Christopher:Incontinent Rage

by David C. Chipman

Preface

The following story takes place in the near future, in a society which used to respect the personal rights of its children. However, concerns about youth violence made the protection of the rights of children more difficult to maintain.

From the age when children enter their first educational institution, at the beginning of Junior Kindergarten, they can be treated any way those who are responsible for them wish, including the use of physical, mental, and psychological abuse.

This story is a warning for our society, as it begins to fear its youth, and feels that a return to strict control of children is required. Such a philosophy puts children with disabilities at the mercy of those who were responsible for them. Sometimes, the "behaviours" of disabled children could be considered quite displeasing to some adults who were not accustomed to dealing with children whose disabilities caused such behaviours. This could lead to mistreatment.

This story is a mix of fact and fiction, but even the facts have been mixed to produce fictional situations (that is not to say, however, that the situations in this story have not, do not, or could not happen).

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Wells Hill Park

Two little boys played together in the park bordered by St. Clair Avenue West, and Wells Hill, in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, under the bright early September sunshine. They ran around the park, kicking a brightly-coloured dense foam soccer ball, and squealing with gleeful excitement. The ball was occasionally shot below one of the two ropes hung between two sets of trees. One of the boys would cheer with victory. The other child's shoulders would temporarily droop in defeat, then that child would good-natured-ly threaten to get his partner back. No score was kept since the game was just for fun and exercise.

One of the boys was named Christopher Michael Henison, he had straight blond hair that seemed to bob up and down as he ran. His sweaty hair was cut horizontally just above his ears, the rest below that line closely shaved off. His big blue eyes shining in the sunlight, from under the oily bangs that covered his forehead. He was less then a month past his fifth birthday. Christopher was wearing slightly baggy almost-knee-length dark blue shorts, a sky blue and white horizontally-striped loose knit short-sleeved shirt. He wore yellow-and-white sneakers, light-brown socks, under lightweight greyish-white translucent-plastic leg splints that wrapped around the sides and the backs of his legs, from below Christopher's knees into his shoes. There were off-white straps that held his legs in their respective brace visible below the knee, the other strap, at the bottom of each brace was covered by his sneakers, almost invisible under the tongue of his sneaker. His clothes covered a vaguely muscular frame, especially his upper body.

Christopher's friend and playmate's name was Jeremy Daniel Mathers, he had brown curly hair with green eyes and was five-and-a-quarter years old. He was wearing a green tank-top with a white-stencil firebird on the front and yellow thigh-length shorts, red-and-white sneakers, with short white laces, and navy socks.

The boys had been friends and neighbours for as long as either of them could remember. Their parents had met at a local prenatal-and-child-development class at a nearby church, before the boys were even born, and the boys themselves first 'met' as toddlers and became fast friends in nursery-/pre-school, since their parents had sent them to the same daycare, and the boys now went to the same school. Since neither had any siblings they were like brothers. They fought like siblings too, occasionally, but they also watched out for each other.

The boys' mothers, Margo Henison, and Joanne Mathers watched their boys play, out of the corner of their eye's. Meanwhile, they chatted about various things, especially about readiness for the upcoming school-year. Both Christopher and Jeremy had senior kindergarten to look forward to, in fact, starting the next day.

Margo Janet Henison had long straight blonde hair that framed an oval face, which had bright and warm green eyes looking out of it. She was a self-assured 35 years of age. She wore a white T-shirt, which had a flaming black circle over her left breast, underneath that, was small lettering "Circle Software: The Best Names in Computer Games," She wore navy-coloured shorts, a grey fanny-pack, brown socks and white jogging shoes. A small simple chrome-plated Cross hung on a thin chain around her neck.

Christopher had left his backpack behind his mother, when he went to play ball with his friend. The back pack surreptitiously carried "medical supplies" that he might need during an extended outing.

Joanne Heather Mathers had short straight brown hair that curled at the tips, and hazel eyes that twinkled as she spoke with her neighbour. She wore a T-shirt that had "CN Tower Stair-Climb for the United Way" emblazoned across the front, with a black silhouette of Toronto's skyline, the CN Tower being most prominent, in the centre. The T-shirt was loosely stuffed into the waist band of a pair of khaki shorts. Joanne wore thick-soled walking shoes, and black socks. Joanne was two years younger than Margo.

Christopher was running flat out when chasing Jeremy, his braces occasionally click-clacked together as he ran breathlessly, but he was enjoying every bit of it.

Jeremy was keeping up with the ball playfully kicking it ahead of himself when Christopher came close to it.

"Jeremy! Chris is slower than you. So slowdown, please!", Joanne called from the park bench, trying to maintain the fairness of the game her son and his longtime friend were playing.

"Sorry!" Jeremy hollered, with barely a break in his pace.

"Jeremiah Daniel!" Joanne roared across the park a moment later as she stood up, and sharply beckoned to her son, "Come here!"

Jeremy trotted over to where Joanne was standing, with his head bowed, "Yes, Mommy," he said humbly. When his mother hollered both his first and middle-name, Jeremy knew he was in trouble.

Christopher flopped on the grass, during the stop in play, to catch his breath.

Joanne stood up with her hands on her hips, looking down sternly at her son, saying firmly, "Jeremy, it's not fair for Christopher if you're running so fast, he has no chance to keep up!"

Jeremy looked up at his mother, tears of sorrow filling his eye's, "I'm sorry … " he said, his voice breaking.

Joanne put a hand on Jeremy's shoulder, saying "OK, honey, just remember, OK?"

Jeremy nodded, "I'll try … " he replied, wiping away the moisture on his cheeks, smiling sadly.

Joanne patted her son's shoulder, saying, "OK, run along now,"

Christopher and Jeremy continued to run and play for a short while longer.

Margo beckoned Christopher over to her, "Come here, Chris," she called.

Christopher sighed, "Coming mommy!", he called as he came to his mother's side, and then he stood, somewhat patiently, next to the park bench.

Jeremy ran to catch the ball, scooped it up in his arms, and carried it in his mother's direction.

Margo smiled, "Did you have fun?"

Christopher nodded, grinning happily, "Yeah!"

"That's good. Now it's time for your Catheterisation, honey," she whispered.

Christopher's shoulders drooped as he whined, "Awww!" Since Christopher wanted to continue playing, medical necessities were not his top priority at the moment. They almost never are in a five-year-old child busy at play. Christopher was too busy at play to notice that he needed certain things 'taken care of'.

