Monkey Mikey 2

 

If Mikey was pushed to decide what the most annoying part of his new life was, it was how quickly everyone had accepted him as little more than a toddler.


"You've got a lot of sand on your tootsies, monkey!" Mitchell said as they arrived at the beach house.

"We were just on the beach."

"Oh, sounds like someone's getting grumpy." Mitchell squatted down. Sure, that made Mikey taller than him, but not by much. It was still close enough that he felt like he was on the smaller boy's level. "Here, we don't want to track sand into the house."

Mikey squirmed and tried to get Mitchell to stop, but in no time flat, he was stripped down to his underwear.

"Is there sand in your Spideys?" Mitchell asked. "Well, monkey?" He playfully poked Mikey's belly button.

"No, dada."

"Well, just to be safe" he tugged them down, grinning as Mikey covered himself.

"My little monkey's so protective." He teased. "C'mon, let's go inside."

Their parents seemed to see nothing strange about Mikey being completely naked as he led Mitchell into the house. The boys had fought so much less since Mitchell had taken charge, so it only made sense to let him keep doing what he was doing.

"Did you two have fun today?" Dad asked.

"Yes, daddy." Mikey mumbled, wiggling impatiently. "Can I go?" Dad grinned. Mitchell really had Mikey under his thumb, a far sight from the defiant shoplifter he had been only a few months prior.

"Tell daddy what we did today."

"We went swimming and ate ice cream and... stuff."

"Who's we?" His dad asked.

"Me and dada." Mikey mumbled, jutting his bottom jaw out in annoyance. Mitchell tousled his brother's hair, pulling his hand away and looking at the few grains of sand on it.

"I think he's smuggling the whole beach in his hair, so let's get you into the bath, monkey."

"Yes, dada."

“Why do you still try to bathe yourself, Mikey?” Mitchell asked as he swatted his hand away for the umpteenth time. “When are you going to accept that this is the way things are now? I’m your dada, you’re my little monkey.”

“Cuz I’m older than you and I can bathe myself.”

“Well, mom and dad put me in charge.”

“They did not!”

“They did so.” Mitchell grinned. “They asked me to babysit you back when you were grounded. I don’t think they expected to come back to you being bottlefed, but” he shrugged. “The rest is history, isn’t it?” Mikey would never admit it, but it really was. Somehow, his parents had decided that this was what he really needed and if he did not accept it, he would have no choice but to. Soon, every aspect of his life was toddlerified. It had been gradual, but it still felt way too quick to Mikey. Sometimes, he wondered why he was even allowed to eat solid food still.

“All dry!” Mitchell declared, which meant it was time for Mikey to once again walk through the house naked. “Do you want dindin or jim-jams first?”

“Clothes.” He knew it would not be a satisfactory answer.

“Pow-pows on your bumbum?” Mitchell asked in a goofy voice. Mikey sighed.

“Jammies please, dada.” Mitchell nodded.

“And what’s your mantra, monkey?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, unless you want to go to bed right now, mister sourpuss.”

“But Mi” he felt Mitchell’s finger on his lips.

“No whining. Be a good little boy and tell me your mantra.”

“I’m a lucky little baby cuz I have a mommy, a daddy, and my dada who all love me very, very much.”

“That’s right, kiddo.” Mitchell said, smiling down at him. “My little baby monkey.” He took Mikey by the hand and led him to their bedroom. The beach house had enough bedrooms for Mikey to have his own, but the only way Mitchell would release him from his booster seat when they had first arrived was for Mikey to beg mommy and daddy to let him sleep in the same room as his dada. The way they had smiled unnerved him and he wondered if the vacation’s sleeping arrangements would continue back home.

“Lie down on the bed, monkey.” Mitchell grinned as he saw Mikey had already been on the way to do just that. Pout and mumble all he wanted, the routine was clearly taking hold. “We’re trying something a little different tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“Shh.”

“What’s the new thing, dada?”

“Well, mommy and daddy went to the store today, but they couldn’t find your Goodnites. You know, the ones with Spider-Man on them?” Mikey bent the toes of his left foot. Rolling his eyes got him in trouble, but that was a satisfying gesture that no one had caught on to yet.

The whole Spider-Man thing had come from Mitchell coercing him into playing on the old playground in their backyard in nothing but a Spider-Man tank top and his Spider-Man briefs. Ever since then, Spider-Man had become his favorite anything in his family’s minds. His face was painted like Spider-Man at every carnival they went to, his bed had Spidey and His Amazing Friends sheets and a blanket, and he even had to watch the actual show on Disney Junior.

