put him to bed please??...” Beatrice pleads ever so eagerly, “…since he is always so cheeky to me…”

-“Of course”, she replies. “…let’s see how this big bully likes to have a girl half his age put him to bed like a big baby”.

-“Oh goody! Bea shouts delightedly, “it’s bye-byes time for you Francois!”

-“My, he seems quite upset by all of this” Janessa exclaims.

-“Ah, who would have thought that putting him to bed early, was the most effective but simplest means to gain peace and quiet for everyone?” mom sighs in awe.

-“…and I hope it’s not the last time either mom!”…” Tina sneers, looking at me contemptuously, fluttering her eyelashes like a stuck-up debutante.

-“Don’t worry about that dear, I’m sure it won’t….” mom adds smiling.

Megan withdraws the empty sippy cup, as Beatrice removes the tray, making me stand up and she turns me to face everyone. I then start to turn around, but then…

-“No Francois, not yet!” Beatrice scolds, “You didn’t excuse yourself properly and wish night-night to everyone!” she ridicules.

-“Good night everyone!” I replied sedately, and yawning a lot.

-“Oh-oh look who is over-tired and yawning then…” Tina observes.

-“…tsk. tsk, now can everyone see why you have to go to bed” Bea sighs disgustedly, “…that was like so, so cheeky Francois!” Beatrice scolds,”…now march!”

-“Do as your sister tells….mom commands, “…you are wasting time…”

-“Can we help Beatrice??”….Abbey asks enthusiastically.

-“Oh yes, he won’t like that one bit!...” she scoffs, “…he dislikes us girls, you know, so all the better!”.

-“Oh boy, this will be fun” Megan screams.

-“March upstairs” Bea ordered.

I left the room, with my head hung low with shame; amidst the cynical laughter, joyous applause and ridicule, taken by the hand of my 8 year old overbearing stuck-up snob of a little sister. The noise in the kitchen simmered down, as we went upstairs, followed eagerly by Megan and Abbey who were only too willing to seek out retribution against me.

-“Please call me when he’s in bed Bea” mom shouts from the kitchen, “I’ll come upstairs to wish him night-nigh, and don’t forget his chamber-pot!”

-“Gladly mom!” she replied with a snicker.

-“The sooner, the better…” Tina sneered, as she left the table to get ready to go outside, “…he is just so whiny”.

-“I don’t deserve this, I don’t want to….” I wail in disagreement.

-“You do, and you will!” was all bossy Bea said chuckling.

As we reach the top of the stairs, to my impending doom, the mockeries of the young girls from next door still echo through my ears.

-“Hurry up Francois. We need to get ready to go swimming, you know!” Abbey explains, “only you can’t go, know why??...” she pauses waiting for a response, then, “…it’s bedtime for cranky older boys like you!”

-“Don’t dilly-dally Francois!...You heard…” Megan chides sarcastically,“…it’s beddies for you now…”

-“That means no more picking on us young girls!” Abbey adds derisively.

-“…that’s right” Megan sneers, “it's sleep-time, not provoke little girls time”.


Tina helped mom and Janessa clean up the breakfast dishes and prepare for her day; one in which she will be with her friends and return home by dinnertime. Her pesky older brother does not concern her anymore, if at all. She is too busy thinking about her life and it doesn’t include her older brother being a nuisance to her; and thankful therefore that he will be in bed all day as she discusses it with mom…

-“Mom, Isabelle and Christelle are much more in peace, now that Alain and Luc have a bedtime schedule. Perhaps Francois would benefit as well…” Tina suggests.

-“It certainly does work very effectively for them, doesn’t it? They certainly made that very clear at lunch yesterday” Mom replies in agreement, “Perhaps we should discuss this some more…” (Tina nods) “…and since Francois has been such a bully to both of you, and your friends….(she pauses), “…perhaps then it is right for us to decide together…”

-“Oh I am not opposed either” Janessa muses, “…he is always provoking my girls; so he should spend more time in bed to keep him behaved and out of the way” she accedes.

-“…such a novel idea!” mom nods as she sips her coffee.

-“We could start tomorrow!” Tina laughs enthusiastically, “…I’m not opposed to that mom!” (all laugh)

I can still hear the ironic and shrill laughter emanating from the kitchen as I enter my room of punishment; for it is my bedtime now, as decreed by mom and my sisters. Bea wastes no time to put me down, so she can be free to do as she pleases. Mom had previously changed the sheets, made the bed and fluffed the pillows, and I was already dressed for bed…

-“Sit Francois…” Bea ordered, removing my slippers, “…and into bed now, no talking or I’ll tell mom!” she sneers, “…and your chamber-pot is under your night-stand, don’t forget…”.

