A Pyjama Punishment Monthly Letter To Matron

Dear Matron

My mother insists on very early bedtimes even though I am now almost seventeen. It doesn’t matter who is present in our house, my bath time is seven P.M. (after teatime and homework). I then have to be in my pyjamas which she insists have to be the kind that have tie-cord bottoms and a jacket that buttons to the neck and they make me look ridiculous. For seven nights a week I have to be ready for bed by 7:30, in bed by 7:45 with lights out by eight. If I try to protest I am spanked across mother's lap as if I was a little boy.

This bedtime routine applies not only on school days and weekends, but holidays too which I think is particularly unfair. If we are attending a party or function, we always leave early with my mother explaining to everyone that it is getting near to my bedtime and she need to get me home so I can be bathed and put into my pyjamas.

What is even more humiliating was what occurred last Christmas. We were at a family party and my aunt, at my mothers suggestion, had gifted me striped pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers. Mother insisted on changing me into my new bedtime outfit before leaving the family party so she could, "just pop him straight into bed when we get home.”
I have two younger cousins, Peter and Rebecca and I shudder to think how embarrassed I was sitting in my night attire like a little boy while they were still dressed in their day clothes.

Mother thinks children should not grow up too fast and has never considered my early bedtimes to be a punishment. However, when I am being put to bed at 8 pm in the middle of summer with the sound of much younger children playing in their back gardens until after dark it certainly feels like one.

Mother had indicated that my early bedtimes will continue until I am at least eighteen and it is nothing to do with me what kind of pyjamas I wear.

Would you please write to my mother and persuade her to stop treating me like a little boy and let me have a later bedtime?

Michael.

Matron Replies

Dear Michael

Under no circumstances will I be writing to your mother recommending that she change your bedtime. I may well write to her to tell her about your letter and to advise she imposes an even earlier bedtime and increase the amount of spankings she administers. Who do you think you are questioning your mothers decisions? If she thinks you need an eight o'clock bedtime then that is her decision to make. At seventeen you are still a minor and must obey your mother, it is up to her what pyjamas you wear and what time you go to bed so knuckle down, do as you are told and she may let you stay up until nine o'clock when you turn eighteen.

Matron

Chris Schneider’s Bedtime Nightmare. This is a story contributed by Chris. English is not his first language but he still managed to write an excellent story.

Chris Schneider’s Bedtime Nightmare


Chris Schneider’s mother believes in an old-fashioned approach when it comes to raising children. Unlike other children his age, Chris has to make sure he is always well mannered, does well in school, takes care of his daily and weekly chores and has a non-negotiable bedtime of 7.45 pm which, for a fifteen-year-old boy, he considers to be ridiculously early.

Mrs Schneider is a non-nonsense type of lady. If Chris acts up or fails to complete any of his chores there are consequences. Chris knows this only too well. For the most part he tries to stay out of trouble but being a fifteen-year-old boy there are times when his mum must punish him. 

Every morning his mother lays out his clothes for the day. Chris knows not to argue with her and for the most part he is happy to wear whatever his mother has chosen for him. 

One Saturday in July, Chris is on summer break. He spends a lot of time with his mother helping her around the house. Most kids his age ride their bikes, go to the pool and get into all sorts of mischief but Chris is not allowed outside without supervision and sometimes he wishes that he could just take his bike and go exploring around town instead of having to do chores. 

He and his mum are at the table having lunch. Chris is wearing red gym shorts, a white shirt, white socks and brown leather sandals. Mrs Schneider informs him about her plans for the rest of the day. 

“Darling, as the weather is so good we will go for a walk into town after lunch and later Mrs Miller and her daughter Helen, are coming for tea, she’s only a year younger than you isn’t she?” Chris nodded, he wasn’t too keen on Helen Miller, it was true she was only fourteen, but she was much bigger than Chris and the last time they had met she had teased him about his lack of stature.

After lunch Mrs Schneider tells Chris to go and wash his hands and face and change into the outfit she has put out for him. Chris goes to his room and finds his navy shorts and a white shirt. He changes into his outfit and goes back to the living room to tell mum that he is ready. They leave the house and head up toward the main street. Chris and his mum talk about all sorts of stuff. At one point Mrs Schneider asks him if there was anything that he wants to tell her about, something that perhaps happened last night for instance? He shakes his head, “no mum nothing.”

Mrs Schneider looks at him, “Chris, does mummy need to be cross with you?”  Nervously he replies.“No mum, I’ve been good, I promise.” She gives him a stern look.