“Whatever it takes to teach our budding criminal about the side of good.” His dad had remarked to his mom once. It had only been a bottle of soda! Why were they acting like he had robbed a bank and taken hostages?

“So, Mommy picked you up these.” The white rectangle in Mitchell’s hand was unmistakable.

“Diapers!?” Mitchell nodded, patting his thigh.

“Yes, monkey. I know they’re not what you expected, but if we’re going to be sharing a bed, I need to make sure we don’t end up waterlogged.”

“But… no! Mitchell, no!” He felt the slap on his thigh before Mitchell’s hand even landed.

“Mikey, you need to behave. You can either accept your diapers like a good boy or you’ll be wearing them for the rest of the vacation.” His jaw jutted forward, but he remained silent. “Pout all you want, Mikey. Doesn’t change the fact that you are a bedwetter.”

That was a lie and they both knew it. Mikey woke up dry each and every morning, but the Goodnites kept coming. Mitchell secretly was glad Mikey did not use his Goodnites. He liked them as underwear, but would prefer not to have to deal with messy clean-up. All the same, he insisted on his little monkey wearing them. Mikey had a suspicion that Mitchell told their parents he did wet the bed, but he had never been able to catch him in the act and him telling his parents he did not would only come off as a bashful little boy, or worse, a lying teenager.

“Alright, I’m going to diaper you.” Mitchell said. “Trust me, it won’t be as bad as you think.” It was as bad, and worse. Mikey felt as if his butt was a mile off the ground with the padding underneath it. He felt like he was wearing a pillow as Mitchell taped it around his waist, every crinkle seeming like a stab right into Mikey’s heart. It only grew worse when Mitchell pulled his pajamas on, the shorts barely fitting over his bulky diaper.

“There? See?” Mitchell said, leading the now waddling teen over to the mirror. “You can barely tell!” Mikey grunted. “And walk normally. It’s not even that much thicker than your Goodnites.”

“Is so.”

“You’re just being self-conscious. Look, I’m in boxers and you barely have more of a butt bulge than I do.” He smiled and squatted down. “Give me a kiss. Give dada a kiss.” Mikey sighed and complied, pecking his brother’s cheek. “There we go. Tell you what, if mommy or daddy says anything about your diaper, then I’ll admit they’re noticeable.”

“They will.”

“But you can’t cheat and tell them, kay? We’ll keep your diapers a secret between dada and dada’s silly little monkey, okay?” Mikey nodded. “Shake on it?” Mikey extended his hand and Mitchell shook it with faux solemnity.

“I don’t have to actually use them, do I?” Mikey asked in a small voice. Mitchell laughed.

“Oh, god, no. You use them and I’m making mom or dad change you.” He made an exaggerated grossed out face. “Nope, far as I’m concerned, they’re crinkly, puffy tighty whities.” Mikey looked somewhat relieved, but stayed silent, so Mitchell moved on to the next matter at hand. “You gonna feed yourself tonight, Mikey?” Mikey almost stomped his foot out of frustration, toes curling as he summoned up the strength to say what was expected of him. So much of his conversation with Mitchell was just call and response.

“No, dada. I’m a baby. Will you feed me, dada? Pretty, pretty please?” He grimaced as he saw Mitchell mouthing along.

“Of course I will, baby.”

Mikey sat on Mitchell’s lap as he fed him, fully aware that the diaper peeked out of the back of his shorts. Despite that, and his ungainly waddle to the dinner table, neither parent said a word about his audible crinkle. He could not understand why. Unless Mitchell had already arranged it with them? He shuddered at the thought even as he opened his mouth for another forkful of food.

Mikey had tried to think of his treatment as Mitchell being his servant, but he had made the mistake of mentioning it to him once. Mitchell had laughed and explained that no, he was his dada because Mikey had to do whatever he said. It had led into a daylong game of Dada Says to teach Mikey how to obey Mitchell without hesitation. He still had his outbursts, but as Mikey sat there, docilely opening his mouth for Mitchell, they both knew that it would take a lot to break him of the baby habits that were instilled in him. Mikey might want to grow up, but Mitchell had no plans to allow that any time soon. His surly, angry brother had become his silly little monkey and that was just perfect for him.