Margo smiled warmly as she picked Christopher up and held him on her hip, "C'mon, little-one … " she said tenderly, as she slung Christopher's backpack over her opposite shoulder, while she felt her son instinctively wrap his legs around her waist, and put one arm around behind her back.

Christopher frowned and thumped his free hand, which he held in a relaxed fist, on his thigh, "I wanna play ball!" he whined, as Margo carried him to the bathroom.

Margo looked down into her son's face, "Do you want to be in the hospital again with another 'bladder bug'? Do you remember how sick it made you?"

Christopher had a Urinary Trace Infection, which his mother referred to as a 'bladder bug' when talking about it with him, early in the summer, just after school had ended in June. The infection hospitalized him, hooked up to an intravenous drip. He had hated the restriction of physical activity caused by the presence of the intravenous pole, and the needle in his hand. He had also missed playing outside in the warm late June weather. Christopher's frown deepened at the memory, and he broke eye contact with his mother, looking down at her feet instead, "No, but…"

"Well then?" Margo asked, as she sniffed the air, and patted Christopher's bottom, "I think you need your diaper changed anyhow," she whispered in her son's ear, "You're messy, I can smell it,"

Recognizing defeat, Christopher sighed, and wiggled his bottom as he rested his head on his mother's shoulder.

Margo carried her son to the public washroom in silence.

Christopher stood in the wheelchair-accessible toilet stall with his hands clasped together on his head, out of his mother's way while she was changing him.

Margo busied herself getting the needed equipment out of the backpack, "Want to help with your Catheterisation, Chris?" She asked pleasantly over her shoulder, while she retrieved a fresh disposable diaper, a transparent flexible transparent silicone-rubber tube, called a catheter, in a paper and clear-green-coloured plastic wrapper, and what looked like a painted-metal squeeze-tube.

"I wanna play outside!" Christopher whined sharply, suddenly dropping his arms down close at his side, and stomping a foot, suddenly not wanting to be of any assistance in the performance of this currently unwanted activity.

"Christopher! Stop it!" Margo snapped.

Christopher whimpered softly, bowing his head in submission, knowing when he was starting to try his mother's patience too much.

"Chris, stand facing the toilet, and unfasten your shorts, then let them drop, please," Margo said gently.

Christopher did as he was told, in a foul mood, revealing the source of the equally foul smell. He wore a disposable diaper because he had a disability called Spina-Bifida that prevented him from reliably controlling his bladder or bowels.

He had been raised by his parent's not to worry about his lack of toilet-training, since it was just a fact of life for him, and nothing for him to be ashamed of.

But this part of his disability also meant that his bladder frequently had some urine left in it, which had to be removed manually through a procedure called Clean Intermittent Catheterisation, to lower the chance of getting bladder infections.

On the slim diaper Christopher wore there was a faded random pattern of simple drawings of children in various play activities. The drawings were brightly coloured on the fresh diaper since it acted as an unobtrusive wetness indicator, which became more faded and indistinct where the diaper absorbed more urine. There were two wide, but relatively transparent adjustable tapes, like Scotch tape, one on each side on the front. The tapes were really only noticed by feel, or if they caught the light at the right angle.

Margo crouched behind Christopher, reaching around in front of her son, feeling for the tapes on his diaper, "Good boy," she said as she undid them, accompanied by soft short ripping sounds. Her warmth and tenderness with this simple activity expressing her deep maternal love for him.

Christopher smiled contentedly, feeling forgiven for his previous sourness, not to mention more comfortable, now that the well-used diaper was coming off. Christopher had a momentary erection as the cooler and drier air touched his wet genitals.

Margo let the front of the diaper flop way from her son's lower abdomen, then caught it, and carefully lowered the diaper away from Christopher's middle, and pulled it back out between Christopher's legs, keeping the sizable soft brown stretched-oval-shaped mess inside near the back of Christopher's diaper in his diaper, between the short faecal barrier panels that ran through the length of the crotch of the diaper, on both sides, "Stand or sit to go peepee?" Margo asked Christopher, looking up at him over his shoulder, smiling warmly, his sourness forgotten or certainly forgiven.

"Stand …, Please," Christopher replied simply. Christopher's erection soon relaxed, and his penis hung limply in front of and between his legs.

Margo got one last thing out of her son's backpack, a plastic can containing lightly-scented disinfectant moist wipes, then smiled at him, "OK, honey. Open your legs, as much as you can, please," Margo said.

Christopher obediently spread his legs, holding onto the stall-wall mounted grab bar for balance.

"Good boy," Margo said as she started cleaning the mess off Christopher's bottom and from between his legs with one of the wipes, "OK?"

Christopher squirmed and softly squealed, giggling humourlessly while his mother cleaned his rear, "It's cold and it tickles!"

"Almost done, Mr. Giggle-guts," Margo said warmly. When she finished, she dropped the used wipe beside the used diaper laying open on the floor, then she took another out and handed it to Christopher, "Wash your hands and then your birdie, honey," she said softly, using the young-child's word for male private parts

Christopher nodded, then did as he was told, washing his hands and cleaning the sheen of urine from his middle, smiling with pride and feeling like a big kid, because he was helping to taking care of himself. Christopher's penis stiffened again while he washed himself, and softly exclaimed, "I think I've got another stiffy!"

While Christopher washed himself, Margo took some toilet paper, and squeezed some clear water-based lubricant jelly, from the squeeze-tube, onto it, then she removed the catheter from its wrapper, and rubbed the tip-end of it in the jelly, "Ready?", she asked, ignoring her son's comment.

Christopher nodded absent-mindedly, his penis relaxing as he let go of it, saying contentedly, "Uh-huh …,"

Margo squatted with her knees apart, with Christopher standing between them at the toilet, then she catheterized hin. Margo did this by putting the catheter into his bladder, through his urethra, then she applied gentle pressure to Christopher's abdomen. She let Christopher hold the funnel end of the catheter over the toilet. Urine soon started to flow through the transparent tube and into the toilet, tinkling softly while the thin continuous watery golden stream hit the surface of the water in the bowl, "Breath deep," she said softly as the flow was slowing down.

Christopher took a couple deep breaths, and things started flowing again.

Margo said softly, "Good boy!", Soon, the urine stopped flowing for good, even as Christopher tried breathing as deep as he could to make more come out, then she removed the catheter, having drained his bladder.

Christopher relaxed his breathing as he tried to turn around and hug Margo, but his shorts down around his ankles hindered him somewhat.

