Natalie vs Her Parents chapter 19

This story is a lot longer than my first one because this has a lot more words and and more pages and the chapters are longer.

Chapter 19

That day, Mom and I were out in the backyard raking leaves. So far none of the neighbors had come out and said anything about my arrest so I had less worries but I still didn’t want to leave our home. We had not raked them all month so they were all lying all over our yard. Matthew has raked them a few times just to jump in them from our swing set. He would rake them into a pile and jump in them. Now Mom and I were picking them all up. We just raked them into piles first. I asked Mom about Dad being in a bad mood last night.

“Why was Dad mad last night?” I asked.

“Bad day at work,” said Mom. “He has just been having a tough time with his job lately ever since they have gotten a new boss and he just lost his friend.”

“Did he die?” I asked.

“No they are just not friends anymore. Your father has always had different friends over the years and then loses them. He has never had any good ones either and he thought he did this time but it turns out she was never good.”

“Why does he lose them?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I think they get tired of his antics and when he gets drunk, he can say stupid things and in college, he made these friends and he would go to parties with them and drink and get very drunk and do stupid things and that was the only time he was with them. Then when he cut way back, he lost those friends and he didn’t enjoy being there with other people. He only enjoys social interaction if he drinks. Plus he loses touch when they move or when we would. But it takes two to do it because they never stayed in touch either so it’s not just him with the problem, it’s them too.”

“Friend problems must run in our family,” I said.

“I think it does, Aunt Celeste had that trouble, I did, your Grandma, Uncle Sam, and your father was always getting into trouble at school with other kids because he would do things to fit in and other kids would dare him to do it or else they wouldn’t be his friend. Then he took me out based on mean bets his new friends were giving him and then he lost those friends when he quit taking me out on bets. But thanks to them, we wouldn’t have met if they didn’t bet your father money and have him come back and tell them all about me on the date and what I did. But I don’t think there is such thing as a permanent friend. Interests change, people change, people move, people make new friends and they just move on. Who does keep friends? I have never met anyone who has never lost a friend. Your dad has had the same ones for a few years before losing them so that is pretty good.”

Mom and Dad met in high school but what brought them together was when his friends started to bet my dad money if he took her out and then go back and tell them about how weird Mom was on the date so they could all laugh at her behind her back and make fun of her so Dad was taking her out for money and was basically making money off of her. But thanks to them, he got to know her better but Mom found out about the mean bet and left him and then they got back together when Mom realized he really liked her and he wasn’t taking her out on bets anymore and he was taking her out on his own and he wasn’t seeing her to poke fun at her with his buddies.

“He has fine social skills but he still can’t keep them. He can read their intentions, read body language, social cues, and he still has trouble with friends. I think some people just have that problem nonetheless,” Mom continued. “I guess it takes one to know one, Dad and I found each other and I am the only one he was able to keep. Besides I don’t think any other woman would want a guy like him because of the way he is.”

“You social skills are good too now right?” I asked.

“Heavens no, mine are still bad,” said Mom.

“How?” I asked.

“I still interrupt, take over conversations, I may still be talking about something while other people have moved on, your dad tells me I shouldn’t have said whatever I had just said or tells me I am taking over a conversation or tells me I am rambling and giving a lecture, I miss social cues and don’t know how to act in a situation, I always need to leave during social visits and walk around, I still have a hard time reading body language, people may be talking and me and then all of a sudden I say something off topic and start talking about it.”

“But everyone interrupts and goes off topic and talks about something else,” I said.

“Yes but they know when it’s the right time to do it, I have a hard time with that and it’s very hard to keep track of what people are saying during conversations and I often don’t know what to say so I just listen and by the time I do know what to say, everyone has moved onto another topic and if I say what I wanted to say, everyone will just get lost about what I had just said and not understand. People just think I’m shy because I’m so quiet.”

“I don’t get it, what is the right time to do it?” I asked. “I see people go off topic all the time and interrupt but when I do it, people get mad at me for it.”

