Timothy woke slowly from a bad dream, the worst he had ever had. It seemed so real, everything was so detailed; the sounds, the textures, colors, even the taste and touch had seemed real. No wonder the dream made him want to hide his head under the blanket until it went away and waking consciousness fully returned. Rather than give in to a childish fear, he kept his eyes closed and tried to remember the dream. What was the point of the dream? Was Janet trying to “change” him?

Timothy opened his eyes fully expecting to see his bedroom, instead he was back in the dream, a diapered baby in a crib. He began to moan, a low pitiful sound, drawn from him unwillingly as despair filled his mind and compassed his being. The moan grew into a wail and filled him with sound, shutting out reality. It went on for an eternity, feeding on itself, drawing him deeper into a wordless void, without form or substance, a nomina without light or hope, consisting of only loss and emptiness. He drifted in the void aimlessly, until he felt the faint pull of something warm and kind. He moved closer to it and it reached out and found him, surrounding him with love. The something comforted him wordlessly and his wounded psyche clung to it, as it tenderly enveloped and protected him. Gradually, he began to return to reality, as his exhausted mind turned from a terror it had no energy to contemplate.

He became aware of motion, a rocking, like a ship at anchor. A slow, gentle, inviting movement was luring him home to safety. He heard his own sobs grow quiet and then cease. He felt soft, warm fabric against his face and a gentle hand stroking his head. He opened his eyes and saw Janet’s concerned face looking down at him with love and compassion shining in her eyes. He saw her lips move and realized she was speaking, murmuring to him, but the sounds had no meanings other than emotions to him. He looked at her, his rescuer, his wife, and smiled shyly at her, fearful she would grow angry and leave him.

Janet continued to hold and comfort him and he began to comprehend her words. “Momma’s here baby, its okay. Everything is fine. Momma will take care of you. Don’t worry, baby. Mamma will protect you. Momma loves her baby. Momma won’t let anything happen to her baby. Its okay, baby. Hush baby, momma’s here.”

Timothy was at peace with reality and himself now. He knew she would protect him and take care of him. After a few more minutes she said, “It’s time for baby’s breakfast.”

Janet got up from the chair, placed him on her right hip with one of his legs in front of her and one behind her. She put her hand on his bottom and held him tightly against her side. Timothy bounced as he rode her hip. Janet opened the door and Timothy looked out at the hall when they emerged. He was surprised to discover the nursery was the guest bedroom next to the master bedroom. They went into the kitchen where Janet put him into a high chair whose table was decorated with teddy bears. He drew circles around the bears with his fingers as she stepped behind the high chair to fasten his feeding bib.

She went to the pantry and returned with a blue rubber-coated feeding spoon and a jar of baby food. Janet pulled a chair close to the high chair and opened the jar, spooned some out and began to feed him. “You’ll like this, it’s oatmeal and applesauce. Mmmmm. Now open wide.”

The oatmeal was perfectly smooth in texture and the applesauce gave it a very pleasant sweet-fruity flavor. He swallowed a big spoonful only to find another had taken its place before he was ready. She spooned it in faster than he could swallow it (he was having trouble exercising conscious control over swallowing), but she kept spooning it in. She scraped the sides of his mouth and chin with the spoon when the layer of oatmeal got too thick and fed him the scrapings too, until the jar was empty and his face was reasonably free of oatmeal.

She got up, went to the pantry again and brought back a jar of Gerber fruit juice and a small plastic baby bottle. She filled the bottle, screwed the nipple on tight, and gave him the bottle. He put the nipple into his mouth and started sucking, watching her intently. The aroma of sweet apple cider filled his mouth and nose as he sucked on the nipple.

She smiled at him and said, “I guess I should tell you what’s happened to you. I guess you would say, ” She chuckled and continued, “that is, if you could talk,… which you can’t !…, that I happened to you, you see, I’m a witch.”

His eyes grew wide as she continued, “I’m a card-carrying, third degree, Esbat attending, High Priestess of a coven. I cast a spell on you and regressed your body to your personality’s age!”

Timothy’s eyes grew as wide as saucers as she said, “I finally got tired of your infantile behavior. This is my house and I don’t need your help to run it. I have your full power of attorney to do it with too! Remember last year when you went on a bender for three weeks and the water, gas and electric companies turned off the services because you didn’t pay them? I couldn’t pay them because the bank accounts were in your name. Do you remember granting me a full power of attorney so that I could keep the house running? Of course that was only after you took a cab to the liquor store on a Saturday and an off-duty police officer arrested you for public intoxication after you made some remarks to her about how nice her tits looked and how you would like to bed her. You had to write a check for me bail you out. I didn’t have an account so I had to wait until Monday to cash the check at your bank and you had to spend the weekend in the drunk tank. You gave me a full power-of-attorney that same day before you curled up with your liquor bottle on the sofa and returned to la-la land.