Margo dangled the catheter over the toilet, and shook it out, urine dripping from the bottom end, "Hold on, Honey. We gotta get ya dressed first … Silly-boy," Margo said warmly.

Christopher giggled absentmindedly, putting his hands over his mouth with mild innocent embarrassment, whispering, "Oops!-Sorry,"

"That's OK," Margo said as she snugly diapered her son, with some directed assistance from him, then she pulled his shorts up over his now comfortably diaper-clad bottom, tucked his T-shirt inside his shorts, then fastened his shorts, and zipped his fly.

Margo opened her arms wide to embrace her son from behind.

Christopher easily turned around in his "Mama"'s embrace and hugged her in return.

"Play!" Christopher cheered, his hands shooting up toward the ceiling, feeling comfortable again, and wanting to return to the activity that had been interrupted.

Margo dumped the mess in Christopher's used diaper into the toilet and flushed, then she put the used wipes inside it, and wrapped the diaper around the wipes, wrapped and taping it up inside itself, "Well, first I need to clean up your catheter gear … "

Christopher smiled hopefully, his face full of sweetness and innocence, "Then I can play?"

Margo opened the stall door, and going to the washbasin on the other side of the public washroom, "Then we're gonna go home, but you can certainly play there,"

Christopher frowned spitefully, grumbling and stomping around in a small circle next to his mother.

Margo seeming ignored her son while she cleaned his medical equipment up and put it away in his backpack, along with putting the now largely just wet, disposable diaper in it as well, tightly rolled-up and taped-up upon itself,

"I wanna play outside! In the park!" Christopher exclaimed in frustration.

Margo calmly slung her son's back pack over her shoulder, and gently scooped him up in her arms, "You can play when we get home instead, out in the backyard even, now let's go …"

Christopher frowned with displeasure, as he squirmed in his mother's arms, loudly whining miserably, "I wanna play ball in the park more!"

Margo spoke with gentle firmness in Christopher's ear, almost sounding sorry for being pushed to this extreme by her son's repeated misbehaviour, but certainly feeling fed-up as she gave her son's bottom a couple firm but not uncomfortable quick pats in warning, "Christopher, do I have to spank your bum …?"

Christopher stopped squirming, not wanting to get a firm swat to his bottom, his eye's wide and round with surprise as he gazed up at his mothers' almost impassionate face, "No … "

"Then stop it," Margo rumbled softly, meaning it.

Christopher went limp in Margo's arms.

Margo smiled warmly, "That's better,"

Christopher frowned at his mother, feeling frustrated at his wants being actively defied, as she carried him out of the bathroom.

Margo looked around, and she smiled down at him, ignoring his mood, saying, "I think Jeremy and his mommy have gone home already …,"

Christopher looked around, following his mother's gaze, "Oh," he said, his sour mood broken at his friends absence. Now he just felt sad since he now had no playmate to play with at the park.

"Time for us to head home too," Margo said.

"OK …," Christopher said resignedly, snuggling up in his mother's arms, "I'm sorry, Mommy,"

"I know you are," Margo said, understanding her son's wish to continue playing in the park for the foreseeable future, until he got hungry of course, then she knew things would change completely.

Christopher's face broke into a small smile up at his mother.

Margo smiled back, "Macaronis, honey?"

"Yeah!" Christopher exclaimed, waving his arms in the air, grinning expectantly.

"OK, let's get home then," Margo said, laughing gently

Christopher rested his head on Margo's shoulder, hugging his mother around the neck.

Margo smiled at her son, "Drowsy?"

Christopher nodded, with a small frown on his face.

Margo stroked Christopher's back, "That's OK, honey. Playing ball is hard work …"

Christopher drowsily nodded in agreement, then he was soon snoozing on Margo's shoulder.

Margo held Christopher close, as she carried him home. Margo knew that her son's crankiness in the bathroom had been a definite sign of exhaustion, but of course she had to make sure he behaved, just the same.

70 Lyndhurst Avenue, the Henison Family Home

The Henisons lived in a modestly-sized home with the two-car garage attached to the front of the house, the front door was on the side of the garage. There was a sleek sedan automobile parked in front of one of the garage doors. In front of the other was a young child's brightly painted tricycle with an orange triangular flag, attache to the back with a long flexible pole, blowing in the light wind that blew down the street.

Marg unlocked the front door, entering her access-code on the keypad next to the front door with her free hand:

847045877

Bee! -Beep!-click!

Margo opened the door, and carried Christopher inside, leaving him fast asleep. Margo looked up at the second floor, to see if her husband had heard her entry, and might even put their son to bed for her. Margo didn't get a response, so she figured her husband hadn't heard their entry. Margo took hold of the banister for the circular metal-and-wood stairs going up to the second floor, and carried her son upstairs.

Christopher's bedroom

Margo carried Christopher into his bedroom, and laid her son on his stomach, without pulling back the covers, on his bed. His face was turned toward the door. Margo took his shoes and braces off, laying them on the floor next to his bed.

Christopher smiled sweetly in his sleep, almost as if he felt more comfortable with his feet freed from the position in which they were held by the splints. Margo gave her sleeping son a light peck on the side of the cheek, and softly cooed in his ear, "Sweet dreams, Chris,"

Christopher slept on a white-enamel toddler-bed, which was covered with "Theodore Tugboat" sheets, the pillow in a matching pillowcase, and there was a matching comforter that was folded up at the foot of the bed.

Theodore Tugboat was the title character in a vid program for children that Christopher and Jeremy were eager fans of.

The bed was along the far wall of his bedroom, across from the door. In the corner of the bed, next to the pillow, was a piled-up menagerie of plush stuffed animals. On top of the pile, having pride-of-place, was a plush green turtle stuffed hand-puppet Christopher named Franklin, after the title character of one of Christopher's other favourite vid programs.

On the wall opposite from the door was a red and white pennant for the "Hillcrest Hawks," the little league baseball team that Christopher had dreams of playing for. Beside it was a white and blue pennant for the "Toronto Blue Jays," the Major League Baseball team in Toronto.

There was a small chair next to the bed, shaped from a single piece bright red ABS plastic.

Along the wall on the right was a brightly painted wooden dresser, with three rows of two drawers each, each painted a different bright colour.

There was a baseball bat beside a glove, with a baseball inside it, on top of the dresser.

