Jun 072015
 

When I’m not phone-boning with naughty boys, I spend a day in town every week doing life coaching. Luckily, it’s pretty easy for me to keep the two occupations pretty separate in my head.

Until last week . . .

diaper regression punishmentOne of my life coaching clients is an overwhelmed single mom with two teenage boys and a toddler girl. The oldest teen boy, Tomas, has been skipping school lately and we had worked out an agreement: when he goes to school, mom lets him keep an 8:00 p.m. curfew. When he skips school, it moves up to 7:00 p.m.

So I was there one afternoon when he hadn’t gone to school and he was about to take off on his bike. He told his mom he was going to go hang with his friends and as he got on his bike and started to ride off, I spoke up (mom was too discouraged to say anything) and said, firmly, “7:00.”

He stopped and defiantly shot back “8:00!”

And that’s where all you diaper regression
phone sex
callers took over my brain.

bad boy in diapers phone sexI stepped in front of the bike and looked him square in his adolescent eyes.

“Listen here, young man. There are only three types of people who don’t go to school in this world. The first set are those who have graduated from high school. Are you a high school graduate?”

He looked at me like I was an idiot. “Duh, no!”

“The second group are dropout losers. Are you a dropout loser?”

He sneered. “Hell, no!”

I smiled sweetly and continued. “Then you must belong to the last group of people that doesn’t attend school: babies and toddlers like your little sister. Get OFF that bicycle right now and into the house, because babies don’t ride bikes.” His younger brother Timmy was watching with a delighted grin. Mom was smiling pretty broadly herself by about now.

“WHAT?!? You’ve gotta be kidding!”

“If you don’t get in that house right now, the whole neighborhood is going to hear me say that you are a baby boy going back into diapers. NOW.” Timmy was literally rolling laughing. His mother’s mouth was open in shock. Even his baby sister was laughing, because Timmy was laughing so hard.

In a high state of pisstivity, he abandoned his bike and went into the house, heading for his bedroom to slam the door.

mom phone sex“WAIT A MINUTE,” I pulled him back. “Where do you think you’re going? The nursery is this way!” I led him to his sister’s nursery. “You don’t attend school, you’re not a graduate or a dropout loser, so you have to agree you’re a baby. No more school for you. From now on, you’re going to stay home, wear diapers, drink from a bottle, watch Teletubbies, and let Timmy babysit you when your mom has to go out. Now let’s get those pants off, because I’ve got your diaper right here. You won’t be needing big boy pants or the toilet again for a long, long time!

The look on his face was priceless.

Kisses,
Mommy Emma, part-time life coach and adolescent wrangler

css.php