“Same here,” said Mom. “People just know when it’s the right time to do it. Struggles I have had with people I have seen the same with you and Matthew, Allie seems to have some struggles with it too. Reading a book about etiquette and body language helped but it’s not black and white because it always changes in social situations. The same body language may not mean the same thing every time it’s used. I wonder how people even know those things. Even your father can’t help me there because it’s something you can’t really explain to someone and teach. They don’t know either and they just know but they don’t really know how they do it and don’t know how to explain it or teach you. I don’t know why they have books out there about it if it’s not all accurate. It’s obvious even normal people have a hard time with it too or else there wouldn’t be books about it.”

“So that means lot of people have a hard time with social skills,” I said.

I think I knew what social skills were now.

“Yeah, you can say that,” said Mom. “See? You’re normal. If you aren’t then other people aren’t either unless those authors cater to the minority. Now someone should write a book about how to end a conversation.”

“Why?”

“I have a hard time ending them,” said Mom.

“If you don’ want to talk anymore, you just say so,” I said.

“But that is abrupt so it’s considered rude. Have you noticed when I am talking on the phone, I all of a sudden say, “okay, take care, talk to you later, bye” and hang up?”

“I never really paid any that close attention,” I said.

“Apparently that is rude but I don’t know what I am supposed to do. If someone says they need to get going, I let them go. What else am I supposed to do? Not let them go? I don’t like talking on the phone anyway or answering the door. The phone I will answer because it could be one of your teachers calling or Dad or you or Kelly or the school or one of the parents. Sometimes I think about getting a caller ID so I can see who is calling. I hate getting telemarketers so I just hang up before they even finish. Same as when I get political phone calls. I know when to turn in my ballot so I don’t need people calling me to get it done. Your father and I just put in our votes and mail them off. In fact we just got them in the mail the other day and we need to it soon. It took me years to learn to hang up on those people.”

Mom never answers the door unless she is expecting someone so Matthew, Kelly, or I answer it. If someone needs to talk to her, they have our number to call or can look it up in the phone book. Mom and Dad also have up the no soliciting sign but kids stop by anyway for fundraising and when they sell Girl Scout cookies. What is the point in that sign if no one listens to it? Mom and Dad got tired of bible thumpers and Mormons coming to our door so they put that sign there. But I love getting Girl Scout cookies. Mints are my favorite so we always order those. I remember doing Girl Scouts once when I was six and I sold cookies and handed them out. I can remember doing it with Veronica and I just followed her around and we used the red wagon and pulled them in it. Our mothers were even with us when we did it. Veronica’s mother did the Girl Scouts at her home and girls from our neighborhood went there. We were all six and seven and eight. I was one of the youngest there. It always happened right after school and everyone went to her house after they get off the bus. Since I was in PM Kindergarten, I always got off and went to her house. I started out in AM kindergarten but then I was placed in PM when they put me in the other class. So I met all these new kids I had never seen before. But lot of them had moved because I don’t see them in my high school. As I got older, more of them disappeared because they had moved or went to another school or got home schooled. Now I was gone too from my school. The kids are probably going to think I moved. But the kids in my neighborhood would know I didn’t move and they would probably tell other kids at school I am still around, I just don’t go to their school anymore. They would see Kelly and Matthew is why so they would know I didn’t move. Plus they would see my parents too. I was planning on staying in my home forever unless they see me outside. I would still leave the house of course to go to school or when we leave town but I was not going to ever go to town again or walk around the neighborhood. I would just stay in the car if I have to.

“How can it be hard to learn to hang up on them?” I asked Mom. “You just do it.”

“I mean it took me a while to get the courage to just hang up and that it’s okay to do and it’s not rude. Your phone is your own private line and they are calling bothering you and trying to sell you something and they push you and push you until you give in so you need to be tough and just tell them NO and hang up. It’s okay to be rude in that situation. You know what your father used to do when Brian was little?”

“What?” I asked.

“He used to give them a hard time. Like he would pretend to be literal or hand the phone to Brian and do something else while the telemarketer would be waiting for him to come back and they would be listening to Brian singing his ABCs or nursery rhymes or listen to him count to ten or to twenty however far he had learned his numbers, or Dad would pretend he is dumb and would make them repeat themselves over and over, or just start rambling on about random things until they hang up.”

“Does he still do it?” I asked.

“No.”

“Why not? That sounded like fun.”

“He got busy and we had more children and he had better things to do than being on the phone giving cold callers a hard time.”

“Did you do it too?” I asked.

“No,” said Mom.

“Why not?”

