Published: November 23rd 2020, 8:23:57 pm
"Melinda Merriweather, nanny. Is your husband or boyfriend, wife or girlfriend out of control? Do they act like a big baby who never learned to grow up? Are you feeling out of options and looking for a respite? Contact Melinda Merriweather for all your adult childcare needs and put your partner in their place."
Terry traced the newspaper ad with her finger as she read the words aloud.
"That does sound like my George. Oh but I couldn't. Could I?"
George's crass voice rang out from the bedroom.
"Terry! Terry! Come tie my tie! And get me my socks! Terry!"
She sighed and put down the paper.
"Coming, dear!"
Upstairs, she deftly looped the length of material around her husband's neck while he sat there on the bed pouting. Here was george. Perpetually pouting, his moustache drawn down along with his frown, and his head a halo of hair. He was already balding at 35, but that's to be expected for a middle manager at a furniture store.
"Those Swedes did it to us again, Terry." said the portly man. "Lost another sale. How are we supposed to compete with the prices of assemble-yourself furniture?"
"I don't know honey," she said as she tightened up the knot and move on to grooming his hair. "I'm sure you'll think of something.
"Well, I don't want to think of something, Terry. They don't pay me enough to think. I just want the customers to come. Why won't they come? Why won't they come now?"
"Yes, yes, dear," she said. And then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She had been a beauty when she was 20. She was now nearing 30 and still beautiful, though some of that was faded now with years of early mornings and late nights taking care of her husband's every need. Still beautiful, but she looked tired. She tucked a frazzled blonde lock behind her ear to join the mass of sandy-blonde curls joined in a loose bun on her head. She saw herself standing over her husband in ten years, 20 years. Everything the same, their hair just getting grayer.
"Terry! Terry! Are you daydreaming again? I have to go to work? I wish you would take my needs more seriously, Terry! Did you pack me a lunch?"
"Oh," she shook her head. "Yes, dear, I did. It's waiting for you on the counter."
She accompanied him out the door and shut it behind her, locking it. She sighed. She didn't want to live like this for another fifty years. She didn't want to live like this another day. She went back over to the kitchen table where she's left the newspaper lying. His voice still rang in her head. 'Terry! You left the newspaper here. You left a mess! Terry!' She picked it up and walked toward the trash can. Then he gave the ad another look. She nodded once, as if coming to a decision, and she picked up the receiver.
***
"Melinda Merriweather at your service!" The tall and imposing woman raised her parasol when Terry answered the door. She was dresed in a light blue dress with a matching sun hat secured to her head with a sheer kerchief-style scarf. It certainly wasn't her clothing or size that was imposing. It was her manner. The moment she walked into the house she seemed to know exactly what she was about.
"So if I am to understand you correctly, your husband is in need of a nanny to take him to task for his infantile behavior. To straight him out, if that is at all possible."
She looked around the living room as if searching for any sign of Terry's wayward husband and his childish ways.
"Why yes," said Terry, her eyebrows raised in surprise, "But how did you know?"
"I can see it like a fortune teller reads tea leaves. Look over here. Shoe marks on the ottoman. The man doesn't even bother to wipe his feet when he comes in. And there. It looks like he's been throwing his cigarette butts behind the couch. Disgraceful. And - my goodness, hold on a moment. Where is the laundry, dear?"
"Oh, it's right this way," said Terry, perplexed as to what Ms. Merriweather could be about. "Aha, I knew it! Skid marks and urine stains. The man can barely keep his underwear dry. He's an infant if I ever saw one."
Ms. Merriweather tossed the underwear back into the laundry basket and led the way back to the kitchen.
"Come on, dear, let's sit down and have a cup of tea."
She sat Terry down and went bustling about the kitchen like she owned the place. Terry was too tired to care. In fact, it was a nice change to have someone do something for her instead of whining in her ear for this thing or that.
Soon, they sat across from each other sipping from Terry's blue china cups.
"It's true," said Terry, setting down her cup and folding her arms. "George is exactly like an overgrown infant, and I'm tired of it.
"You should be," said Ms. Merriweather. "How long have you two been together?"
"It's been nearly 10 years now. I married him when I was 18, and he was 23. I was too naive to spot the signs. I should have known when he threw a tantrum on our first date."
"Well 10 years is much too long to put up with his behavior. It should have been nipped in the bud. But the good news is, it's never too late to start."
"And just what do you propose to do about it," asked Terry. She gave Ms. Merriweather a sharp look challenging her to come up with something she hadn't already thought of.