Both Abby and Megan are deeply amused to see the neighborhood bully belittled and bossed around by an 8 year old domineering debutante, without fear of reprisal, and taking immense pleasure in his comeuppance.

-“There you are all snug in your beddies; I’ll just tuck you in now!” Bea whispers sweetly, kissing me on the forehead, and in a snide comment: “…it’s beddy byes for you now, go to sleep”

Bea then turns away, lowering the shades and drawing the curtains tightly, blocking out the beautiful sunlight, as I sob, snivel and fuss over my humiliating punishment, displaying a babyish tantrum, much to her delight…

-“Isn’t it ironic that you must go to bed now, while I will get ready for a good and long day of fun, pleasure and friends?...Bea jeered.

Megan and Abbey join her in ridiculing him.

-“must” is a for sure” Megan scoffs, “like in “a necessity in order to have peace”….”

-“if it works, I’m for it” shouts Abbey gleefully, “…so we can have fun…”

-“I don’t deserve to be in bed, and you know it…let me up, mom will understand, please??….”

-“I don’t think so crabby-kins” she retorts, “…it’s much better with you in bed as opposed to being cranky to us downstairs…”

-“Night-night…”  Abbey scoffs. “…even if it is only 9:00 am?”

-“…it’s just 8:30 am Abbey…” Bea replies, “…and fortunately for us, it’s going to be a long, long day yet”.

-“…and a very short one for Francois, Hahaha!” Abbey scoffs.

-“…have nice dreams Francois!” Megan affirms with a sneer, “…too bad you can’t stay up, but that’s your fault…”

-“I won’t have to be at all concerned about you now Francois…” Bea sighs with an upturned nose and acting like a snob, “…now be very quiet; mom will be up shortly to say goodnight!” Bea affirms and turns away for the last time with an ironic…”bye, bye”.

Abby and Megan leave first, laughing at me, in a scornful manner, as a delighted Beatrice closes, then locks the door; I can hear the footsteps of all three very happy little girls as they go back downstairs, making me the object of their ridicule and now the laughingstock of my sisters and her haughty friends, as they prepare for their long adventurous day. I can still hear their silly laughter downstairs; and then another set of footsteps are heard on the stairs approaching, and the door opens, with mom and Janessa entering my darkened room of punishment. Mom gingerly places a kiss on my forehead telling me;

-“Have a restful sleep Francois. I will be back by 11:15 am, with your lunch. The monitor is on now, so be very quiet” mom orders, “…we will be leaving for the swimming pool shortly”.

-“Sleep well Francois; it’s reassuring to know that you will be well secured in your beddy byes, so others can enjoy their day in peace”. Janessa scolds me, mockingly.

-“…and remember…” mom adds, “…if you disobey, you will spend more time in bed, so…”

Both ladies leave me in my pitch-black, gloomy room of confinement, devoid of a night-light,  reading materials, clothes and electronic games, by closing and locking the door, before heading back downstairs, to begin their day of fun with their daughters; those plagues, pestilent little brats and bossy domineering wretches….UGH I hate little girls!.

There is a great deal of activity emanating from downstairs now, as mom and Beatrice prepare to leave for the swimming pool, and Tina; who has already left to be with friends. Through the open window, I hear Megan and Abbey laughing loudly, as they leave with their mom for the day. The laughter, footsteps and voices from downstairs, cease with the closing of the outside door, letting me know, I am all alone now for awhile…

Outside, other are getting ready as well, to enjoy their day, either at home, leaving for the pool or visiting a friends perhaps; without concern about an older boy put to bed as punishment. I toss and turn, as it is so unfair to be lying down when you are restless, and active; although the sleep sedative is causing me to yawn, and grow weary, despite my best efforts to fight it. It is so unfair and annoying to be put to bed in the early morning, well before 9:00 am, while others, especially my young sisters are dressed, doing whatever they want, staying up as late as they want, while I must sleep…

Somehow I eventually doze off, but every now and then, I hear the activities outside, and catch a glimpse of sunshine breaking through the curtains; making me feel very angry, ashamed and bored; very, very bored!...