Beside the dresser sat a white plastic package, more or less hidden from the door by its location beside the dresser, at the end far from the door. The sides and ends of the package were white and had a powder blue silhouette along the top and bottom edges of the sides. The bottom edge of the silhouette around the top was designed in the shape of children engaged in various childhood activities. The print on front of the package, "Youth Incontinence Protection System for Boys, Small, 36 UV-Biodegradable Disposable Youth Diapers," which was also the same colour as the silhouette, encircled the word "yippees". The text was printed in a child like printing, each letter printed at an odd angle, the occasional one was upside-down or backwards. On the upper -right corner of the same visible side, below the silhouette was a yellow billowing-pennant graphic, containing the words, printed with black letters, "NEW! Extra absorbency! Now Yippees are Daytime-thin & Nighttime-thirsty! YIPPEE!". The other visible side showed a diagram of a diaper, listing and pointing-out its features (" wide transparent-on-contact refastenable tapes to hide the "diaper look" of fastenable tapes, pop-up faecal barriers to hold in bowel movements and heavy wettings, triple-stranded elasticized leg gathers and waistband keep fluid inside the diaper, complete absorbent-material coverage (including the sides to prevent night-time leaks), the active-child pattern fades with the increased wetness to show when the diaper needs changing"). The hidden sides of the package had the same things , but the text was in French.

Beside the package was a closet, the door was half-open.

On the outer-side of the door was a colourful rectangular child-growth-and-development poster hanging from a hook by a string. On the poster there was space for various 'developmental milestone' notes, some of which were filled-in and dated, beside the actual ruler drawn down the middle of it. The ruler had several horizontal magic-marker strokes and a date and weight recorded beside each.

Just visible inside the closet was a pair of bright red roller-blades resting against a plastic cylinder, Christopher's odour-free diaper pail. The diaper pail was plastered with colourful stickers. On the other side of the cylinder was a child-sized hockey stick made from two pieces of lacquered-wood. Christopher's one-piece hooded snowsuit hung on a wood-and-metal coat hanger hung from the chromed-plated-pipe hanging rod that ran across the width of the closet. The snowsuit was blue with black patches covering the shoulders, the neck muffler and the knees. The black plastic zipper ran up from just above the legs until it reached just below the chin. The hood on the snowsuit hung down the back. Beside the snowsuit were hung a couple of dress shirts, and a child-size suit-and-dress-pant set.

Christopher's bright blue-green rubberized-fabric, woolen-lined winter boots, with thick black rubber soles, each fastened with two green fabric velcro straps over the feet of each, were on the shelf above the hanging rod in the closet. A plastic bag poked out the top of each boot. Beside the boots, there was a pile of baseball caps, under a winter toque, and a flourescent orange bicycle/roller-blading helmet with a chin guard. Beside the pile of hats, there was a blue hockey helmet with a clear plastic face guard, and a white elasticised-fabric strap with an attached chin guard underneath.

On the other side of the room, was Christopher's bedroom window, and under the window sil was a large multicoloured toy-box made of heavy plastic, shaped like a pirate's treasure-chest.

To the left, behind the open bedroom door, was a bookcase, with story books, and books about machines and how they work.

The floor was made of strips of wood, stained a light honey-brown colour.

The baseboard, window frame, and the doorframes were painted white.

The walls and ceiling were covered in a wallpaper that had a brightly coloured, seemingly random pattern of cars, boats, planes and trains, each made of differently coloured simple shapes on a white background.

In the middle of the ceiling was the bedroom light with three translucent cream-white globes close together on a circular white plate. The light was off, so all the light in the room came streaming in through the window.

This was the bedroom of a physically-active, but mildly disabled young boy.

Margo got her son's back pack off her shoulder. She retrieved the used diaper, checked to make sure it was still tightly wrapped up, then shoved it down through the slot on the top of the diaper pail.

There was a momentary soft hum and then a hiss as the air was sucked out through a deodorant filter in the lid of the closed pail, after an ultraviolet lamp, also in the lid, quickly decomposed the plastic cover of the diaper, largely leaving just the wet and soiled absorbent material and globs of fluid-retaining gel in the sealed and tightly-packed diaper pail insert, which then dropped free into the pail proper. There was barely a foul smell left behind in Christopher's room.

Margo closed the closet door, as she left the room to go and make supper in the kitchen downstairs.

64 Stibbard Avenue, Martha Mathison's Home

Mrs. Martha Jane Mathison was a pleasant-looking lady, in her late twenties. Her auburn hair was cut short. She wore a loose purple T-shirt, and a striped skirt. She wore dark brown imitation-leather sandals, no socks.

Martha sighed deeply. Her uncle had called, and he was giving her a job.

He wanted her to show up the next day at the school which he had been appointed to the previous month, after its previous director died in a car accident. Her uncle was going to begin a new strict discipline policy starting this school year, starting the next day. On hearing the news about the new discipline policy, on hearing about it, the previous senior kindergarten teacher had angrily resigned, practically on the spot, leaving a space that had to be quickly filled. Her uncle knew that she would do his bidding, so he quickly hired her.

There was a knock at the front door.

Martha quickly got up to answer it, it was her boyfriend of five months, Jack Fredricks, "Oh, Jack!"

Jack Marvin Fredricks was a burly man, with close-cropped brown hair, and thick eyebrows. He wore a muscle shirt with a muscle-car emblazoned across his chest. His tight jeans seemed to squeeze his legs, but he moved quite freely.

"Hey, how's my bitch!?" Jack said, a little too cheerfully.

Martha frowned over her shoulder, as she walked away from the door after opening it for her latest flame, "Your bitch, as you persist in calling me, is about to have a job . . . "

Jack smiled, "What ya gonna be doing?"

"Teaching senior kindergarten,"

Jack's smile widened, "You think I might be able to get in on the 'action' somehow?"

Martha frowned, as she turned, and placed her hand on the stair post at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the second floor of the house, "They're children, Jack!"

Jack's smile disappeared, "Martha, I can get big bucks for kiddie porn-the younger, cuter, and sweeter the better . . . "

Martha frowned, "Jack, I won't do it,"

Jack frowned, "I'm sure you will,"

Christopher's bedroom

Garry Andrew Henison was 34. He had short brown hair which was tied back in a short ponytail. He had blue eyes that looked out warmly from a long face that had a rounded goatee covering the chin. He wore a brightly coloured tie-dyed T-shirt and long khaki shorts, and faux-leather sandals, looking like the typical hippie-turned-geek. He was actually the Chief Executive Officer of the software company he jointly owned with his wife.

Garry looked after the technical programming details of creating the games software the company sold, along with managing the technical-support department.