"I propose to treat him the way he's been acting. And since he's been acting like an infant, that's exactly how he should be treated. And I'm going to need your help."
Terry listened eagerly to the nanny's plan, and smiled to herself. This just might work.
"Might work? Of course it will work! If I've seen it once, I've seen it a million times. Men like George will fall in line as long as you stand firm and take charge. Trust me, dear. This will not only work, but you'll have a whole new life once we are finished with him."
***
Late that afternoon George came back from work.
"Terry! Terry! Where are you?"
He looked around and grumbled. No Terry to take his coat. He so he tossed it on the floor of the entryway, along with his hat.
"Terry! Where is that lazy woman?"
Suddenly a voice rang out from the stairway directly to his left causing him to jump half a foot.
"Don't you take another step, young man!"
"Wha?" He turned to see the stern face of Ms. Merriweather staring down at him from the stairwell. "Who are you? What are you doing in my home?"
Ms. Merriweather slid down the banister and landed lightly on her feet in front of him.
"Ms. Merriweather, nanny. I'm here to straighten out what needs straightening, and mend what needs mending. And you need to wipe your feed on the doormat and put away your hat and coat."
He looked at her with is mouth open and his eyebrow raised.
"Right now! Chop chop!" she clapped her hands twice and he jumped as if startled and quickly did as she instructed.
"Much better. Now, you will make a nice cup of tea for your wife, who is relaxing in the bath, and bring it up to her.
"Tea in the bath? But that's absurd. Besides, I've never made tea in my-"
"Now, George. You warm that water your I'll warm your bottom!"
The look she gave him told him she meant it, and he quickly scooted off to make his wife some tea.
"Thank you, George," said his wife, lifting a cucumber off of her eye to look at him as he handed her the cup.
He frowned back at her.
"What do we say, Georgie?" asked Ms. Merriweather.
George quickly recited what they had practiced downstairs.
"You're very welcome, dear."
"See that? What a polite boy." Ms. Merriweather patted George on the head. "I think we'll have to talk about what you will call her from now on, but that can wait. First I think it's time we get you dressed more appropriately."
"Yes, ma'am," said George, and he was led out of the room.
Terry lay back in the bath and smiled, sipping her tea. She could get used to this.
***
"And just where do you think you're going, Georgie?" asked Ms. Merriweather.
"To my room, of course. To change out of my work clothes?"
"Oh no dear, that's not your room anymore. Terry and I have prepared a new room for you. Your room is this way."
Despite the ridiculousness of her assertion he followed her. Her certainty and bearing left no doubt that she was indeed correct. However, once he saw what they had in store for him he immediately dug in his heels.
"Oh, no. If this is some sort of joke, I'm not having it. I told Terry no children, and you won't catch me in a nursery or anything like it."
"Oh, but I think I will," said Melinda Merriweather, and with a wave of her hand the hallway carpet jerked back beneath his feet sending him stumbling forward right into the nursery.
Ms. Merriweather began to sing.
"Just a tush tucked in padding helps the baby learn his place, the baby learn his place, the baby learn his place. Just a tush tucked in padding helps the baby learn his place, and in padding he will stay!"
As she sang his tie came untied, his shirt unbuttoned itself, and his pants pulled themselves down. The portly man turned this way and that in the confusion, grabbing at his clothing and trying to wrestle it back onto his body. Stumbling back as his pants constrained his ankles, he fell right back on the changing table, ass in the air, and all of his clothing flew off leaving him naked. Leather restraints latched onto his arms and chest, holding him fast.
"Hey! Hey! Get me out of this! What's going on here?"
Ms. Merriweather continued to sing and dance nimbly around the room as she tossed several layers of cloth, a bottle of baby powder, pins and a pair of plastic pants toward the table, and they did a dance of their own. Several layers of cloth enfolded themselves over his crotch, and the pins fastened them together leaving poor red-faced George in a very thick diaper. Next the plastic pants slid themselves up and the cloth tucked itself in tightly. For the grand Finale, Ms. Merriweather tossed a dummy his way and it flew right into his mouth, silencing his complaints and a blue baby bonnet sailed through the air to tie itself around his head completing the look of a ridiculous overgrown infant.
"That's much better," she said, dusting her hands. "Now let's go show your wife how much better you look like this, Georgie. I know she'll approve."
George blubbered and whined into his pacifier as he was led waddling out the door toward his old bedroom where Terry was waiting. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into.