I was startled as the door opened and in walked Beatrice, and a friend of hers, Aurelie. This 8 year old minx was another of Beatrice’s accomplices that so often provoked me. I was so ashamed to see her enter the room, but said nothing for fear they would tell mom I was disobedient to them, and kept staring at the wall. Bea turned on the nightstand lamp, but left the curtains tightly closed. I turned at that point, with a look of discontent, as she added:

-“Aw is baby disappointed?” she jeered.

-“Can I get up….” I mumbled.

-“Mom said no, so I won’t open your curtains” she retorted, “…besides it’s beddies shortly, well for you anyway”.

-“Lunch-time Francois now; sit-up…” she sneered.

-“See how nice Bea is to you Francois?” Aurelie teased me laughingly, “…and yet, you are so nasty to her…tsk, tsk, tsk…!”

-“Well, if you were as nice to us, as we are to you; then you would be up and about, dressed in regular clothes too, instead of being in bed, in a nightie as punishment!” Bea scoffed.

-“…but I like him much better this way, Bea…” Aurelie sneers.

-“I do too, but….” Bea replies, “…even more if he was asleep already…”

Bea placed a bib around my neck as Aurelie checked the temperature of the baby bottle containing formula; looking down at me, grinning contentedly. I did not want that horrid stuff again, and despite my best efforts, Bea pinched my nose and Aurelie gladly shoved the bottle in…

-“Finish it all quickly now Francois or I’ll tell mom; we have a very busy day after lunch, and I don’t want to spend any more time than I have to “baby-sitting” the likes of you, bully boy!” Bea scoffs.

-“…tee hee…” baby Francois is cross with us Bea!”

-“…too bad for him then, he is not allowed to be up anymore for today!”

-“Can you guess what our lunch is Francois??” Bea teases, “…mom bought subs for us, with salad, ice tea and some chocolate cake for dessert, doesn’t that sound scrumptious??”

-“Too bad you can’t have any…”Aurelie ridicules, “…too, too bad!”

-“…that’s because bad babies must go to sleep; right, Aurelie??” Bea scoffs.

-“oh, of course…” she shouts with joy.

Bea stood by laughing and looking at her watch, and once the bottle emptied;

-“Our lunch awaits us now Aurelie, let’s go now, baby needs his rest!...”

-“With pleasure!” she replies.

-“It’s bye-byes for you now Francois!” Bea whispers.

-“But don’t leave me here, I don…..”

-“ …oh, I almost forgot!” Bea sighed, “…we’ll be playing table tennis after lunch, so we hope we won’t keep you awake….”

-“Let me up…”

-“…better be quiet now…” she whispers holding her finger to her lips, “…the monitor is on…”

-“Sweet dreams” Aurelie scolds, “…you can envision of us playing and enjoying the day without the displeasure of having you around, pestering us!”

-“see you later for a snack…” Bea retorts, ”stay quiet or else…”

Beatrice turns off the lamp, joining Aurelie in a barrage of mockeries at me. Both stuck-up, ecstatic young snobs after lowering their dignity to bid me nighty-night, blow me a kiss, relinquishing me to the darkness and solitude of my bedroom, as they head out the door. I try and turn slightly, to reconcile with them, and hopefully be released from this unjust bed punishment, but it was already too, too late!...they had already closed the door, and all I could hear was their muffled giggling and jubilant laughter, along with the sound of the key being turned in the lock.

My intentional and unreasonable bedtime began at 11:33 am; marking the end of my day; while in retrospect, the day is just beginning for everyone else!...

Outside of my room, both carefree gamines hurry back downstairs, aloof, and unsympathetic now that I am in bed, for the night; in fact they will tell everyone in the neighborhood about it too. In this way, they are more at ease to do, act and say what they want, without having me around to annoy, tease, provoke or just be in their presence. Still somehow, I can’t believe how these pernicious young governess’s have unfurled such power over me, always in mom’s favor and never having to worry about being punished themselves…

I slam my head back down into my pillow, crying, whining and pounding my pillow again, in anger, all in vain…for they were already downstairs, totally detached from my situation. My anger turned to shame and annoyance towards them for treating me so patronisingly, and then I became somewhat excited that these pestilent little gamines had attained so much authority over me, unsympathetic towards my feelings, as they tease, ridicule me, and share in my discipline, while I do nothing to stop them. Boredom set in next, as I realised I was deprived of all meals, of the freedom to do as I please, go outside, meet friends, watch TV or listen to music. My repetition was to lay in bed and sleep; the clear intent of my domineering captors.