“I wasn’t any good and it was never my thing. When he got older, he just started to hand the phone to you guys or leave the phone off the hook for a while until they hung up. He was always a trickster, playing pranks on the substitute teachers, or on anyone he didn’t like or he was mad at, he once ordered a dozen pizzas for his old boss when we lived in LA or letting someone we didn’t like hold you and you puked all over that person because your father was hoping that is what would happen. While he liked practical jokes, I liked blackmailing. I, Elizabeth, and Bridgett would all do it and I learned it from them and they taught me how.”

“What’s blackmailing?” I asked.

“It’s when you use something against someone. You tried doing that to Kelly one time remember? You caught her wearing one of your diapers so you locked all the bathrooms and took movies of her in one and took photos and Dad and I made you erase it and he destroyed the photos once he got them developed.”

“Yeah and you ruined my fun,” I said.

“We couldn’t let you hurt your sister. You were going to show those to other kids and we weren’t going to allow it.”

“Only if she didn’t use my diaper and if she took it off,” I said.

We talked some more and then Mom went in the garage and brought out the leaves bags she had bought at the store that were the Pumpkin kind and we were going to put leaves in them and set them out in the front yard as decoration.

Mom opened the box and pulled out a bag. She unfolded it and got it open and we started to put leaves in there. We kept filling it until it was full and we stuffed as much as we could in there. Then Mom got out a twist tie and tied the bag closed. Mom pulled it aside and we raked the leaves again in the pile. I got out another bag and unfolded it and we put more leaves in there. We were filling them up when Kelly came home. She came outside on the back deck. She started talking to Mom from there. “Mom, I have that party thing tonight for my soccer team, it’s at Sunny’s Pizza. It starts at five but you don’t have to be there. You can give me a ride and drop me off there and I can get a ride home from one of my friends. If not, I can call you to come pick me up.”

“I would like to be there and see you get your trophy,” said Mom.

“No mom, it will be really loud, there will be people talking, people clapping and cheering, there will be lot of people and tons of little kids making noise that will hurt your ears and you would probably run out of there and hide in your car or in the restroom. But maybe I will try and save you some cake and bring a piece home for all of you.”

What was Kelly talking about? Mom had gone to our things before where we get handed a trophy when soccer season would end and softball. Every team member is given a trophy with their name and team name on it and the year they played.

“Okay, if you want to go there alone, fine by me,” said Mom. “If you don’t want me there, just say so instead of making excuses. I’m not that dense. I know when you are making them to be nice.”

“Okay sorry Mom. Yes I just want to be there alone with my team. I doubt Dad will come since he is a workaholic and turned into a heavy drinker. He has barely come to my games. At least you have even if you would be the loudest cheerer sometimes and distract my team and me or walk around with ear plugs looking silly and getting in peoples way.”

“Dad needs to work to support this family,” said Mom. “Would you rather live in a much smaller house and a less nice neighborhood or have no cable and no internet? How about no school activities? How about no sports, or no going on field trips?”

“How come you don’t want your family there?” I shouted at Kelly as Mom was saying that.

“Because you all embarrass me no offense. Plus Dad does too sometimes if there happens to be alcohol or if something triggers his illness or if his food isn’t served right.”

“All parents and siblings embarrass their children and siblings,” said Mom.

“Whatever Mom,” said Kelly.

I kept on putting the leaves in the bag as Mom just stood there listening to Kelly.

“I am going inside now to spend some little time on the computer since my sister is out here working,” said Kelly and she went back inside.

Mom got back to work but she didn’t seem to keep her focus as well. Damn it, Kelly had to ruin our time together. We also didn’t return to our topic because I didn’t know where we left off and what we were saying. But Mom still worked because she wanted to get the leaves all in the bags and bring them to the front yard and place them along the pathway to our front porch.
Then she said she was going to walk Skippy and told me to finish with the leaves.

Mom went inside. I kept on raking and putting the leaves in the bag. Then I got out another bag, the last one, and unfolded it and started putting leaves in that one.

I was still in my messy diaper from today. I hadn’t changed out of it. I did remember to take my pill for it because Mom reminded me after I finished my lunch. But I was wearing different pants of course and so was Mom. She also changed her panties. Knickers Dad calls them. Dad has different words for things like he will call the car trunk the boot or car hood the bonnet or a flashlight the torch, he calls crosswalks a zebra crossing and he calls freeways a motorway, and he calls trucks a lorry and he will say words like bloody, berk, and blimey. When I get very mad, I start yelling in his language. I once told a kid at school to sod off and no one knew what I was saying.

