    The Potty Chair
    By: BabyD

    Part 1 Easy-Up on Me, Please Mom

    	My mom was a single mother and would never let you or I forget
    it. She hated my father and lived by her promise to him that I would be
    the perfect gentleman and an ideal husband for a future wife. My Mom
    always had the oddest ways of punishing me and it was usually for the
    littlest of problems. She believed that the best way to punish and have
    it stick was humiliation. She believed that strict infantile punishment
    was the best way to get her message across. The worst of these
    punishments (so far...) was when I was 12 right before my 13th
    birthday.
    	I had just left the house to play baseball with my school friends
    with strict orders from mom to be home before dark and to keep clean as
    I had just been given a bath (remind you that I am almost a teenager,
    but that's a whole different story). The game was a great one and was
    tied and going into extra innings when the sun just dipped below the
    horizon and I called out that I had to go already being late. Everyone
    was begging me to stay and being the short, skinny kid that I was, I
    was afraid of rejection and stayed. I made the winning run by sliding
    head first off a steal home. It was great until I realized that I had
    just broken two of the rules mom had given me. I was covered in dirt,
    late, and dead in my tracks. I bolted the few blocks home and stopped
    after I entered the vestibule. I stood there dumfounded at the sight of
    my mom standing in front of me with the "two strike bag". I knew what
    it contained, so without saying a word, I walked to my bedroom with mom
    right behind me. When I entered I stripped down to my birthday suit and
    got it the squatting position. With that mom started to drill me with
    how tired she was with my toddler-like behavior and how I would regret
    having one strike left for the whole month until the real punishment
    started.
    	She then proceeded to wipe me down with a few baby wipes and then
    she told me to stand up. She had me lie down on the changing pad she
    had laid out. She powdered and oiled me and then raised my legs and
    slid the Pampers Easy-Ups down my legs (You see the two-strike bag is
    the "toddler level" of punishment for my mom and it lasts for two weeks
    at the most unless my behavior started it over). She then led me down
    stairs and into the sitting room and pulled me over her lap. She slid
    down the training pants and gave me a couple hard smacks with her heavy
    hand. Then she put a pacifier into my mouth, pinned it to my shirt, and
    made me stand with my nose in the corner and only an Easy-up around my
    ankles. After two hours my mom led me from the corner to the bathroom
    where my newly placed potty chair was. She had me sit there for a half
    an hour until my tink-tinks and poopie-woopies were all out of her
    little "4 year old". After that we went to the kitchen where she had my
    booster seat ready. I sat down, she buckled me in and she proceeded to
    put on my bucket bib and give me some food from Gerber Graduates and
    Pedi-Sure in a sippy-cup(my mom actually only let me drink Pedi-Sure
    even if I wasn't being punished). The rest of the first week were fine
    and I had no discipline or potty problems until 8 days after the
    starting day.
    	I had just eaten my lunch of peanut butter sandwiches and baby
    apple sauce when mom told me to go watch barney in the other room. She
    came in and turned it to the "right' channel and told me to leave the
    clicker be. I got so bored that I forgot about not having restrictions
    on TV shows that I picked up the remote and changed to some WWF and
    laid back to enjoy the women's championship. I forgot to let you in on
    the other part of my lunch which was some Mountain Dew. This was the
    first kid privilege that I had gotten. The fight was a good one and I
    was totally absorbed into it. After 15 minutes mom reentered the room
    to me cheering for Teri to rip Jackie's F@#&ING head off in a wet Easy-
    Up. I never noticed her there until she came back with the "3rd strike
    baby suitcase". I knew I was in for it.

    To Be Continued very soon