I could hear the sounds of laughter, conversation and physical activity taking place in the kitchen as Beatrice and Aurelie were helping mom prepare for lunch. I could almost taste the food, salivating, only to be disappointed; for there was no lunch for me. A sudden knock at the door, interrupted their gaiety, and then I recognise a familiar voice; it’s my girlfriend joining them for lunch. She is probably asking about me, as that would account for the burst of laughter now. I am so outraged that I have to stay in bed, while my girlfriend is enjoying lunch downstairs, apparently insensitive and showing no concern for me tucked up in bed…

The voices became more subdued, as mom, Bea, Aurelie and my girlfriend settle down at the table; the sound of forks and plates clattering, teasing my thoughts, knowing that there is no place setting for me; and the delicious meal I was intentionally missing, having only filled up on nauseating baby formula.

I tried to doze, but every now and then, the sounds from outside of other children rushing home for lunch, cars driving by or shrill laughter keep me awake. The next thing I knew, I had slept through lunch, and Bea was playing table tennis with Aurelie on the patio below, while my girlfriend was talking with mom, numb with sympathy, enjoying herself immensely, while her attention is diverted to pleasant conversation. They discuss the bridge club meeting, and Paulette declined an invite. I felt a deep sense of emptiness, when she said that she was going to the movies and she even had a date; mom was happy for her. I never even heard the sound of the ping pong ball stopped. I stewed in anger and complained aloud forgetting about the monitor, when suddenly mom entered the room, followed by Bea. I was in for it now I thought!

-“What are you doing up Francois?” mom demanded.


-“You’re supposed to be asleep” she chided me,”…why are you awake??”

-“He’s probably mad, his girlfriend came over for lunch, mom!” Bea retorts.

-“uh…er, I wasn’t really…Paulette, will she see me??”

-“Yes she is here, and heard your baby tantrum over the monitor” mom declares solemnly.

-“I want to be with her….” I cry out in protest.

-“…and she will leave soon to prepare for her date…” mom added with a sneer.

-“Oh no, no…..”

-“Oh yes, yes” Bea teases, “...besides she has a life, unlike you….”

-“Anyway, that should not concern you Fran├žois” mom states sternly,” …you’re a big baby punished to bed and you need your rest…”


-“…your being punished, that’s why….” Mom diligently snaps back.

-“…and it seems you will not fall asleep as you have been told…” mom adds, “…so I will give you something to make you sleep…”.

-“…turn over right now” mom ordered, as she pulled back my bedcovers, lowering my panties, and asking Bea for baby’s medicine.

-“Bea dear, hand me the suppositories” mom requests sweetly.

-“Of course mother dear” Bea replies demurely,”…but shouldn’t he have at least two of them, other wise he’ll wake up again soon…”

-“…well we’ll try one for now…” mom laughs.

-“…very soon; it’s sleepy byes for Francois, and peace and quiet for us!” Bea sang joyfully.

-“That’s right Bea”, mom snickers, “he needs to learn that when I tell him to sleep, that is what he shall do, and this medication will help…”

Mom inserted the suppository and smacked my bottom a dozen times to remind me what happens when I stay up, instead of going to sleep as I have been told…I was annoyed at Bea, for her little song and her continuing mockery was taking a toll on my nerves…Then Bea walked over and inserted the earplugs.

-“Francois is naughty
  And he won’t go to sleep
             So mom gave him some medicine
             After we’d better not hear a peep
             So from now on do as you’re told
             Or you’ll get a smack-smack on your bot-bot
             And more time in bed for being bold…”

-“Just a little something, so you can’t hear us play outside, and so you will fall asleep undisturbed” Bea scoffs.

-“night night then baby” she jeers.

-“Now the little girls can play peacefully downstairs…” mom scolded me,”…with you upstairs asleep in bed…”

-“but please, let me up…I will be good, I promise….”

-“..yes you will” Bea retorts, “…after you fall asleep….”

-“…any more noise, and you will forfeit your snack…” mom warns.