Margo ran the business side of the operation. Margo took care of the multimedia department which created the graphics and sound used in the programs along with the creation of the documentation that was shipped with them.

Christopher woke up slowly as Garry entered the room,

"Have a good rest, kiddo?" Garry asked cheerfully.

Christopher's head bobbed up-and-down drowsily, smiling innocently at his father.

Garry helped Christopher sit up on the edge of the boy's bed.

Christopher rubbed sleep out of his eye's with the backs of his hands.

"I heard you and Jeremy had a good game at the park . . . ," Garry said conversationally.

Christopher nodded, grinning up at his father as he stood up, "Yeah,"

Garry patted Christopher on the back warmly, "That's good . . . It's almost time for supper,"

"Macaronis, and cheese!" Christopher exclaimed excitedly.

Garry nodded, getting Christopher into his shoes and splints, "Yep! Hungry?"

Christopher nodded, then he ran out of the room and down the stairs, to the ground floor, heading for the dinning room.

Dining Room in the Henison Home

"No running in the house!" Garry hollered sternly after Christopher.

Christopher slowed, and sauntered into the dining room.

The dinning room walls were painted bright yellow with white accents up in each corner. The ceiling was white stucco. The light in the room came from within a translucent yellowed fabric ball that hung over the sizable round table made of dark varnished wood. There was a simple pattern on the ceiling centred around where the light was hung. There were three chairs placed evenly around the table's edge.

Garry pulled out from the table the chair that Christopher sat on, "OK?"

Christopher's place had a blue plastic stretched-oval-shaped placemat, with a yellow plastic plate and clear plastic cup, along with the family's regular day-to-day utensils which his parents also had.

Christopher sat, "Yes, Daddy," he said softly.

Garry smiled and pushed Christopher's chair into the table.

Margo carried a colourfully striped ceramic pot full of steaming hot macaroni and cheese, with croutons mixed in, "Garry, can you get the pot with the broccoli please?"

Christopher sighed, nonplussed at the choice of vegetables.

Garry nodded, and went into the kitchen, coming back out with a matching steaming ceramic pot full of the broccoli that Margo had cooked while mixing the macaroni noodles and the cheese together.

Christopher scrunched his nose up at the sight, "Broccoli? Yech!"

Margo glanced at Christopher, looking nonplussed at her son's reaction, "They're good for you,"

Christopher groaned softly. As far as Christopher was concerned, things that were "good for you" almost invariably tasted awful. Also, as far as Christopher was concerned, the broccoli hadn't been "part of the plan,"

Garry sat at his place at the table

Margo said grace, once Garry sat, then they all started to eat.

"This is good, mommy!" Christopher said, shovelling macaroni into his mouth.

Margo smiled, "Eat it all up then," Margo said.

Christopher emptied his plate.

Garry got up, asking his son, "What do you want for dessert Chris?"

Christopher smiled, cheering, "Ice-cream and chocolate-sauce!"

Margo glanced at her son, frowning, "Magic words?"

Christopher looked at Garry, "Please, Daddy?"

Garry smiled, "Sure, I'll get ya your dessert, Chris,"

Margo gave Christopher a hug, cooing, "That's a good boy! Remember your 'please and thank-you's next time, please,"

Garry went into the kitchen to get his son's dessert prepared, and get dessert for himself.

"OK, mommy. I will," Christopher said.

Garry put the dish full of ice-cream in front of Christopher, "There you go,"

"Thank you," Christopher smiled, and started to eat his ice cream.

Garry and Margo finished off what remained from a tub of yogurt, before it went bad.

Margo smiled at her son, "Tub time!"

Christopher frowned, licking chocolate sauce from his lips, whining, "Aw! Why!"

Margo sighed loudly, "C'mon, Chris. You should be all clean for this year's first day of school,"

Christopher's head drooped, "Hair-wash?"

Margo nodded and smiled warmly, "Head-to-toe, honey-buns,"

Christopher sighed, and stood up, "OK, mommy," he said softly.

Margo patted Christopher on the back, "That a'boy," she said softly.

Christopher trudged up the stairs, his mother following close behind him.

The Bathroom in the Henison Home

Christopher stomped into the bathroom, whining, "Shampoo stings!"

Margo put her hand on Christopher's shoulder, "Not if you keep your eyes' shut …,"

Christopher sighed and grumbled softly.

Margo got a fresh wash-cloth, and bath towel out of the laundry closet, just outside the bathroom, then she came in and piled them on the toilet seat. Margo started running the bath water, and put the plug in the drain once she was satisfied with the temperature, "Start getting undressed while I get your Pyjamas and things," Margo said, then she left, almost closing the door behind her.

Christopher sighed and started to get his clothes off.

Margo came back a few moments later, carrying Pyjamas, a fresh diaper, a catheter in its wrapper, a translucent plastic beaker, and a partly used tube of lubricant jelly.

Christopher was stomping his foot in frustration, having gotten one shoe, sock, and splint off his left foot, but he couldn't untie the shoe on his right foot. He had untied his right shoe improperly, causing the knot in its laces to be tied more tightly

Margo sighed, and squatted down in front of Christopher, she said quietly, "I'll help you," Margo untied Christopher's shoe for him, "OK, you can finish the job?" Margo said as she stood up. Margo then quickly closed the taps in the bathtub, since the water was getting almost too deep to safely bathe her son in.

Christopher nodded, saying, "Thanks, mommy," as he sat on the floor, and pulled his shoe off, then he unfastened the velcro straps on his remaining leg-splint, and pulled it off, then he pulled his sock off, and unbuttoned his shorts, then reached up to Margo, "Mommy?"

Margo picked her son up under his arms.

After Christopher wiggled his bottom a little his shorts ended-up hanging limply from his ankles.

"Kick your shorts off . . . "

Christopher kicked his feet and his shorts fell to the floor, "OK,"

Margo smiled warmly, "Check your bum for messes . . . "

Christopher patted his bottom, suddenly becoming shy for a moment, as he turned his gaze away from his mother, "Yeah, I'm messy . . . "

Margo set Christopher down on the floor, "That's OK, you know. You want to lie down or stand up while I clean your bum?"

Christopher smiled momentarily, being given a choice, then sighed resignedly, "Lie-down…"

Margo smiled warmly, since her son's messy-diaper cleanups were much easier when he was lying down than when he was standing, "OK, down you go . . . "

Christopher smile came back though, as he laid back down on the floor.

Margo opened her son's diaper, softly humming a musical nursery rhyme.