I take care this house alone and from now on I’ll take care of you too! You’ve shown that you’re completely irresponsible! I don’t have time to keep up this house and go traipsing around town cleaning up your messes and trying to keep you out of trouble. You don’t need a wife, you need a mommy! When I married you, I agreed to stay with you for better or worse. As far as I’m concerned the worst is over! I’d rather take care of a baby in diapers than a wayward husband. If you can’t behave like an adult and have to be looked after like an infant then it’s up to me to take responsibility for you. If I can’t be your wife, then I’ll be your Mommy!

If you want to act like a child, then fine, act like a child, you can act as childish and infantile as you want, but from now on you’ll do it on my terms.

If you want to sleep curled up around a bottle, that’s fine with me, but it will be a baby bottle, not a liquor bottle. Now you can ogle every woman’ if you want and no one will be embarrassed. If you want to act cute and flirt with my friends go ahead, I don’t mind. Only they won’t be sitting on your lap with you fondling them. Now, you’ll be sitting on their lap and they’ll be playing with you !

You’ll wear clean clothes every day because I’ll dress you. I won’t have to wash underwear you’ve worn for a month, because I’ll change your diapers everytime you wet or dirty them. I won’t be cleaning the bathroom because you’ve gotten drunk and missed the toilet and peed on yourself and the floor. You’ll pee in your diaper and not on my clean floor !

From now on you’ll take a bath every day, because I’ll bathe you, baby! I’ll choose when you’ll get up and when you’ll go to sleep. I’ll decide where you’ll go, what you’ll wear and what you’ll drink and eat. You’ll eat what I put in front of you because I’ll spoon-feed you your meals myself.

You’ll go shopping with me every time whether you want to or not. You’ll wear seat belts in the car, because from now on you’ll ride strapped into a baby seat in the back seat. We won’t cut short a shopping trip because you’re hungry or thirsty or tired or you need to go home to go to the bathroom. You’ll be strapped into a stroller with a diaper bag full of baby food, formula and clean diapers behind you on the stroller. If you want to take a nap while we’re shopping, you’ll nap in the stroller. If you need to pee or poop, you’ll do it in your diaper while sitting in the stroller.

You can’t embarrass me in front of my friends. Babies don’t embarrass anyone, they’re only endearing. You won’t even have to worry about being caught by my friends running around the house with nothing on but your old, dirty, sagging, B.V.D.’s anymore. A baby wearing droopy diapers doesn’t offend anyone, its just charming.

You won’t stink up my house with your cigarettes and cigars. If you want to suck on something, you can suck on your thumb or your pacifier. You won’t get underfoot while I’m working in the kitchen, making the bed, or cleaning the house. You’ll sit in your playpen quietly and play with your toys.

You won’t interrupt my soaps with your comments about the acting or the script. Because you can’t talk, baby!! But the best part is that your womanizing days are over!! The only other women you’ll be spending time alone with will be your babysitters!

In short, baby, you’ll behave yourself. If you don’t, I’ll put you in a playpen for a timeout. If you still act up, I’ll put you in your crib for the night. And if you’re very naughty…..” She paused for a breath of air,… “I’ll put you over my knee, and spank your bottom !!!”

The bottle was out of his mouth and his eyes were wide and his mouth was open in an expression of utter astonishment at her tirade. “Do You Understand Me?”, she demanded.

He closed his mouth and nodded meekly.

“Until you learn how to behave, you’re going to be a baby! My baby! I’m going to be the Momma in this house and you’ll play by my rules! You’re the baby and I’m your Mommy! Is that understood?”

He nodded again.

“Good!”, she said, “Now finish your juice, baby. We’re going for a trip this morning.”

She went to the kitchen sink and moistened a wash cloth. Janet returned and said, “Be still, baby!”, then scrubbed his lips and face.

She removed his bib, and took it in the kitchen. She left him sitting alone with the bottle to finish his juice. When she finished washing dishes, she came over, lifted him out of the high chair and carried him into the family room.

Sitting in the middle of the floor was a brand new playpen. She put him and his bottle into the playpen and turned on the TV She looked at the newspaper program schedule for a moment, turned on the TV and said, “Good! I found the perfect show for you to watch, baby. Barney! He’s exactly the right age level for you! Now be good while mommy goes and changes her clothes.”