-“…night night” mom said, sleep well…”

I could barely make out what was being said, despite the echoing and ringing in my ears now. They left the room, closing and locking the door; heading back downstairs. Shortly after, Bea resumed her table tennis game with her friends, but I was not able to hear, despite the continuous pinging of the ball against the table, their intense laughter and yelling. I managed to doze off shortly after, much to the satisfaction of the neighbourhood guests and Bea, who had the receiver with her. Now they could play undisturbed…

Despite the suppository, I awoke quite cranky some time later, and tried my best to hear what was going on outside as well as downstairs It must have been tea-time or close to, or so I thought, and forgot that the monitor was on. In actuality, it was about 2:15 pm. The laughter was very loud from the cacophony of female laughter and voices on the patio below. I imagined that somehow my girlfriend was still there, along with several of mom’s friends and their daughters too; then I thought I heard mom’s voice. She reminded everyone that dinner would be served at
7:00 pm. My thoughts turned to anger as I was not allowed up, I couldn’t hear well, except for the continuous ringing in my ears, I wasn’t allowed to see my girlfriend; and forgetting my earplugs for an instant, I began to complain loudly, whine and cry. Suddenly the door opened, and I was startled and caught…

-“You were told to sleep Francois!” an annoyed Tina bellowed, with hands on her hips and scolding me, “I knew you would fight sleep, but enough is enough”.

-“oh he’s probably upset that Paulette is downstairs…” Bea retorts.

-“Oh, can I see her?...I must see her….I must…” I wail in abject protest of my situation.

-“…but she would not want to disturb your sleep..” Tina scoffs back.

-“…so we will make sure you go to sleep straight away” Tina jeers as she pinches my nose and gave me several sleeping pills and then a sippee cup containing a medicated herbal tea…

-“...and this is all you get now, for raising such a fuss….”Tina scolds.

-“…and throwing such a baby tantrum….” Bea adds sarcastically.

Upon emptying the cup shortly after, Tina grins condescendingly at me…

-“…bu…bu…but Paulette?...” I grumble.

-“She isn’t staying anyway, she has other plans this evening…” Tina jeers, “…besides, you already knew that…”

-“Bea, it’s time to make Francois quiet, don’t you think?”

-“…of course! Bea gloats, “this will end anymore baby chatter…” as she forces a baby pacifier in my mouth and secures it behind my head.

-“Now you will sleep sound, or else….” Tina scolds again.

-“…and mom says no dinner now” Tina scoffs, “…so sleep, sleep, sleep….”

-“…and no more noise…” Bea adds mockingly, “we will have dinner in
several hours, and mom won’t tolerate you staying awake..”.

-“beddy byes for you” Tina adds before closing and locking the door once again. They both giggle and laugh as they head back downstairs, satisfied in their total condescension of me…

Hours later, Near Tea-Time…
The bedroom door suddenly opened, and I awoke with a startle, my hazy eyes unable to focus in the dreary atmosphere of my dark bedroom, as I lay facing the wall. The lamp on the bedside stand was turned on and I recognise the voice of Patricia, Luc’s girlfriend.

-“I can’t believe it! Patricia shouts in amusement, “It’s true then”.

-“Yes, it’s true!” my mom replied.

-“How??, why?...” Patricia exclaimed.

-“Well yesterday I put him to bed before we left for Janine’s for lunch, then he spent the rest of the day in bed for lying to me, and provoking his little sisters upon our return”. Mom replied adding, “Today I put him to bed as a preventive measure to ensure he wasn’t downstairs acting cranky with his sisters and my guests at our bridge club meeting”.

-“Well it certainly is much better this way; everyone having fun and enjoying themselves, without a cranky older boy around” she joyously proclaims, “I would have never believed it, if I didn’t see it…”

-“What Patricia?” mom inquired.

-“That the biggest bully in the neighbourhood is in bed as punishment. He always bragged that it could never happen to him and that Alain and Luc were “weak” to let it happen to them. I guess he deserves it!” Patricia scoffs.

-“Well, it’s 3:07 pm and time for some tea and dessert” mom whispers, “it’s better not to wake him, we need peace…”

-“No tea or dinner for Francois?” Patricia inquisitively asks.

-“…no, he is sound asleep now …” mom scoffs, “...he’s punished so his dinner was forfeited already anyway…”

-“Well done!” Patricia scoffs.

Both of them proceed to leave, with mom closing and locking the door behind them, as they scurry back downstairs and outside to the patio to join her guests, their daughters and her friends for tea, followed by bridge and then a late evening dinner. Paulette had already left with her “date”, while I was sound asleep. As the footsteps and laughter diminished from my “visits”, I face the wall, partially awake, with a baby’s pacifier to silence me and earplugs to prevent me from listening to those in the real world having fun, dismayed that Luc and Alain would find out about me from Patricia; but sleep took over shortly after, and I slept sound through their bridge game, and dinner. It must have been near midnight, before the game ended, as it was dark out now, although I could still hear girlish laughter outside my window, but as for me, my day ended this morning, and I fell asleep peacefully until the next morning.