Mom had asked me during lunch how could I like being in a messy diaper and I told her I am used to it and I don’t like the clean up so I stay in it. Mom called me a stubborn girl for it. She then asked me if I am now going to stay in my messy diapers in school and out about since I am taking those pills now and I told her I would because it’s a big mess to clean up in the restroom and they don’t have anything for me to wash my butt with. Mom then told me the story how she messed herself in seventh grade one time and she hated it so she can’t understand why I would like being in my mess. Kids saw her accident and called her Shitnita for a while. But she had diarrhea so that was different I told her. Mom had told me this story already a few times. I first heard it in sixth grade. She had terrible stomach cramps when she went to school and in third period, she had a loose stool and farted and poop came out in her panties and everyone heard the mess and smelled it and the mess went down her legs and all over her butt. It was impossible to hide the mess and the teacher wouldn’t let her go to the bathroom when she raised her hand and asked. Because Mom was so rule oriented, she didn’t run to the bathroom anyway so she messed herself and kids called her Shitnita for a while. It didn’t help that Grandma got mad at her for not running to the bathroom because it just made it confusing for my poor mother. She was taught to follow the rules or there is a consequence and then she gets in trouble for following her teacher’s rule. So either way got her in trouble.

The problem is people just expect you to know what rules to break and when you can break them without them being spelled out. Mom and Dad have always spelled it out to us and didn’t get mad at us for following a rule when we should have broken it. They would just tell is in that situation it would have been okay and we know now. People expect other people to be mind readers. Sometimes breaking rules is good like what Rosa Parks did about refusing to give up her seat on the bus so she was arrested for it. The rule was stupid and unfair and discriminatory so she stood up for herself and chose to get arrested and didn’t care. Then all the other black people decided to support her by refusing to ride the buses.

But if you want to break a rule, don’t complain about the consequence. I can never stand to hear anyone complain about getting in trouble because they chose to break a rule. If they think the rule is unfair and stupid, go on and break it and brag about what you got in return but not complain. I am sure Rosa Parks bragged about being in jail because she felt so proud standing up for herself and she was strong so it was something to be proud of. The rule in our house is if any of us kids feel one of their rules is unfair, we have to come up with a very good reason to why it’s unfair and they may reconsider. There are a few rules I break in our house like not going to bed when I should or reading in bed when I should be going to sleep, not changing my diaper when I should. Hey if Kelly thinks it’s stupid to be home at seven, she should come up with a good reason why that rule is stupid instead of just breaking it and moan about getting in trouble for it.

Mom told me one time our neighbors have been shocked that she and Dad allowed us kids to “talk back” to them and she explained to them they like to treats us like real people and with respect and she wants our respect too so she has to treat us with such. Other parents in our neighborhood do not allow their kids to question their rules or to come up with a good reason why their rule is dumb, it’s their way and that’s it, no disagreeing about it. I guess it is a good thing I have strange parents and they’re strange in a good way.

I finished putting the leaves in all three bags. But they were so heavy to carry so I dragged the first bag to the gate. These things were huge and they were bigger than the trash bags we use for the trash cans in the garage which my dad calls them rubbish bins or dustbins. Then I tried to pick it up but I was too afraid of dragging it on the stepping stones so I went in the garage and grabbed our old wagon and bought it to the gate and put the bag on it. With the leaves being wet from the rain, it just made the bag heavy. Especially if they had been in piles too and got wet from the rain. I pulled the wagon to the pathway that leads to our front porch. I pulled the bag off the wagon and stuck it on the grass along the pathway. I pulled the wagon to the backyard. I decided I could just jump in the wagon and ride it down the slope we have in our yard. Our house is on a hill so our yard goes down a little. I ran up to the wagon and jumped in it and rode it down the hill but my weight didn’t make it go down far. I got out and pulled it to the bags and put one of them on it using my strength. Then I grabbed the next bag and put it on the wagon too. I stated to pull and it was so heavy. I pulled it up facing the wagon instead of having my back turned to it. I looked around our yard as I kept pulling. I even looked at my old playhouse in the corner that was slowly rotting. I haven’t used it since I was ten. I had used it as an outhouse and slept in there too. Mom slept in hers too when she was in her teens but hers was the tree house. I looked at our covered sandbox. We keep it covered with boards or else our cats will use it as a litter box. We have it near the back deck close to the house. Then we have the storage shed where we keep the garden tools and the lawn mower and other outdoor things like rakes and shovels. It’s under the back deck on the cement.