“Mrs Davis, told me she saw a light in your bedroom late last night. You know you are not allowed to turn the light on after I have tucked you in.”  

Chris is speechless for a second as he attempts to think up an excuse. 

“Mum I had a nightmare and got scared but I didn’t want to admit being frightened so put the light on for a minute or two.” 

Mrs Schneider interrupts him. “Mrs Davis told me your light was on for almost twenty minutes, it was 8.30 before it was turned off.” 

Chris now knew that he was in trouble and all he could do is apologise. “I'm sorry, mum. I didn’t mean to be naughty.” Mrs Schneider was not impressed with his lack of truthfulness and as they continued their walk, she told her son.

“I can’t allow your misbehaviour and lies to go unpunished, there will have to be consequences.” Chris feels a knot in his stomach. He is annoyed that he was caught, after all, it is summer and the other kids get to stay up late so why can’t he too? 

They approach the general store and Mrs Schneider goes inside. The lady behind the counter Mrs Brown greets Mrs Schneider as they have known each other for many years. 

Mrs Schneider asks to see some slippers, mentioning Chris has been naughty and requires a proper slipper spanking. Chris realises why his mother has delayed his punishment as her old spanking slippers have worn out and Chris shifts nervously from one foot to the other as his mother selects a sturdy pair with rubber soles. “Yes I’ll take those ones please, they feel just right for spanking naughty boys.” She looked menacingly at Chris, and Mrs Brown suppresses a snigger as she put the slippers in a bag and hands them across.

Chris is too embarrassed to say anything as they leave the store. “We shall go straight home now and teach you a lesson about honesty and truthfulness.” 

When they arrive home, Mrs Schneider tells Chris to stand in the corner until she is ready to deal with him. Eventually, she enters the living room and tells him to come and stand next to the sofa. His mum begins by scolding him.

“Chris, you know I won’t tolerate you lying to mummy. If I tell you it’s bedtime I mean bedtime, that means no lights on, no playing, no reading. A boy of your age needs your sleep.”  As she scolds him she removes his shorts and makes him step out of them. She lowers his underpants and positions him ready to go across her lap. 

Chris pleaded with his mum not to spank him. “Please mummy I promise I won’t be naughty again. Please don’t spank me.” 

Ignoring his entreaties, she put him over her knees and once in position begins to spank him. Steady swats of her new slipper alternate on each of his buttocks until they are both various shades of red. Finally, she stops and caresses each buttock with circular movements of her hands as Chris sobs.

“There. It’s finished now, dry those tears. Now go to the bathroom, wash your face and meet me in your room.”

Chris’s room is rather spartan. There are a desk, a chair, a bookshelf and a bed.

As he enters, he sees that on his bed she had laid out baby powder, nappy cream, a pile of soft white flannelette nappies, blue plastic baby pants and a pale blue pair of footed, winceyette pyjamas.

“Mummy, please don’t make me wear my baby clothes in front of the Millers.” He begs.

“You should have thought of that before you decided to misbehave, it’s too late for apologies now.” She pats the bed, “come along, lie down.”

Mrs Schneider places three of the nappies on the bed and lifts up his legs so she can slip them underneath him, she applies nappy cream then baby powder to his groin and sprinkles some on her hands before rubbing the powder in and then fastens the nappy snugly with large nappy pins.

Happy that his nappies are tightly pinned, she puts his legs into the plastic pants pulling them up to make sure his nappy is fully covered. 

“There’s a good little baby boy,” she coos as she swings Chris’s legs around until they dangle over the side of his bed.

“Now, footsies into your jammies.” His mum holds the legs of his footed pyjamas, so he can push his feet into them. The pale blue pyjamas are made of winceyette and have a motif of hopping white bunnies. Once his feet are ensconced in the jim-jams, she pulls the rest of the garment up and put his arms into the sleeves. Mum turns his around so she can button him into them, the pyjamas were sewn especially to button up the back by a friend of his mum, Miss Dobson so Chris couldn’t remove them unaided.

“There, now. You're all ready for beddy-byes,” his mum tells him as she fusses with the collar of his pyjamas and pats his nappy. “Still nice and dry? Clever babykins.”

Chris knows that once he is nappied and wearing his babyish pyjamas, his mum always reverts to talking to him as if he were a baby. He is anxious, for he knows that in a few minutes Mrs Miller and Helen will be arriving and he will have to face them wearing his nappies, plastic baby pants and his babyish, footed pyjamas. 

The doorbell rings. Mrs Miller enters the living room followed by her daughter. Prompted by his mum, Chris gets up to greet the Millers. He knows that disobeying at this point would only make his embarrassment worse. 