A small grin spread across Christopher's face as he opened his legs, since things were being taken care of. Christopher didn't mind a little babying when that was happening at home. Again, Christopher had an erection, but it quickly relaxed once the diaper was taken away from his privates, and soon the penis just laying there limp again, not pointing up into the air any more.

Margo got a wet wipe out of the container she'd brought with her, and softly sang, as she started wiping unabsorbed urine from Christopher's diaper area, "I'm cleaning up my little bumblebee, then he'll be all nice and comfy …"

Christopher squirmed a little from the cold wet wipe used to wash his middle, and his penis quickly stiffened and relaxed repeatedly, while he giggled in a silly mood, "Buzz-buzz-buzz…"

Margo smiled warmly at her son's silliness, with a sigh, then said, "Roll onto your side, honey …"

Christopher grunted softly, as he rolled onto his side, "OK?"

Christopher had a small bowel movement during supper and had unintentionally squashed it under his bottom and up over his backside in the process of expelling it.

Margo took the used diaper away, and dumped most of the mess in the toilet and flushed it, then she started cleaning her son's bottom, "Great …"

Christopher softly squealed and squirmed.

Margo cooed, "Chilly?"

Christopher nodded somewhat emphatically, softly exclaiming, "Cold!"

Margo sighed as she finished cleaning her son's bottom, rolled up the diaper, with the wet wipes inside, "Well, your bum's clean,"

Christopher grinned, and rolled back onto his back, reaching up toward his mother, "Thank you. Can you please lift me in, Mommy?"

Margo nodded, "Sure," Margo lifted Christopher up under his arms, grunting, "Ugh! You're heavy!"

Christopher bent his legs as his mother lifted him over the side of the tub, then he extended his legs again, and almost stood in the tub.

"Sit down, Chris," Margo said, catching her breath, while lowering her son into the tub.

Christopher sat with a soft splash that echoed around in the enclosure provided by the tiled walls surrounding three sides of the tub. Christopher crossed his legs in the warm water, which was almost up to his 'belly-button', while he gazed up at Margo expectantly, "What you gonna do first!?", he asked excitedly.

Margo unlatched the hand-held showerhead, turning the water on again, "Let's get your hair washed first …," Margo switched the water to the shower head after twisting the faceplate of the shower head, so that the lower-pressure nozzles around the edge would be used. Using the high-pressure nozzle in the middle of the face-plate to wet, then later rinse, her son's hair would have needlessly upset him.

Christopher frowned, his shoulders drooping, as he softly whined in protest.

Margo tested the temperature of the water from the shower head, smiling gently at Christopher, and saying warmly, "Let's get it over with, honey. Close your eyes please," then she patted the hand hold that was a part of the soap-dish in the wall along one side of the tub, "Hold onto here, too, it'll help you keep your balance,"

Christopher grasped the handhold on the wall, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back.

"Good boy!…"Margo cooed softly, not expecting her son to tilt his head back, but understanding that it was a good idea to keep things away from his face and eyes. Margo sprayed her son's hair, until it was drenched and streaming wet, then she turned the water off, and dropped the showerhead in the tub.

"Shampoo now?" Christopher asked, sounding rather nervous at the prospect.

Margo nodded, pouring clear dark yellow L'Oreal Kids shampoo into the palm of her hand, "Yep … Ready?"

"Ya …," Christopher said, not sounding so certain.

Margo gently scrubbed the shampoo into Christopher's hair, until his hair was well lathered all over, finally using a thumb to wipe some from his forehead, "Ready to get it rinsed?"

Christopher squeezed his eyes tightly shut, "Uh-huh … OK," he grunted softly.

Margo checked, herself, to make sure he was ready, "OK, tilt your head back again," Then she plucked the showerhead out of the water, and got the shower running again, absent-mindedly checking the water temperature.

Christopher tilted his head back.

Margo started rinsing the shampoo out of Christopher's hair, scrubbing it out with her free hand, watching as shampoo-suds streamed down Christopher back, but some trickled down his forehead.

Christopher squealed.

Margo stopped immediately, the water coming out of the shower head, made more bubbles from the suds-filled water. As she brushed away dripping wet, and still rather soapy, hair from Christopher's forehead, she asked, "Is everything OK?"

"Yeah," Christopher whimpered, nodding, his eye's shut tightly.

Margo nodded, saying softly, "OK, almost finished your hair-wash," then she completed rinsing the shampoo out of Christopher's hair. Margo then quickly wiped the remaining soap suds from Christopher's face with a dampened facecloth, "All done …"

Christopher smiled expectantly up at Margo, with a somewhat toothy grin on his face, as water dripped from all around his head, from the tip of his nose and his chin, "I love you, mommy,"

Margo smiled at her son, stroking back his water-drenched but sweat-free hair, "Thanks Sweetie. I love you too …, that hair wash wasn't too bad, now was it?"

Christopher grinned, his head upright while he shook it vigorously, almost comically, "Nope! Now the rest, huh?"

Margo nodded, almost laughing at her son's behaviour, "Let's change the water first though, that'll get rid of these shampoo suds," she said, clipping the showerhead back into its holder high above the bathtub.

Christopher, bent forward, saying excitedly, "I'll get the plug!"

Margo smiled, "OK, want your Theodore toy?"

Christopher swept the bottom of the tub with his hand in the soapy and somewhat murky water, under the faucet, "Yeah!-Please," He soon found the plug and gave its metal ring a yank, saying, "Got it!", he watched the water swirling down the drain, dangling the plug in midair.

Margo held one hand open under the bath-tub plug, and held out Christopher's wind-up-toy with the other, "Trade ya," she said.

Christopher dropped the plug in Margo's hand, and took the toy, "Theodore!-Thank you, mommy,"

Margo smiled as she turned the water on, testing the temperature, then she plugged the drain.

Christopher giggled as the water crept back up over his legs, while he wound up his toy, "Let's go, Theodore…"

Margo turned the water off when the water was up over Christopher's knees again, "Ready?" She asked.

Christopher nodded, once he let the toy go in the water, and watched it zoom around in front of him, "Uh-huh-Can I wash myself!?"

Margo nodded and soaped-up the washcloth, then held it out to Christopher, "Here you go,"

Christopher took the washcloth, and scrubbed his chest and arms, grinning proudly.

Margo smiled, "Good Boy, but don't forget to wash your face, and scrub behind your ears,"

Christopher washed behind his ears, and lightly washed his face.