I kept pulling the wagon. I was starting to sweat. I wanted to give up but Mom told me she wanted the bags along the pathway when we are through. Then one of the bags popped open because I didn’t have it tied tight enough. The leaves fell out of it.

“Oh bloody hell,” I said.

I was not happy. I picked the leaves back up and put them in the bag. I tied it again and pulled the wagon again up the hill. It wasn’t very steep but it was still a pain to pull. How come I had to be the only one to do this and not Kelly?

I made it through the gate and I pulled it down the path and onto the driveway to the other pathway. I pulled the bags off the wagon and set them on the grass and I put the wagon in the garage and sat on the porch swing we have on our front porch. Kelly and I and her friends used to like swinging hard on this and my parents got tired of us misusing it, they took it down for a while and had it off for about four years before putting it back up. We had our swing set and we still liked swinging hard on this.

My diaper felt uncomfortable so I got up and went inside. I took my shoes off and put them aside and hung my coat up and went up to my room. I grabbed one of my new diapers and the rash cream for in case I needed it and went in the bathroom.

I took my clothes off and dirty diaper and washed the poop off in the tub. I used bar soap to clean myself so I wouldn’t smell like poo. Then after I was done, I got out and dried off and put on the clean diaper. I didn’t need to use rash cream this time because it felt fine and it wasn’t hurting. They heal fast when you use the cream. I put my pants in the hamper since they got dirty from the leaves and put on a clean pair in my room. Kelly was doing her homework and wasn’t on the computer. She must have already finished. I went downstairs to watch some TV. Then mom then walked in the door. Skippy came inside and walked around.

“You did well with those bags,” Mom told me. “But I had to fix them when I got home. Not bad.”


Mom, Matthew, and I were all sitting at the table eating dinner. It was close to seven at night. Kelly wasn’t here because she was still at her thing at Sunny’s Pizza. She said she would be home around seven thirty. We had all the lights off except for the lamp in the family room and we had candles at the table. Matthew was talking about Star Wars this time instead of about dinosaurs or Jurassic Park or The Lost World or about bums.

Then we heard the garage door opening.

“Everyone in their seats,” Mom ordered.

We all scrambled out of our chairs and got in our right spots. Dad always has assigned seats during meal time and he gets upset if we are not sitting in our spot. He likes order and patterns.

Dad came inside but he was in a very bad mood again. He was worse this time than last night because he totally ignored Mom when she asked him what was wrong and if he was okay as he started to slam the cupboard doors and screaming. I felt tense inside and I caught myself rocking back and forth. Dad kept slamming around the kitchen and then he finally grabbed a sharp knife from the knives holder and walked towards us. Matthew hid under the table as I ran out of my chair. I ran to the staircase but Dad just walked by the table and went in the family room. Then Mom screamed “Glen stop it, what are you doing?”

Dad kept on screaming and I was too scared to look. Then I heard things being thrown.

“Glen, stop it,” Mom yelled again.

“Leave me alone,” Dad yelled back.

More things were thrown and then I heard something else, a thud. I saw Matthew staring at the incident with a look on his face. Dad then came in the hallway and rushed up the stairs passing by me but he pushed me aside in a huff. My head banged against the wall and he didn’t even apologize. What was wrong with him? Is this what happens when he doesn’t drink?

I went back in the kitchen and saw the mess Dad had made in the family room. One of the cushions on the couch had been slashed open and white stuff was out of it, movies were thrown all over and so were the cushions. Mom was standing in the family room.

“It’s okay kids, I think Dad is just having a breakdown,” she informed us.

“Maybe he is drunk,” said Matthew.

“I didn’t smell any alcohol on him. He must be having bad withdrawal symptoms,” Mom told him.

“No I think he is just stressed out from work,” I said. “He’s been working too much.”

“But I have not seen him act this badly in years,” said Mom.

