what if there was a place where you could go and turn back the clock would you do it if there was what would you want to be or do
lily
what if
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Little Stinky Britches
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I would love to be a real baby again, between 6 and 9 months old.
Only this time, I would have a loving, sweet mommy, who would smile every time I pooped my pants.
(Not like the real mother I was born to, who hated me and hated my poopy diapers.
)
I would re-set the clock to 1959, with a different mother. This time, I would be loved and cared for, not cursed at when I dirtied my pants.
My grandmother (her mom) told me that when I was a baby, my mom would say things like, "That little bastard shit his pants again." When I learned to walk, she tried to potty-train me at the age of 13 months. She told my grandmother, "When is he going to learn to stop shiting his pants? He's a big boy, and I'm tired of him crapping his drawers." Again, I was 13 months old.
(My mom believed that when a baby took their first steps, it was time to start potty-training. Her "reasoning" was that if a baby could walk, therefore becoming a toddler, they could hold and control their bowel movements. In other words, if a baby could walk, they could be out of diapers and use a potty chair like a "big boy".
)
Whis is why, of course, I have the fantasy that I do.
In my re-set clock, back to 1959, I am around 9 months-old, a fat, chubby baby with beefy thighs, tooth-less grin, and a big, soft, cloth diapered bottom, covered with plastic baby panties. I can pull myself up, and stand as I hold on to something. My mother sees me standing and smiles at me, I can feel her love for me in every fiber of my being.
As I make my way to her, holding on to the sofa for support, she begins to smell the mess in my pants. Far from being upset (like my real mom would be) my "new" mother smiles at me as the pungent aroma reaches her nose. I can see the look of love come across her face as she sniffs the air and playfully wrinkles up her nose.
It is a look of motherly love and joy on her face, as the smell in my pants fills the room.
I have seen this look a thousand times, but never with my real mom.
Anyway, great question Lily!
By the way Lily, you are sooooo pretty!
Only this time, I would have a loving, sweet mommy, who would smile every time I pooped my pants.
(Not like the real mother I was born to, who hated me and hated my poopy diapers.
)I would re-set the clock to 1959, with a different mother. This time, I would be loved and cared for, not cursed at when I dirtied my pants.
My grandmother (her mom) told me that when I was a baby, my mom would say things like, "That little bastard shit his pants again." When I learned to walk, she tried to potty-train me at the age of 13 months. She told my grandmother, "When is he going to learn to stop shiting his pants? He's a big boy, and I'm tired of him crapping his drawers." Again, I was 13 months old.
(My mom believed that when a baby took their first steps, it was time to start potty-training. Her "reasoning" was that if a baby could walk, therefore becoming a toddler, they could hold and control their bowel movements. In other words, if a baby could walk, they could be out of diapers and use a potty chair like a "big boy".
)Whis is why, of course, I have the fantasy that I do.
In my re-set clock, back to 1959, I am around 9 months-old, a fat, chubby baby with beefy thighs, tooth-less grin, and a big, soft, cloth diapered bottom, covered with plastic baby panties. I can pull myself up, and stand as I hold on to something. My mother sees me standing and smiles at me, I can feel her love for me in every fiber of my being.
As I make my way to her, holding on to the sofa for support, she begins to smell the mess in my pants. Far from being upset (like my real mom would be) my "new" mother smiles at me as the pungent aroma reaches her nose. I can see the look of love come across her face as she sniffs the air and playfully wrinkles up her nose.
It is a look of motherly love and joy on her face, as the smell in my pants fills the room.
I have seen this look a thousand times, but never with my real mom.
Anyway, great question Lily!
By the way Lily, you are sooooo pretty!
Phew! Somebody needs a changing.
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wkoldnewbornbabyboy
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DommyMommyAva
- Site Admin
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Hi All
Hmmm you can be my Mommy Ava.
I love the fifties stuff. Shirt waist dresses, Pearls and High Heels. I found a great black rotary dial phone the other day for the dining room. I am doing a fifties kitchen motif. So of course i have been shopping for Aprons to protect those lovely Shirt waist dresses.
I am also restoring a Sellers Kitchen cabinet. Commonly referred to as Hoosier cabinets. they have great storage and functionality and a quaint homey touch. Right down to the Enamel worksurface, and the swing down flour sifter for making fresh bread daily.
Let's pile into the car and go down to the A&W Drive in for a burger
BabySuzy
Hmmm you can be my Mommy Ava.
I love the fifties stuff. Shirt waist dresses, Pearls and High Heels. I found a great black rotary dial phone the other day for the dining room. I am doing a fifties kitchen motif. So of course i have been shopping for Aprons to protect those lovely Shirt waist dresses.
I am also restoring a Sellers Kitchen cabinet. Commonly referred to as Hoosier cabinets. they have great storage and functionality and a quaint homey touch. Right down to the Enamel worksurface, and the swing down flour sifter for making fresh bread daily.
Let's pile into the car and go down to the A&W Drive in for a burger
BabySuzy
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MissLizabeth
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DommyMommyScarlet
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MommyMaggy
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StepSisterMandy
- Mommy
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I would like to go back and live in many different times, although I might not always wish to stay *giggles* I would like to check out the 20's, I might want to skip over hte depression and visit the 50ies, and the 70ies, those were exciting times.
Mandy
Tattletale : motivated by selfish reasons, seeking attention, she may sadistically enjoy the punishment or embarrassment of others, or “telling” may be a convenient way of getting rid of obstacles.
Tattletale : motivated by selfish reasons, seeking attention, she may sadistically enjoy the punishment or embarrassment of others, or “telling” may be a convenient way of getting rid of obstacles.
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mommystella
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