Margo sighed lightly, "Want some help?" she asked, putting her hand out to take the washcloth.

Christopher played absentmindedly with his bath-toy, seemingly ignoring his mother's question, since he considered his self-bathing done, "What?"

"Looks like you could use some help washing your face," Margo said, as she fished the washcloth out of the water, and thoroughly soaped it up again.

Christopher whined softly, pointedly holding his chin down on his chest.

Margo cooed softly, "Look up at me, sweetie,"

Christopher sighed, and looked up at Margo, his eyes closed lightly, resigned to the inevitable.

Margo smiled, and put one hand behind Christopher's head, while she gently scrubbed his face with the other hand holding the cloth, saying, "Rub-a-dub-dub, Chris's in the tub,"

Christopher smiled, almost giggling at his mother's silly rhyme.

Margo then washed the soap off Christopher's face, and said, "OK, you can open your eyes now,"

Christopher's eyes popped open, a big grin on his face, "What about my legs n' stuff?" He asked.

Margo nodded soaping up the cloth again, "Now we'll do them," she said.

Christopher smiled.

Margo scrubbed Christopher's legs under water, then she rinsed them.

Christopher giggled.

Margo smiled, "Could you stand on your knees please?"

"OK," Christopher said, getting up so he was kneeling in the water, on his knees. Christopher's middle was now out of the water.

Margo rinsed the washcloth, and soaped it up again, "Open your legs,"

Christopher shifted around on his knees to open his legs, softly splashing in the water.

Margo thoroughly scrubbed Christopher's middle and his bottom, to clean the parts of his body that spent a fair amount of time in contact with bodily waste.

Christopher smiled up at his mother, "That feels better…"

Margo rinsed out the washcloth, smiling back at her son, "Now I'll rinse ya off," she said, then she did that.

Christopher sighed, "Can I sit down again?"

Margo nodded, as she soaped up the washcloth again, "Sure, now I'll wash your back,"

Christopher knelt in the water, smiling again, now that he wasn't precariously balancing on his knees.

Margo scrubbed Christopher's back, then rinsed the washcloth, and then washed off his back.

Christopher grinned, cheering, "All clean!"

Margo looked playfully suspicious, "I remember a little boy who didn't want a bath…," she said.

Christopher sighed, "That was hair washing, mommy…," he said, gazing up at his mother with an expression of mild exasperation.

Margo smiled, and patted Christopher on the back, "I know…, Wanna pull the plug again? Then I'll get you out,"

Christopher smiled, and yanked out the plug, cheering, "Yeah! Bedtime-story!"

Margo put the shag bath-mat out beside the bathtub, and lifted Christopher out of the tub, and sat him down on it, then she squatted down at Christopher's side, "Lift yourself up, honey,"

Christopher lifted himself up, holding on to the side of the bathtub.

Margo dried Christopher's middle, "Now we gotta get the diaper under ya, eh?", she asked.

Christopher grinned back over his shoulder, nodding and lightly giggling, "Uh-huh! 'don't wanna' go potty on the floor!"

Margo nodded and smiled, with warmth and understanding, as well as a little relief, at her son's continued lack of concern over not being toilet-trained, as she unfolded the diaper she brought with her, "Sit your bum down on the floor, Chris,"

Christopher sat with his legs out in front of him on the bath mat.

Margo placed the diaper open on the bath mat behind her son, "Lift your bum. Then I'll cath. ya,"

Christopher pushed himself up on his hands.

Margo expertly slid the diaper under her son's raised bottom, "OK, bum down again,"

Christopher sat down on the diaper and spread his legs open, softly whining, "I'm chilly!"

Margo put the bath towel around her son's shoulders, like a cape.

Christopher grinned, holding the towel closely around his shoulders, "Better… Like Superman!"

Margo grinned, saying, "Good boy," then she stood up, and washed her hands in the sink.

"But I'm Super-boy! -What ya doin', Mommy?" Christopher asked.

Margo laughed softly, "You are a super boy, no matter what. Now I need to wash my hands before your bedtime cath. honey," Margo said.

Christopher smiled, "Oh yeah, OK,"

Margo knelt down next to her son, after tearing a piece of toilet paper from the roll next to the toilet, and squirted some lubricant jelly on it.

Christopher let his legs close around the small beaker used for his Catheterisation's when they were done without a toilet.

Other then the use of the beaker for urine collection, Margo catheterized Christopher same way she had earlier in the day, at the park.

Christopher sat there while his mother made sure his bladder was emptied one last time before he was put to bed.

"What do we do with this pee, honey?" Margo asked, holding up the beaker when she had finished catheterizing her son.

"Dump it in the toilet, and flush! Please…" Christopher said cheerfully.

"Good Boy," Margo said as she did as Christopher suggested, tossing the toilet paper in first. Then she washed the catheter and the beaker out in the sink, and threw out the catheter.

Christopher grinned, trying to pull the front of the diaper up between his legs, while his mother was busy at the sink.

"I'll get it," Margo said over her shoulder, then she squatted back down beside her son and pulled the front of the diaper up between his legs, unfolding and flattening the front flaps against her son's abdomen, then she brought the back of the diaper up against his bottom, and snugly fastened the tapes around in front. Then she lifted Christopher into a standing position to check the diaper's fit, while she squatted down in front of him, tugging gently with an index finger on the elasticized leg-gathers then with a thumb and index finger on the waistband to make sure things were snug where they should be, "Looks good," she said, smiling.

Christopher smiled contentedly while he slumped over his mother's shoulder, unable control the angle of his feet. When Christopher was born he had occasionally had spasms in the tendon muscles in his ankles, which had made his feet point down, like a ballet dancer continuously "en pointe". But occasionally they pointed up stiffly. In order for him to walk independently, with just leg braces, the tendons in his ankles were cut when he was just a few months old.

Margo helped Christopher sit back down, with his legs crossed, on the bath mat, "Time to dry the rest of you," she said as she dried her son's hair, then the rest of his body.

Christopher grinned up at his mother, "Story?"

Margo smiled, "Sure, Chris. But first, you gotta get your PJ's on, then brush your teeth and take your pills," she said.

Christopher sighed, "Ok…," he brightened considerably when he turned to look at the pyjamas his mother had brought for him, "Trains!"

Christopher's Pyjamas had various types of trains, mostly classic and famous steam engines, printed in rows over a light brown background on the tops and bottoms, with dark-brown edge-trim.