“Maybe work has been even more stressful than before and he can’t handle it anymore,” I said.

I was finally covering for him. This just came to me so I said it.

“Well hopefully this will all blow over and then he will be back to normal and I hope he won’t return to his drinking.”

I sat back in my assigned seat and went back to eating. Mom sat back down in her assigned spot and so did Matthew.

We heard thumping upstairs.

“What is Dad doing?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” said Mom.

“What if he wrecks my things too?” Matthew asked.

“I hope he doesn’t mess my room up,” I said.

Matthew got out of his chair.

“Matthew, where are you going?” Mom called.

“I want to see if Dad is touching my room,” Matthew replied as he ran up the stairs.

I got out of my seat too to check my own bedroom. Dad was in the master bedroom thumping around in there. I heard things being thrown. I checked my room anyway and saw Dad didn’t go in there. I was relieved. I went back downstairs. Mom was still sitting at the table.

I couldn’t eat my food anymore because I didn’t feel hungry anymore. Dad had come home and ruined our time with his rage. What if he does turn into a mean Dad like the one did in Ashley’s Diaper Adventures. He did drive home one night and screamed at his wife all night long and then left and came home again that day and screamed again about dirty dishes in the sink and toys lying all over and then he tries to lay a hand on Ashley but his wife stops him. Then there is my former Uncle Jeffery who was an alcoholic and he starts to drink and then he drinks more and he starts beating my aunt and she turns into a drunk too and ends up neglecting her kids and not care about them anymore. Every alcoholic turns into a mean person. Now Dad was coming home and raging and this time he cuts open a pillow and throws stuff and leaves a mess. He also shoved me aside too without even saying excuse me or even saying his sorry.

“I am scared this is going to get worse,” I said.

“I hope not,” said Mom. “I am sure it will get better like it always has before.”

“If so, will you divorce him?” I asked.

“Why do you want divorced parents? My father left my mother when I was eight and I hardly ever saw him and I thought for years it was my fault.”

“Karen Brewer’s parents are divorced in The Baby Sitters Club Little Sister books and she has two homes, she gets to live at each home every other month,” I said.

“And that is just a story Natalie. Not all parents live close together. What if Dad moved back to England? Then who are you going to choose to live with? Me or him? Him, you will rarely get to see me. Me, you will rarely get to see him and flying to Europe is very expensive. Or what if he decided to stay in this house and I moved out and moved near Aunt Elizabeth? Then we will be three hours apart. Would you want that?”

We were both silent for a few seconds. I was thinking if I would want it.

“I will live in two different places like maybe have one weekend with you or here and have a whole summer here or there,” I said.

Mom sighed. “Oh my god.”

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing just nothing. You are in your fantasy world about this whole divorce thing aren’t you? You really do want us to split.”

“Yeah for two houses and a bigger family,” I said.

“And what if we never remarry? What if Dad’s new wife doesn’t have any kids? What if he marries a narrow minded woman who doesn’t understand you and won’t accept your medical condition? You would hate coming to his place and you would basically be stuck with one home. What if the siblings are mean to you and the mother does nothing about it? What if she becomes your evil stepmother?”

“But if he becomes like Bridgett’s ex-husband, are you going to then divorce him? Why would you want to stay with someone who beats you?” I asked.

“He does not beat me,” said Mom.

“But what if he starts to?” I asked.

“Well if it starts and continues, I know the plan, pack our bags and leave and go to my Mom’s and start from there. So I am not worried. Besides if he turned into Uncle Jeffery, would you still want him as your father?”

“My cousins still see him,” I pointed out.

“Yes because he is their father and I don’t get it either. I wouldn’t want to see my own dad if he were beating my mother and I still don’t really want to see him because he left her when I was eight because he didn’t like having two handicapped children and he wanted me institutionalized and he was always insulting me when he fight with her about me and I’d hear every word he’d say and then he tries to walk back in my life when he finds out how “normal” I have gotten and guess what, I wasn’t interested in having him in my life and he was shocked how I could remember his words and how I understood every word he said back then even though I couldn’t talk. He couldn’t believe I could remember that far back clearly. Really, who wouldn’t remember any hurtful things being said about them?”

“Why did he treat you different?” I asked.

“Because I was developmentally delayed I had some sort of developmental problem.”