Two sisters ensure their brother is kept under control by his strict Nanny

Charlotte and Jane sat beside the glowing log fire adding the finishing touches to the presents around the Christmas tree. ‘Do you think he will appreciate it?’ asked Jane. ‘I doubt it,’ giggled Charlotte, ‘but I am looking forward to seeing his reaction.’ The sisters paused from their task to chink glasses. What a year it had been…

This time last year the family firm was heading for disaster under the mismanagement of their younger brother, Leslie. Goodness knows what their late father had been thinking leaving the business in his hands. He was far too young and immature to bear such a responsibility. In a short space of time the ‘Little Dictator’ as he was known, had upset the entire workforce. In fact they had come to the conclusion that it was his lack of stature, he was only just over five-foot tall, which had contributed to his unreasonable behaviour. The company was on the brink of bankruptcy; something definitely had to be done.

Being somewhat older than Leslie they had seen his peculiar behaviour as a child and had Nanny’s confirmation of their suspicions. They knew about his little predilection.

His treatment of Nanny had been the final straw.  Perhaps it was because of what she knew that Leslie had ordered her out of the grace-and-favour rooms Father had allocated her, in gratitude for years of loyal service, first as housekeeper, then as Leslie’s Nanny.

It had not been too difficult getting Nanny to let them utilise the photographs she had in her possession. Leslie was ‘persuaded’ to re-consider his position at the firm. Charlotte and Jane refilled their glasses and raised them once again.

Upstairs, Nanny was busy. ‘Come along pet lamb, it’s time for your bath, I want you to be in beddy-byes before Santa comes’ She lifted up Leslie’s arms and removed the velvet, short-sleeved lemon dress. It was one of Nanny’s favourites; trimmed with white eyelet trim, it had a neat, high neck ruffled collar, and ties in the back. Next she removed the soft chiffon ruffled slip, took the lemon ribbon hair bow out of Leslie’s hair, and slipped off the white eyelet-trimmed socks.

‘Didn’t you look pretty today, Nanny's little baby lamb?’ she cooed as she gently helped Leslie into the bath. Leslie stared back at her with rather empty, emotionless eyes but nevertheless replied in the manner Nanny required: ‘Yes, I was ever so pwetty Nanny.’

Nanny took her time bathing Leslie, not least because she knew how much her little charge hated the humiliation of being bathed by her. She smothered Leslie in the scented suds, and ensured that his smooth hairless body was scrubbed thoroughly clean.

In the nursery, Nanny's rule was absolute; woe betides Leslie if there was the slightest sign of misbehaviour or disobedience. Nanny began to towel Leslie dry.

‘Ouch you're hurting.’ Leslie flashed a worried glance at Nanny. The words had just slipped out. Nanny paused for a second. ‘Now - time for Baby Leslie to put a cosy nightie on,’ she said, wagging her finger at him.

Leslie looked even more flustered; being called 'Baby Leslie' by Nanny was worrying, what could she mean? Nanny slipped the nightdress over Leslie’s head. Leslie quite liked the sensation of the soft winceyette material next to his freshly bathed skin, but the little pink rosebud flowers that adorned the nightie were a different matter.

Leslie used to enjoy dressing up in pretty dresses for a few hours a week, but he had never wanted his ‘hobby’ to become permanent. He hated having to wear girlish nighties and pyjamas and being put to bed ridiculously early, as if he were a real little girl.

Nanny buttoned up the nightie, and smoothed down the Peter Pan collar. ‘Pretty as a picture my pet lamb. Lets get your hair brushed now.’ Leslie enjoyed the feeling of Nanny’s hand following each stroke of the brush, and wished it would never end, but Nanny stopped abruptly, and turned Leslie to face her.

‘Did you think I had forgotten your little outburst? Nanny’s got just the punishment for little babies like you.’ Leslie’s face flushed as Nanny lifted the nightdress and smacked the back of Leslie’s legs.

‘Come along now little lamb, it's nappy time for you, Babykins.’ Leslie was horrified as Nanny pinned on thick, white fluffy nappies and pulled on pink plastic baby pants that rustled noisily as Nanny positioned them snugly on top of Leslie’s nappies. Nanny stood a tearful Leslie up, and the nightie cascaded to the floor in a cloud of winceyette.