Mrs Miller looks quizzically amused at Chris as he mumbles his hellos.

“Those are interesting pyjamas you’re wearing, are you not feeling well?” 

Mrs Schneider looks at Mrs Miller and explains. 

“No Mary, he is quite well, but those are his naughty boy pyjamas. Chris misbehaved and is now being punished. He won’t be joining us for tea as I will be putting him to bed shortly. Naughty boys like him don’t get to stay up late, do they?” 

Chris kept his head low but his mum was having none of it and looked at him angrily. 

“I asked you a question, and I require an answer. Do naughty boys get to stay up late?” Poor Chris was red with embarrassment and shook his head. “No mum, naughty boys don’t get to stay up late.”

Satisfied, his mum tells Chris to sit on the floor like a baby so that Helen and her mother can be comfortable on the sofa. Helen looked pointedly at the clock on the wall then directly at Chris sitting forlornly in front of her.

“I’m curious, Chris, what did you do to earn your early bedtime, you must have been very naughty?” She asked mischievously, knowing his mum would insist he answer her.

Chris looked up at Helen, he could tell she was relishing his discomfort at being on display wearing his nappies and babyish pyjamas. 

His voice was soft and timid as he recounted how he had put his bedside lamp on after lights out and then lied about it to his mother.

“Dear me, such a naughty boy, no wonder you have been bathed and put into your nappies and pyjamas this early, I hope mummy gave you a smacked bottom too.”

His mother answered. “You can be sure of that Helen, he was crying like a baby after I’d finished spanking him.”

Helen gave a little laugh.“ Much deserved by the sound of it and does Chris have more lovely pyjamas like these to remind him that he is a naughty little boy?“ 

“Oh yes, he has Bob the Builder pyjamas and a pair with Choo-choo trains on too.” Don’t you Chris?

He nodded miserably, “yes mum.”

“How sweet, perhaps I could babysit Chris some time? I would love to bath him and put him into his jimmy-jams ready for beddy-byes.”

His mum clapped her hands. “Why, Helen that’s a marvellous idea, your mother and I could have a night at the cinema and I wouldn’t have to worry about Chris, you could bath him, put him into his pyjamas and tuck him into bed at bedtime. Oh, this is a wonderful idea.”

Chris was appalled. “But mum, that’s not fair! Helen is a year younger than I am. She can’t babysit me.” 

Immediately, he regretted his outburst but it was too late.

“Mary, would you mind if Helen assists me while I deal with this naughty boy?” Mrs Miller nods enthusiastically as Mrs Schneider hauls Chris up from the floor and orders him to go say goodnight to Mrs Miller and apologise for the trouble he has caused. 

Mrs Schneider grabbed Chris by the upper arm and marched him up to his room accompanied by Helen. 

“Check to see if his nappy is still dry would you please,” she asks the fourteen - year-old. Eagerly Helen sits on the bed and hauls Chris onto her lap as though he were a toddler and checks his nappy. “All nice and dry Mrs Schneider,” she announces before asking why Chris was actually wearing a nappy.

“That’s part of his punishment. I always use infantile clothing to punish infantile behaviour, of course you must do the same if need be when you babysit him.”

Mrs Schneider closed the blinds and the new black out curtains and removes the lamp at his bedside. “No lamps any more for baby Chris,” she tells him.

Despite the sunlight outside it’s now almost totally dark inside Chris’s room except for the light that enters from the open bedroom door. 

“So what time does Chris usually go to bed?” Asks Helen.

“On weekdays at 8 pm and on weekends at 8.30 pm but when he is being punished for a week then he is bathed and put into nappies and pyjamas at six and tucked into bed by seven at the latest seven days a week. On special occasions such as now, he is pyjamaed, nappied and put to bed as soon as possible. Would you feel comfortable, following such a disciplinary schedule?”

Helen smiles, looking at Chris in his babyish footie pyjamas she replies. 

“Of course, in fact, I would be able to walk Chris home from school and get him ready for beddy-byes straight away.”

Chris whimpers in despair as he listens to their conversation but his protest is ignored as Mrs Schneider switches on the baby monitor, pulls back the bedclothes and instructs him to get into bed. Chris climbs in, Helen and his mum tuck him in tightly and each kisses him night-night. 

As the door closes behind them, the light in his room completely disappears. Fifteen-year-old Chris lies in the darkness tucked tightly into bed wearing nappies and infantile footed pyjamas, tears roll down his cheeks. Chris has a long future of nappies, pyjamas and early bedtimes ahead of him.