Margo smiled, and handed her son his pyjama-tops, "Put this on,"

Christopher put the pyjama tops over his head then stopped, before getting his arms in, he waggled his fingers menacingly, as he playfully growled, "I'm the pyjama-monster!"

"Oh, no!" Margo cried theatrically, "My little boy's become the pyjama-monster!"

Christopher giggled from under the pyjama-tops, starting to get his head through the opening for his head.

Margo squatted down, and helped Christopher get his head up through the middle hole in his pyjama-tops, "There he is!" Margo said gently, grinning.

Christopher grinned, as he continued giggling and gave Margo a hug.

Margo hugged Christopher back, with a warm contented smile spreading across her face.

Christopher got his damp arms into the sleeves of his Pyjama-tops.

Margo then picked up her son's pyjama-bottoms, "Good-boy… Want me to get these on ya?"

Christopher grinned, and nodded, leaning back on his elbows, his legs out in front of him, "Please…"

Margo got Christopher's pyjama-bottoms over his flopping feet and up his legs, just below his bottom, then she reached out for him, "Come here," she said softly.

Christopher leaned forward, stretching his arms out in front, having done this countless times before.

Margo picked her son up from under his arms, and lifted him onto his feet, "Ugh, you're a big damp sack of potatoes!" she said tenderly.

Christopher rested his head on Margo's shoulder, giggling softly at his mother's silly exaggeration as he leaned against her.

Margo pulled her son's pyjama-bottoms up over his bottom, and gave it a 'love pat,' his diaper making soft popping sounds from underneath the pyjamas, "There ya go. Comfy?"

Christopher nodded, "Uh-huh…"

Margo smiled, "That's good…"

Christopher smiled, all ready for bed… Well almost.

Margo held Christopher upright in front of her at the bathroom sink, "Time to brush your teeth, Chris. Mickey the Molar and his buddies need a bath too, and you still have your bedtime pills to take…"

Christopher giggled at his mother's silly comment about his teeth.

Margo helped him brush his teeth, and take his evening dose of pills.

Christopher grinned, "Story!"

Margo nodded, smiling reassuringly.

Christopher cheered, waving his hands in the air, "Yea!"

Margo grinned, and scooped Christopher up in her arms, putting a small towel folded up on his chest.

"What's this for?" Christopher asked, fingering the towel.

"That's for your pillow, to keep it dry, 'cause of your wet hair," Margo said.

"OK Mommy," Christopher said, as he lazily kicked his legs, his feet flopping about loosely.

Christopher wore both pyjama-tops and -bottoms to bed, even in the current summer warmth, because the house was air conditioned.

Christopher's Bedroom

Margo carried him back to his room, warmly smiling at him as she laid him in bed, then she got the towel under her son's head, and laid the covers over him.

"Story!" Christopher whimpered sleepily.

Marg sighed, "I'm gonna get one now, Chris. Don't worry," she said, going over to the bookcase. Margo got out Christopher's favourite picture-book, "Richard Scarry's Cars & Trucks and Things That Go," then she sat down on the small chair, and started to read.

Christopher giggled at some of the more nonsensical vehicles on the pages of the story, pointing at one of the objects shown on one of the pages, "Monkeys in a Banana-car?"

Margo smiled, nodding, "Uh-huh, looks like it,"

"That's silly!" Christopher giggled drowsily, "Monkey's can't drive cars,"

Margo continued the story once Christopher quietened-down.

Christopher frowned as the story ended, "I'm tired!" he whined sleepily, yawning and rubbing his eyes with the back of his fists.

Margo smiled warmly at Christopher, "Time to go to dreamland then," she said, putting the book back in the bookcase, then she came back over to his bed.

Christopher reached up toward his mother, as she came back to his bed, "Hug and kiss good night!?"

"Uh-huh," Margo nodded, and gave Christopher a hug and kiss, as requested, while she leaned over him, then she snugly tucked him in.

Christopher hugged and kissed Margo in return, "I love you, mommy,"

Margo sat on the edge of his bed, while she stroked Christopher's hair tenderly, "I love you too, Chrisy," she said, handing her son his stuffed-toy turtle, "Here's Franklin,"

Christopher grinned, hugging his "Franklin" toy affectionately, "Thanks, Mommy. Daddy coming to say good night? Please?"

Margo nodded, "Uh-huh, I'll get him, and you're welcome,"

Christopher relaxed, laying back in bed, "Thank you, mommy," he said softly.

Margo smiled, as she got up to leave the room, "No problem, Angel,"

Home Office at the back of the 2nd floor of the Henison's home

Margo stuck her head around the door, and asked in mock seriousness, "Garry, can you take a break from cracking into the Pentagon computers for a sec?"

Garry sighed, playing along with the joke, "But I'm almost in!"

Margo sighed, as she turned serious, "Chris wants you to come and say good night to him,"

Garry sighed, the joke over, and got up, "OK, I'll be there in a sec . . . By the way, I made some 'programmer fluid'," he said with a wink, referring to the pot of strong coffee he had made while Margo was bathing their son.

Margo smiled, "Thanks," then she went down to the kitchen to pour herself a small cup.

Christopher's Bedroom

Garry entered his son's darkened room, asking softly, "You still awake?"

Christopher nodded sleepily, "Uh-huh," he mumbled.

Garry sat down on the edge of his son's bed and said, "Sounds like you won't be for long though…"

Christopher sleepily reached for his father, ignoring the comment, "Hugs n' kisses?"

"Sure thing, Sport," Garry gave Christopher a hug and a kiss good night.

Christopher tenderly hugged and kissed his father, "Night-Night, Daddy…"

Garry smiled "Good night! Sleep tight! Don't let the bedbugs bite!" he said softly.

Christopher grinned, replying groggily, "If they do, I'll take a shoe, and beat them 'til they're black-and-blue!"

"Even red and yellow too…?" Garry aid softly.

Christopher smiled up at Garry innocently, "I love you, Daddy," sounded every bit like the sleepy little boy he was.

Garry smiled, and rubbed Christopher's shoulder, "I love you too, Sport. Now it's time to get some sleep. I'll see ya in the morning, OK?"

Christopher sighed, and rolled onto his side, facing the wall.

Garry turned out the light completely, and left the bedroom door ajar.

Christopher was soon softly snoring, sound asleep, with his thumb between his slightly-parted lips.

Christopher needed to be well rested, since had the start senior kindergarten to look-forward to. Tomorrow was going to be a big day for him. He would no longer be among the youngest children at the school he went to anymore. An important distinction to a child Christopher's age.