‘Nanny hasn’t finished yet Babykins, now open wide.’ Nanny popped the pink dummy into the mouth of the astonished Leslie. ‘If that comes out without my permission it’s a spanking for you Babykins,’ she warned. ‘And this is the finishing touch.’ Nanny deftly placed a flounced, be-ribboned mop-sleeping cap on Leslie’s head; being made from the same floral winceyette, it matched Leslie’s nightie perfectly.

Nanny stood Leslie in front of the mirror. ‘See what you’ve become Leslie, a little baby in nappies and a nightie, sucking on its dum-dum, and wearing a bedtime nightcap. Nanny is the one in charge now, so you had better learn to behave and do as Nanny says, understand Babykins?’ Tears rolled down an already tear-stained cheek as Leslie slowly realised what Nanny was telling him.

‘Yes that’s right Leslie, my Christmas gift to you is a return to your babyhood. From now on I will treat you as Nanny’s baby girl, you will wear nappies and baby pants at all times, suck on your dummy and be put to bed at five o’clock each evening. From tomorrow you will wear short baby dresses. This is the one you will wear for Christmas lunch tomorrow.’

Nanny held up the red velvet, long-sleeved baby dress made especially for Leslie. Generously trimmed on the hem and cuffs with white lace, the large white collar was embroidered with the words, 'Merry Christmas Babykins'. When Nanny showed him the matching pantaloons, holding them up by the elasticised waist, she pronounced that Leslie would be, ‘Nanny’s Babykins princess tomorrow,’ and she gave him a little kiss on his furiously blushing cheek. Leslie sucked hard on his dummy, distraught at the thought of wearing such a babyish outfit.

Downstairs Charlotte and Jane talked, as the weak afternoon sun gave way to the early dusk of winter. It had been a simple matter to legally take over the firm thanks to Nanny; the two new cars parked on the drive bore witness to their immediate success in restoring the company’s competitiveness. But how would they deal with Leslie? He was too much of a loose cannon to be left to his own devices, and any role in the company could be ruled out.

It had been Nanny who suggested she should return to, ‘look after their brother’ and, to use her own words, ‘make sure he doesn’t cause any more mischief.’ Confronted with Nanny’s photographs and the threat of a tabloid exposure, Leslie had meekly acquiesced in relinquishing control of the firm. As far as the world was concerned Leslie had crumbled under the pressure of work and had sought refuge in warmer climes; Australia it was rumoured. Just another victim of work related stress.

Nanny held Leslie’s hand as they descended the wide, richly carpeted staircase. The sisters ended their conversation and watched as the two figures approached. One figure immaculately turned out in full nanny's uniform, the pristine, starched white apron in stark contrast to the black austere dress that juxtaposed so neatly behind it. The other, a picture of bewilderment, clutching reluctantly at Nanny’s hand, in the other arm hugging a fluffy white teddy bear, and sucking very self-consciously on a pink baby’s dummy.

‘Leslie, how adorable you look, and all ready for beddy-byes too, I see. What a very pretty nightie you’re wearing, I bet that keeps you lovely and warm - and such a sweet little nightcap!’ Charlotte took her brother onto her lap and heard the telltale rustle of baby pants.  Lifting up Leslie’s nightie, she exposed his nappies and plastic pants.

‘I see you have begun to put into practice what we discussed Nanny; we are so looking forward to seeing him in his pretty baby outfits. Will he be dressed accordingly for Christmas lunch tomorrow?’

‘Indeed Miss Charlotte,’ Nanny replied, ‘Baby Leslie is very excited about his new clothes aren’t you my sweet?’

Nanny gave the humiliated Leslie a stern look of warning as his hand ventured momentarily toward his dummy, his hope of rescue from his baby plight by his sisters dashed. His sisters knew Nanny had planned his return to babyhood. He slumped back in despair into the comforting bosom of his eldest sister.

‘Nanny, we are not keeping Leslie up too late are we?’ asked Jane, who was watching Leslie’s eyes start to droop as Charlotte nursed him. He had grown accustomed to being put to bed early, and infuriatingly for him he struggled to stay awake at times.

 ‘I really should take the little sleepyhead up to his beddy-byes shortly,’ Nanny mused.

‘We will give him his present, then you can take him up the wooden hill to Bedfordshire,’ Jane said, taking the drowsy Leslie by the hand and leading him toward the Christmas tree.