She left him alone with the TV and went to the bedroom. She closed the door to the bedroom and chuckled. Her plan was working. She hoped it would, not just because she loved Timothy and wanted to help him, but also because of the personal risk to her.

She believed fervently in the Three-Fold Law; what you do to others shall be returned three fold. She was running an enormous risk, both spiritually and karmically.

She wished though, that she hadn’t projected the feeling of despair so strongly, it almost drove him over the edge. She frowned, she hadn’t planned on Timothy being so sensitive telepathically, he had never been that psychically receptive before. Perhaps it was because he was in an infant body? She had only meant to get him to accept her as his new mother figure, not terrify him. Oh well, what’s done is done. She’d try to be extra sweet and gentle with him in the future. At least she’d been able to read him the riot act convincingly. She had rehearsed that “spontaneous” outburst all day.

He had to accept his role as a baby in order to grow up. She’d give him the opportunity to have a very short but normal babyhood. Maybe then he would develop trust in others and faith in himself. If he had faith in himself then he would seek independence and responsibility again. She was the foil, the foe he would seek to overcome, and in the attempt, he would learn and grow spiritually without needing to understand that he was the source of his problems. She thought it would take a month, perhaps as long as six weeks, before she could let him be five or ten years old again. Then she could explain everything to him, but not now. Now she had to become his mommy; to nurture him, to love him, to care for him and if necessary, to discipline him. He had to learn that there were limits on his behavior!

Janet came back into the family room, picked him up out of the playpen and said, “It’s time to get you dressed.”

She carried him into the nursery and laid him on his back in the crib. She went to the dresser and opened a drawer and took out a white T-shirt. “Look, baby!” she said. “Mommy bought you a nice new T-shirt and it’s exactly your size!”

She held it out for him to see. It had line drawings of a pacifier, a baby bottle . Beneath each picture was a single word caption; Good , Better , and Best. Janet lowered the crib side, grasped his chest under both arms and pulled him up to a sitting position. She put her hand though the shirt sleeve and held his hand in her own while pulling down the shirt over his arm. Then she worked his head through the neck hole and put his arm through the other sleeve.

“Isn’t that better ?”, she said.

Timothy was mortified.

“Oops,” she said, “I forgot to check your diaper.”

She pushed him down on his back and reached with the four fingers of her hand held flat and together and slid them into the front of his diaper. “Well,” she said, “you’re a little wet, but you’ll be okay until we get to Lisa’s house. I’ll change you then.”

“Oh no,” he thought, “she’s taking me to Lisa’s to show her what she’s done to me. I’ll never be able to look Lisa in the face again.”

She went to the closet, opened the door and took a blue plastic bag from the top shelf. She brought it over to the dresser, opened the top drawer and began putting things inside the bag. When she was finished, she closed the drawer and took a stack of diapers and put them in the bag. She put the strap over her shoulder and went to the crib, picked him up and put him on her hip, holding his bottom with her right hand.

She carried him into the kitchen and put the diaper bag on the counter. Still holding him she went to the pantry and took out some baby food. He glanced inside the pantry as she made her selection.

“No,.. no,…. please no !”, he thought desperately as he saw the stock of food in the pantry. There were enough baby food jars on the shelf to feed him for a month. She brought the jar back to the counter and placed it beside the diaper bag. She turned to the refrigerator and took out a capped baby bottle which she put in the bag. Then she opened a kitchen drawer took out a feeding spoon and put it and the jar into the bag. She grasped the bag’s strap, put it on her shoulder, reached over the counter and picked up her purse and keys.

She carried him out to the garage, went to the rear passenger side of “his” Suburban, and opened the door.

“My Suburban !”, he raged mentally, as he saw the baby seat fastened to the rear seat.

She put her purse and keys on top of the Suburban and put the diaper bag on the floor behind the front seat. She put him into the seat, pulling the restraining straps over his shoulders and secured the clip of the safety harness into matching lock of the strap that she drew up between his legs and over his crotch. Then she adjusted the straps until he was held firmly in the seat.

“Oh dear,” she said. “I almost forgot your blankee!”

Leaving his door open, Janet put her purse into the front seat and took the keys with her into the house. She emerged a few minutes latter, carrying the blanket from the crib and locked the garage door behind her. She came back around to the rear door and put the blanket in his hands and said, “Here baby, take your blankee.”

She closed the door, went to the other side of the Suburban and got in the front. She put the keys in the ignition, started the engine, opened the garage door by remote control, and backed out of the driveway.