“But what about Uncle John, why did he single you out and not him?”

“He didn’t like having him around either and also fought about him. I was just loud and a terror and I ripped the house apart and broke things and John was quiet and kept to himself and I was more outward. I always climbed on everything and he didn’t. He was very passive, I was aggressive. I swear my Dad was maybe OCD because he was more concerned about the house and he didn’t like things being broken or taken apart or moved out of place or walls being dirtied with feces and food or wallpaper being peeled or listening to the cupboard doors banging and the doors too and I did that all day and it would break them eventually. It all gave him distress so he had more problems with me than he did with John because I also threw up food and could only eat soft foods and I couldn’t eat regular food like everyone else. Then at age seven they find out what the problem is and I had food allergies so I was put on medicine for it and I eventually outgrew the problem. Plus I liked grabbing people and I always hit my head and grab food off plates. Goodness, John was an easier child and my Mom has told me so too.”

I already knew all of this about Mom. Even Grandma has told me stories about her about when she was little.

Yes you guessed it, my grandparents are divorced and I have a step grandfather but I still call them my grandparents and call him grandpa. He feels like my real Grandpa because he was always around when they would come see us or when we go see them. I was twelve when I finally made the connection he was not my real grandfather because he didn’t make my mother. I knew her dad left her mother when she was eight but I still didn’t make the connection. When I told Mom what I had figured out, she was shocked I didn’t know because she figured I already knew because I knew her father left her mother when she was little so she figured I would know Phillip was my step grandfather. I probably already knew but didn’t realize until that age. I just hadn’t thought about it before.

I also call Mom’s stepfather and her mother “her parents” when I refer to him and Grandma. My real Grandpa lives in Texas and he remarried and had other kids with her. He has dropped by our house once and I have seen him at family reunions. Mom won’t even call him dad. She just calls him Frank. When he dropped by for a visit, he made a “joke” about my diapers and it upset me and Mom yelled at him about it. He then told her “You’re normal but you don’t understand a joke” and then Dad stepped in telling him “It was a very bad joke and you’re an asshole, no wonder she won’t call you dad. Also the fact you walked out on your family like a coward because you didn’t have two perfect children so instead of trying to help them, you walked out and wanted nothing to do with them until she was normal enough for you. Coward move there you did.” Then there was a fight between them and Dad kicked him out telling him to not come back. Dad thinks he got his bluntness from my mother because he learned to talk like that because some people really do deserve to hear the hardcore truth. He will joke he has been cursed and he said he did a Mom thing. I don’t remember what the joke was but I remember it upset me and I didn’t know he was joking until he said he was and Mom was already yelling at him about it. He feels like a stranger to me anyway because I never saw him a lot and I hear he sees his other grand kids often from his wife’s side whom he married after leaving my grandmother. But he is about as old as her, sixties. Last time I saw him was this summer at the family reunion and I remembered him as the mean guy who made fun of me about my medical problem. He didn’t even apologize either for what happened at home. “Hey Natalia, still in diapers,” he said and I didn’t even say anything. He also told me at least my mom has normal kids and I remember thinking I wish I was normal. When I told Mom what her real father told me, Mom just said “he can never say anything appropriate can he, ignore him.” Then she went on telling me he has no clue about our lives and what we have all been through with me and what would he think if she told him she still wets the bed sometimes and Brian has helped taken care of us or that Kelly had problems with reading and writing.

“What do I do with this food?” I asked Mom.

“Wrap it and put in the fridge,” she said.

I got out of my seat and got the tin foil out of the drawer and put it over my plate and ripped it and put the tin foil back. I put my plate in the fridge.

“Don’t forget to take your odor pill,” Mom reminded as I was heading upstairs.

I went back to the cupboard where all our pills are kept and took a tablet out of the bottle and chewed it and put the bottle back and went upstairs. By then Dad wasn’t thumping around anymore. I heard Kelly come home finally.

I just got on the computer and logged on AOL. I did a search on adult babies this time and found websites about it. I found a website called DPF and it stood for Diaper Pail Friends. Kelly came in our bedroom. She showed me her trophy.

“Wow,” was all I said and I went back to what I was doing.

“I am going to take a quick shower before your time comes,” said Kelly. “I left cake in the fridge for each of you.”