‘Now Baby Leslie, I know you have seen our new shiny cars and how much you used to like having one of your own, so we have decided to let you have this special present early.’

Leslie’s eyes were suddenly wide-awake as he thought for a moment his nightmare was ending. Then he saw it. In front of him was a toy pedal car. Moulded out of pink plastic it was the ultimate humiliation.

‘Look,’ gloated Jane, ‘it even has a personalised number plate.’ Leslie just had time to see the inscription, ‘BABY LESLEY 1’ before he was pushed into the toy. ‘Let us see you drive your new car, baby brother,’ urged his sister, as he reluctantly began to pedal the demeaning gift.

‘Well done Babykins!’ she clapped her hands with delight at the sight of her brother pedalling the babyish toy.

 Much to Charlotte’s dismay Nanny spoke: ‘Well, I think that’s enough excitement for one little babykins, time for bye-byes, sugar plum.’ Charlotte enjoyed seeing Leslie so firmly under Nanny’s control, and she was delighted that her brother was confined in nappies and nighties.

Nanny removed Leslie’s dummy. ‘Say goodnight to your sisters Baby Leslie, and say thank you for your lovely present.’ she prompted. Leslie pinched the seams of his nightie and gave a neat little curtsey as Nanny had taught, ‘Night-night, and thank you for my lovely prethent,’ he lisped and gave each sister a kiss on their proffered cheeks.

Charlotte and Jane could only admire Nanny’s disciplinary methods, and they watched, half in disbelief, as their brother toddled unsteadily up to bed clutching Nanny’s hand.

Nanny ushered Leslie into the nursery. He was looking forward to climbing into his lovely bed, made up with frilled pink pillowcases and matching sheets.

What a shock he got. His bed was gone and in its place was a baby’s cot. Pink painted rails and bunny rabbit motifs decorated the infantile sleeping place. Nanny lay Leslie down onto the pink flannelette sheet that covered the mattress. ‘Babies don’t have pillows and this fleecy baby blanket should be enough for you, with that cosy nightie on,’ Nanny said sternly as Leslie squirmed in the unfamiliar surroundings. ‘Baby will soon get used to his new cot, after all you will be spending a lot of time here what with your naps and early bed times.’

Nanny drew on a cord sewn into the hem of Leslie’s nightie and he found himself encased in a snuggle bag of thick winceyette. ‘Baby can’t climb out of its cot now, can she? She mocked with a wink, as Leslie kicked his legs helplessly in a futile attempt to escape his winceyette prison, ‘and if Baby tries, she is going to get a smacked bottom.’ Leslie was totally bewildered by this change in his circumstance and started to cry.

Nanny was unsympathetic. She pulled up the cot rail.

‘You treated me most unfairly and unkindly when you evicted me from my home, Leslie.  Now I can have you as my own sweet Babykins – what do you think of that, my little lamb?  You sisters approve of my action so you can forget about ever returning to your former life. You will become my baby girl, using a potty and gurgling like a real baby. The fact that you hate wearing nappies and baby clothes matters not at all to me, you are mine to dress and treat as I like.’

Nanny tweaked Leslie’s ear to make sure he was listening to her. She wanted him to be very certain of what his life would be like from now on.

‘Oo Nanny that hurt.’

‘That’s just the start pet lamb,’

Nanny continued, ‘you will follow a strict routine.  Naptime in the morning will be at ten until ten-thirty; in the afternoon I will change you into your soft baby nightie and put you down for the night at four o’clock at the latest seven days a week. If you misbehave in any way you will be spanked and put to bed immediately. When I take you out visiting you will always be dressed ready for beddy-byes encased in your pretty nightie’s and sucking your dummy so my friends can enjoy your humiliation. You will only be able to crawl around our feet gurgling sweetly like the baby you are.’

Leslie stared up at Nanny from his cot in fear and disbelief.

‘Nanny please don’t do this I beg….’

Nanny didn’t even wait to hear his pathetic pleadings; she thrust his dummy into his mouth.

‘That’s the last time I expect to hear grown up talk from you babykins,’ she scolded, ‘it’s lisping baby girl talk from now or nothing. I can quite easily tie that dummy in place all day if need be. If you disobey you will find yourself over my knee.’

Nanny had finally gotten it off her chest, the anger and sense of injustice she had felt had disappeared, now she could concentrate on ensuring Leslie became a doting, dependent baby who would need to have his big fleecy nappies changed, and be cared for by Nanny, for a long, long time to come.