I browsed around and I found these diapers called Dampers. I wondered if they were for real, they resembled Pampers and even the picture on the box looked familiar too that resembled them.

“You don’t care do you?” said Kelly.

“Huh?” was all I asked.

“I am talking to you and you are glued to the computer barely saying anything. That’s the way you are.”

“Uh yeah, uh huh,” I didn’t know what to say to that.

I looked at items there and they were onesies and footies and bibs, bottles, pacifiers. I heard Kelly showering as I looked. I even found a thing called Rosters and I selected Washington and read rosters from there. They were just people talking about their diaper experience and it said how long they had been a member for.

I looked around more on the website and I found a story called My Brother Ricky and read it. It was a regression story and somehow Ricky turns into a baby and he even loses his mental age and starts to think like a baby at the end and his mother takes care of him. It was some computer program he used to make him regress and it started out with him having accidents. I read it until eight and then it was time for me to shower. Kelly was already out. She asked if she could get on the computer while I shower as I was grabbing my pajamas and clean diaper.

“Sure but don’t lose my spot,” I said.

Kelly got on and she minimized the browser and opened a new browser. I went in the bathroom and took my shower. While I was showering, I heard Mom and Dad yelling again in their room.

“What the hell is all this?” Mom screamed. “Glenny, pick it up now. This better be all picked up or you will sleep in my pee again or have it be on the couch. Is this what you are like if you don’t drink?”

“No, work has been so damn stressful, my boss is a prick,” Dad yelled. “Now my friend is too. Why can’t you be more supportive? I don’t get mad at you for your episodes and you do these things too.”

“You are able to hold me down until I am all calm and you do get mad at me about it,” Mom yelled. “I can’t do that to you because you are bigger and stronger than me. Now I am having a turn being mad at you about it.”

There was more yelling and it was about work and beer and Mom’s problem. Mom was yelling back at him about his problem and dad was yelling about how she always has to get back at him about everything making it all a competition and how she is full of wrath. I had lost count how many fights they have had because I was unsure if I should count their typical fights as one or not and if that one night counted when they had one or not.

Then there was no more fighting.

I finished showering and got out. I dried off and put on a clean diaper. I brushed my teeth too and then rinsed my mouth and left the bathroom with a towel over me and my used diaper in my hand. I tossed it in the garbage in my room which was half full again. I fill it up pretty fast because my diapers take up more space than baby diapers do and I do go through many diapers. I had maybe used fifteen already. If it weren’t for the new ones, I would have had more in the trash and I would have had to take it out already and put in a new trash liner. I was already halfway through my new diapers and we had just gotten them two days ago. I told you I go through a lot.

Kelly had the window open and she was on the computer.

“I’m done with my shower,” I said. “Hey why is the window open?”

“It stinks in here. It smells like the bathroom. You should start throwing your diapers away out in the garage.”
Kelly closed out of the internet and left my page open.

“That stuff again. I had to clear your history again. You’re not going to turn into one of those weird people are you?”
“No,” I said.

“Good. I couldn’t imagine my own sister turning into one.”

“What’s so wrong with it anyway?” I asked.

“It’s sick.”

“How?”

Kelly shrugged. “I don’t know, it just seems sick. Do they have sex with real children?”

“What?” I was shocked.

“They like to pretend to be babies and do they have sex and imagine having it with a child?”

“Huh?”

I couldn’t believe Kelly was asking such a ludicrous question. I told you she is dumb sometimes. I like to say she is a dumb blond because she is a blond, she has blond hair. But yet she can do her school work at her level.

“But it’s obvious, they dress like babies.”

“I don’t see how that has to do with real children,” I said.

I went back to reading My Brother Ricky. Kelly didn’t say anything else. I felt puzzled by her comments. None of them made sense.


I am getting closer to having Glen doing something so stupid. It might be in the next chapter or after that.

Re: Natalie vs Her Parents chapter 19

Good job, keep it up. Doing a goods job with the dialogue and the character interactions so far. Keep up the good work.

BabyChris121675

Re: Natalie vs Her Parents chapter 19

This was a good chapter. Glen needs to find some other way to vent his anger. Working out really hard works for me. Glen should consider something similar. It is a lot cheaper to get a gym membership than replace the couch after you cut it up.

I look forward to the next chapter.